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Chapter Eleven
Duncan
It’s been two whole days since our heated debacle. I’ve been staying as far away as I can from her. My mind is fucked, twisted even. I may not be near her, but I have my eyes all over her, watching her every damned move. I sit back in my chair ,overviewing the monitors and wonder what the hell it is about her that sparks the fire in me alive. Sure, she was hot enough in Australia, and I came to care for her. Here, she’s almost like a completely different person. She isn’t still the same Willow. She’s become guarded, rageful, and full of spirit. I’m not complaining; it just adds to the list of things that make me attracted to her.
I’m not what Kristof wants for her. It’s blatantly obvious. I’m not Romanian, which means that I’d never be deemed as a suitable match for her. I lean back in my chair, tilting my head behind me and think hard on it. All we have is a good bit of sexual tension. I’m sure once we get it out of the air things will calm down. I smirk to myself, happy that I’ve finally figured out what to do. Willow and I just need to get this sexual tension out of the way. It’ll make my job a hell of a lot easier, and her mood will cheer up. She may even stop butting heads with me, which would be a plus.
There’s one thing I’m certain of. Willow will come to me. I won’t have to chase her down.
A few hours pass and I’m tired of being stuck in the surveillance room. Surprisingly enough, she’s stayed within the walls of the townhouse today. I haven’t had to run out the door and chase her down after one of her escape plans. I walk into the dining room and see Willow kneeling down on the floor in front of the cabinet where I know Kristof keeps the liquor. He’s a creature of habit and has kept it in the same spot for as long as I’ve worked for him. I’m sure it was here when she was a child as well.
“What on Earth are you doing?” I ask her, cocking an eyebrow and staring down at her.
She rolls her eyes and huffs, “Looking for alcohol, obviously. He must’ve moved it. I can’t find a drop.”
“Not surprised. Pretty sure he can’t have any with his medications. I think he got rid of all the liquor.” I vaguely remember Kristof asking James to get rid of anything in the house with alcohol in it. He’s in no way shape or form an alcoholic, but does love a glass of brandy. Those medicines must have some pretty awful side effects if he did get rid of it all. I don’t think he would, though. There must be a secret stash somewhere around here.
Willow puts her hands over her face and sighs, breathing heavily for a few moments. When she takes her hands away from her face I can see that her eyes are red and a bit puffy. Has she been crying? More importantly, why has she been crying? “I could really use a drink right now, Duncan.”
“That’s obvious,” I retort, not even realizing how much of a dick I sound like until it’s already out of my mouth. “You could just order me to find you some booze.”
She furrows her brows, and I see a small smile break through for just a moment. I only said it to fuck with her, but seeing that she just got out of her head makes me feel good.
“Fine. Go fulfill your task.” She waves her hand up in dismissal, and I walk around the house, looking for wherever Kristof stashed some. After looking for a good twenty minutes, I head for the last place in the house where I believe he’d have some – his study. I knock on the door quietly and enter when I don’t hear anything. As soon as I’m inside, I see him dozed off in his wheelchair. Instead of disturbing him, I walk around the room, looking in cabinets and on shelves for any type of liquor.
“What’re you up to?” Kristof asks, startling me.
I look over from where I’m crouching, “Willow wanted some liquor, and I can’t find an ounce of it in here. She seems a bit upset, so I’m not going to put up a fight.”
“Good on you. Today is a hard day for her, I imagine,” he murmurs, sparking my interest.
I stand, looking down at the old man in his chair. “What do you mean by that?”
“Today is the anniversary of her mother’s death. I’m sure she’d want a drink, today of all days. I have a bottle of vodka in my desk, everything else was tossed.”
I nod at him, walking towards his desk and open the bottom drawer, yanking out the bottle of vodka he told me about. “Thank you, domn. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”
He laughs, “No. She won’t. Don’t even bother telling her where you got it or how you found it. Willow hates me. I can’t blame her for that.”
“I doubt she hates you. Families are always complicated. In my years, no matter if you live in a trailer or a mansion, I have seen that. Family is complicated. I sincerely doubt that she holds any sort of hatred for you, Kristof. I think she is just hurting and doesn’t know how to process it all.” I don’t know where my words come from. I have no facts and only what I feel in my gut. Luckily, my gut has never really been wrong.
“You may be right,” he says to me.
I shrug, “Yeah. Maybe. I’m going to go deliver the liquid courage to your Princess.” I head towards the door and place my hand on it, turning the knob, and just as I start to step out, Kristof speaks up. “Duncan, thank you for everything you’re doing for her.”
I turn my head back towards him, “It’s my job, think nothing of it.”
I go back into the dining area and don’t see Willow there, so I check a few more rooms before I head upstairs to her bedroom. Sure enough, she’s sitting on the edge of her bed with her knees drawn to her chest. I know she hears me but doesn’t bother to look in my direction.
I shut the door behind me and walk up to her, handing the bottle of vodka over. She runs the palm of her hand across her lips and looks up at me, her expression showing me how grateful she is.
“What can I do?” My question comes out before I even have time to think. I should just leave her be; it’d be the right thing to do. Especially while she’s so emotional, but I can’t. I can’t fucking do that because I know Willow, and every bone inside my body is telling me that the last thing she wants to do is be alone right now.
She unscrews the bottle of vodka and brings it to her lips, taking a few big gulps and then coughs. “Just…stay.” She folds her arms around herself more securely, and every instinct inside of me is telling me that I need to hold her, make her feel safe, wrap her in my arms. But then reality sets in, and I think about all the cameras in her damn room and about how the gossip would run amongst the staff. Is it bad that I don’t give a shit, that I want them to talk? Fuck.
I know where each camera is in her room, strategically placed so that no angle is left out of sight. Part of me wants to cover them up, but in doing that, it’ll expose to her that we have our eyes on her constantly, and I can’t risk that. Fighting every urge for privacy, I walk over to her, sit behind her on the bed, and wrap my arms around her. She stiffens for a moment, neither of us ever having this much physical contact.
I pull her body close to mine, feeling the way her body rises and falls with each breath she takes. Neither of us say a word, instead we sit in the silence and she drinks more of the vodka straight from the bottle until I suddenly feel her hiccupping. I think she’s drank too fast, but when her tears hit my forearm, I realize that she’s been sobbing in my arms.
