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“Seth Borgia wants to marry his daughter?” I questioned slowly, ignoring the fact that Caleb was bleeding all over the fucking place.
“Not his daughter. Please, help me,” Caleb begged.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
This was the last chance I was giving him to spill his guts before I did , in a much different fashion. I shouldn’t technically have been here doing this. There were plenty of men, and some women, far beneath me that were meant to handle shit like this. But I liked doing my own dirty work. It helped me sleep at night.
“This isn’t going to bring back your precious Michelle.” Caleb grinned up at me, his eyes glassy. He knew he wasn’t getting out of here alive, and that was the perfect thing to say to make his demise that much quicker. I ignored Enrique telling me to wait and dug my shears into Caleb’s throat.
I cut the engine and looked up at my house. I’d showered before coming home because I didn’t want Willow to see me covered in blood.
The smell of hot pizza filled the cabin of my car. She liked pizza; I’d seen her eat it a million times. And milkshakes. She loved some caramel peanut butter bullshit. I went out of my way to get her one. I could give her one night of normalcy, just one. One last time.
Enrique burned Caleb’s body and promised to email me everything I needed by in the morning. Jax checked in, saying Abigail was just as much of a mess as when he’d first taken her. That translated into letting me know he was enjoying himself.
Sighing, I grabbed the pizza and shake and climbed out of the car. If circumstances were different, I’d be walking into the door to a willing woman, not a kidnapped one.
Keying in the door code, I walked into the house. Willow’s head popped up from over the couch. Her hair was down, and she wasn’t wearing anything but a sleep shirt that said No Pants Are The Best Pants.
I don’t think I’d ever seen anyone as sexy as she was without any effort. The movie Psycho was playing on the flat screen, and I couldn’t help but raise my brows at her.
Willow glanced at the television and then back at me, with a sly smile on her face. It melted away and was replaced by a look of confusion as she took in the pizza box and shake in my hands.
“You got pizza?” She cocked her head and looked at me.
” I know how much you like it. I also know you hate cake.” I turned and kicked the door shut with my shoe. When I looked back at her, she was staring at me as if I’d grown two heads.
“You’re a really shitty kidnapper. All you give me is cock and food.”
I grinned, allowing myself to laugh at her serious expression.
“We need to eat before it gets cold.” I walked away from Willow, purposely ignoring the expression on her face.
Sometimes, I wondered what she thought of me. She’d never asked me why I took my father’s heart, or what I did when I left the house. I felt guilty about a lot of things in my life, but killing my dad wasn’t one of them. The irony wasn’t lost on me, that the man whose heart I kept in the freezer would soon be me if I stayed on the track I was on.
Which was why a good man would have let Willow go; he wouldn’t have taken her in the first place. I couldn’t be that man. I wanted her, even if it meant trapping her in Hell right beside me. It was an executive decision. At thirty-three, I’d made plenty of those.
I knew she wasn’t Michelle; no one was. My fiancée had been the light of my life. Losing her catapulted me even further down a path of darkness. I didn’t want another copy of her.
Willow was perfect in every way imaginable. She had the heart of a lion and the beauty of a goddess. Smart and full of life, even her smart-ass mouth had grown on me. Though, I preferred when it was wrapped around my cock.
I sat the pizza and plates on the glass dining table. Willow followed behind me, suddenly quiet as a mouse. I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. It would be so easy to force some of the answers to what I wanted to know out of her.
She claimed I didn’t act like a kidnapper. Well, she didn’t exactly act like a kidnapped girl was supposed to. Fuck, she didn’t act like anyone her age did.
“Pierce?” Her small hand touched my back, concern evident in her voice. I could smell the lavender body wash she used on her skin, the peach shampoo in her hair. When her hand went from my back to my arm, something in me snapped.
