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Willow has re-emerged from the kitchen, but instead of slipping back upstairs like she probably planned to, she’s gotten cornered at the bottom of the steps by one of Ethan’s men. He’s boxing her in against the railing that runs up the steps, and as he leans down to murmur something in her ear, one of his hands lands on her waist, sliding down over her hip and then groping her ass.
Vic and I tense immediately, but it’s Malice who reacts first, swift and deadly as always.
He’s across the room in a second, and he grabs the guy, ripping him away from Willow and slamming him violently onto the floor. It doesn’t matter that this guy is bigger than him, Malice is pissed off as fuck, and that gives him extra momentum. He flips from zero to one hundred in an instant, brutal and fast, fury burning in his dark eyes.
The man hits the cement floor with a dull thud, and Ethan and the rest of his men react instantly, drawing their weapons and pointing them at Malice.
Fuck.
I yank my gun out of the waistband of my pants, and beside me, Vic does the same.
32
WILLOW
My stomach seemsto tie itself into a hundred knots as I watch the gang and the brothers face off. The entire thing happened so fast, weapons being drawn in the space between one heartbeat and the next, and now both sides are pointing guns at each other.
Malice still has the gang member who touched me on the floor, one arm pinned behind his back and a knee pressed down between his shoulder blades.
“What the fuck?” the guy splutters. “You said she was no one.”
Malice twists his arm harder, digging his knee down into his back with more force. I can’t see the man’s face, but I’m sure the torquing motion has to hurt like hell. Anger is practically radiating off Malice in waves, his face twisted into a mask of rage and retribution.
“Anything under this roof is ours,” he growls out. “And you don’t get to fucking touch what’s mine.”
A tense silence follows his words, and I grip the railing at the base of the stairs so hard my knuckles ache. The truth and conviction in his words are undeniable, the fury unmistakable.
The gang leader, a man I’ve heard the guys call Ethan Donovan, steps forward. Vic swings his gun around immediately, aiming it at Ethan’s head, but no one shoots. Both sides are locked in a standoff, waiting for someone else to either back down… or make the wrong move.
“Get the fuck off him,” Ethan says to Malice, his voice smooth but angry. “Before this shit breaks bad.”
“Where’s your warning for this motherfucker?” Malice snaps, glaring down at the man beneath him. “Because I always thought when you were on someone else’s fucking turf, you showed them and their shit a little bit of goddamned respect.”
Ethan’s jaw tightens, and the tension cranks up a notch. I can feel a cold sweat chilling on the back of my neck, my heart crashing wildly against my sternum. Malice doesn’t look like he cares one way or another about all the guns aimed at him, and the guy on the floor makes little pained sounds, breathing hard.
“Alright, Mal.” Ransom steps forward slowly, lowering his gun in a deliberate movement so that the Donovan gang members can see him doing it. “Get off him. That’s enough.”
The two brothers glance at each other, and they share one of those looks that I still don’t quite understand, the ones where they seem to communicate telepathically. But whatever unspoken understanding passes between them, it works. Malice jerks away from the guy on the floor, letting him go so he can get to his feet.
Some of the dangerous tension in the air evaporates, and it becomes a little easier to breathe.
“See? We’re good,” Ransom says, turning to Ethan with his hands held out in front of him. “Malice let your guy go. This doesn’t have to go any further.”
“It should never have happened in the first fucking place,” Ethan bites out.
Ransom nods. “No, it shouldn’t have. But your guy did decide to get handsy with someone in our home. You know we can’t let that shit stand. You’d have done the same in Malice’s place.”
However mad Ethan might be, he doesn’t seem able to deny that. Things were going smoothly until that guy touched me, and I shiver with disgust, remembering the hungry look on his face as he cornered me by the stairs.
“Fine,” Ethan snaps, his tone cool. “But you blew your chance to work with us. There’s no fucking trust here anymore.”
The look that passes over Ransom’s face is one of resignation but not surprise. “Yeah, alright. Then I guess this meeting is over. We’re done here.”
The threat of violence still hangs in the air like a spark ready to ignite, and Ransom ushers Ethan and the rest of his crew to the door, keeping himself between them and Malice until they walk past.
Vic and Malice fall in behind them, watching like hawks as they leave.
I stay in the living room, frozen in place, still trying to get my equilibrium back after what just happened. One minute, I was being felt up by some skeezy gang member, and the next…
