Page 12 of Brutal Knight

And now I’m going to marry her? How the fuck is this supposed to work?

I don’t have a history with Willow the way Aiden did with Rose. It’s not a simple matter of rekindling a spark that never died. This is new territory, and by the way Willow is fighting, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want to be here.

But it doesn’t matter. I have to remember that.

I’ll do anything for my family, for the O’Reilly Syndicate. Even give my life. So marrying Willow is simple. I can and absolutely will marry her. It’s not a question. I never planned to marry anyway, so it’s not like I’m losing some unrealized dream of the perfect wife.

I never really had plans for the future anyway. This is just the expected outcome. I was always going to do something to show my family what I was worth. I have to show them I’ve earned my place. Marrying Willow is the simplest way to do that, even if it won’t be the easiest. I know I have one hell of a time ahead of me.

“Keep an eye out,” Lachlan says. When he speaks, I realize Willow is quiet. She wore herself out.

I nod. “I will.”

Lachlan beckons for Finn. “We’ll take care of him.”

Him. Victor. I watch Lachlan throw the sheets over Victor’s body, twist the ends and start to carry him up. I wonder where they’re going to dispose of him, and I think nothing would be fitting but to burn him and leave no trace he was ever alive.

He’s a monster. The men that do the things he was going to do are monsters, weak and full of nothing but anger and spite. The O’Reilly family raises their sons right. We know better than to hurt women. Siobhan hammered that home any chance she got.

She was like a mother to me, after I lost my own. She taught me to give second chances.

I know she’d want me to do that now. I know she’d want me to keep trying with Willow, despite everything. But it’s hard. It’s hard to do when all I can think about is how Willow betrayed us for Dmitri.

I know it’s not that simple. I know he held so much sway over her. But some part of me is having trouble reconciling that fact with the way she screwed us over.

Willow isn’t struggling anymore. Her legs seem to be weak. She’s leaning forward, against the wall. I pull her against me as I guide her up the stairs. Maybe the fight has gone out of her now, but I can’t count on things staying that way.

It’s not until I get into the car that I realize she’s fucking high.

Her head lolls against the window, and I can tell she can barely keep herself upright. It makes my gut twist. I hate it.

Back at Battle Hill Prep, I had a good friend, Daniel. We were young when he died of an overdose. One day he was there, laughing at lunch, and the next, he was gone. His mother found him in his room. He should have been studying with me.

I was sad at first. I wondered if I should have noticed, if I should have made him come home with me that day. I beat myself up for days.

But at the funeral, all I saw was the way his mother was broken. The way his little sister was empty. And right then, all I felt was anger.

I’m angry now. It pisses me off to see Willow with her eyes rolled back, unfocused.

It’s not even anger at her. Maybe it’s anger at Daniel, or maybe it’s just anger at whatever fucking drugs she took, or whatever Victor forced into her system. Anger at addiction. At whatever drives people to something that can ruin their life, end it so easily.

I don’t fucking know, and I don’t care to find out right now.

I pull up to my house and get her out of the car. She doesn’t struggle when I handle her anymore, but I don’t know if it’s the drugs or just that she’s given up. Some part of me hopes she can recognize that I won’t hurt her, but I know the kind of men she’s used to.

Willow is from Dmitri’s world, where violence was common. I know he hurt her. I know she probably doesn’t expect much more from any other men in her life.

But I’m not that fucking monster.

I take Willow upstairs. She doesn’t fight me, her almost imperceptible weight resting completely on me. I barely notice it. She stumbles a little as we go, and I find myself with my hands on her waist, almost picking her up entirely. I want to just get her off her feet, but I don’t want to risk her panicking and falling out of my arms and over the stairs. I know she’s still high and afraid.

There’s a guest room at the end of the hallway. I take Willow inside, then lead her to the shower in the attached bathroom. I can feel her stiffen a little when we enter the bathroom.

It makes my gut twist when I think about what she must imagine I’m going to do.

I’m sure Dmitri wasn’t kind. I know Victor probably knocked her out when he took her. I’m sure Willow has faced every kind of violence from a man, every kind of threat to her life and safety. I don’t even know how I’d begin to try to prove that I’m different.

I don’t know if it would do any good to talk to her. She probably wouldn’t believe me anyway. As much as I’ve tried to help her and keep her safe, I know she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

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