Page 17

Jack

I shot across the road and up the driveway. As I grew closer to the front door, Cain’s face at the window changed from smug to pissed as he realised we’d seen his hostage, bolting from the window.

By the time I reached the door, he flung it open. If he could breathe fire, I’m sure he would have. Where this behaviour might have scared Willow, it disgusted me.

“Out of my way.”

I took the single step, still outside the house but close enough that I could feel his hot breath on my neck. I was taller and probably had more muscle than he had in his little finger. The thought made my chest swell with pride and cockiness.

“Get out of my house, Lambert,” he seethed.

“I’m not in your house. Yet . But if you don’t move to the side in the next ten seconds, I’ll make you part of the fucking furniture, do you understand?”

Our faces were so close that I could only see the green of his eyes, my spit clear on his skin as I made my threat.

“Get. Out. Of. My. House,” Cain whispered-shouted. We were in a stand-off.

Through the silence between us, sobs seeped through the ceiling above us, quiet at first, getting louder with heartache and desperation.

Willow .

Cain noticed the moment it clicked in my mind and flung his head back ready to headbutt me, but before he could make contact, I took my chance and shoved him out the front door, where he stumbled and fell onto the driveway.

“I swear to fucking God, if you’ve hurt a fucking hair on her head— ”

“ What ? What are you going to do?”

That smug grin was back on his face, I growled and considered throwing a punch to wipe it off, until I heard Willow’s cries again and Mike shouting at me to leave him.

Leaving him on the driveway, I launched up the stairs and made it to the landing. With all doors in close proximity to one another, it wasn’t hard to figure which one Willow was behind, but it was the preventative measures to keep Willow in that surprised me.

Down the left-side of the door frame were three additional locks.

At the top and bottom, there were two bolts drilled into the wood panel, and in the centre a key-lock.

He’d been keeping her in here like a prisoner.

The night of the gala, of the rejected proposal, wasn’t the first instance of controlling behaviour.

Quickly pushing the slide locks to the side, I instructed Willow to move away from the door, before stepping as far back on the landing as I could and hurling myself at the door, once, twice. At the third hit, the door exploded from its lock, splintering as I burst into the bedroom.

Looking around, I quickly found the dark of Willow’s head beyond a broken double bed, under the window.

Pushing what remained of the door, I made careful steps around the bed, bending down.

Her typically tall body was now curled in on itself, her shoulders heaving with every sob, breaths shuddering.

Holding a hand out, I whispered her name.

I couldn’t blame her hesitance. When one man had hurt her so badly, what was to say another wouldn’t?

“Willow. I want to help,” I whispered, calm despite the building rage.

Eventually, she turned. Her long hair covered her face, so all I could see was her bottom lip quivering.

I moved to push her hair behind her shoulder, and she looked up at me through the slits of swollen eyes, tears pooling in her eyes quickly as I looked her over.

I fought to keep my reaction hidden, so any anger couldn’t be misconstrued as aimed at her.

She wore a baggy T-shirt, her long bare legs tucked beneath it as she hugged them. Bruises peaked out, marbling the skin on her shins.

Around her neck lay dark mottled bruises in the shape of fingers.

Her top lip was busted, bruises and swelling covered her face from her right cheekbone on the same side as the fused eye socket and nose.

Dried blood muddied her face. It was a stark, horrific contrast to the Willow I’d seen Friday night.

She clenched her better eye shut as a deluge of tears fell down her cheeks. I reached up and caressed her hair, trying to reassure her.

“Cry, sweetheart. Cry as much as you need to. You’re safe now,” I whispered again.

Eventually the tears and sobs subsided, and I held my hand out to her once again. She looked at it in confusion, taking it with the hand furthest from me, so I could haul her to her feet.

“What did he do to you?” I muttered to myself, a little too loudly though, causing Willow to wince.

I brushed my palms down her arms until I reached her hands, when suddenly she yanked her left hand out of my gentle grip.

She caught a sliver of silver on her finger and quickly spiralled into a panic .

Her breathing quickened as she held her left arm out, shaking and unable to tear her eyes from the ring on her splayed-out fingers.

From raising a nervous daughter, I knew telling anyone in the midst of a panic attack to calm down was like adding fuel to the flames. I took her face in my hands and brought her gaze to mine, our faces so close our breaths blended.

“Breathe with me Willow, then we can get you out of here.”

She nodded with wide eyes as she strained for air. Outside, police sirens blared, and her eyes frantically looked towards the window. I tugged her face to focus on mine and breathed with her.

When she finally stabilised, calming herself and me in turn, I brushed her arms with the tips of my fingers.

“Can I look?”

I gently held her left wrist, giving her the option to refuse.

She hesitantly nodded and I brought her hand up to my eye line.

Her ring finger was bruised, swollen and had a slight blue tinge to it, like the blood circulation was limited.

The ring itself was stuck just beyond the second knuckle, the skin raw and weeping. Everything clicked into place.

Willow had rejected him, and he’d forced her decision. He’d forced the ring until it fused. He couldn’t even buy a ring that fit. Willow sniffed as I explored her finger, finally speaking with a croaky voice.

“I said no. That’s all.”

Misunderstanding her, I cocked my head, searching her face wondering if he’d hurt her another way.

“Willow, did he—”

“No, no. He just… did this. Using sex was never his forte.” She huffed humourlessly, but when I didn’t return it and offered a stern look, she stopped.

Placing one arm around her shoulder, I pulled her into me and caressed her back with the other hand.

“I’m so sorry he’s hurt you, Willow. I’m so, so sorry. You deserve so much better than this.”

We stood, arms wrapped around each other, swaying slightly. I stroked her hair and soothed her as she cried into my chest.

I wasn’t sure how long we stood like that. We startled and broke apart at a soft tap at the door.

I turned to the door, cautiously keeping Willow behind me in case it was an unwelcome intruder. Two police officers – a young female and middle-aged male – peered round the edge of the damaged door, offering a delicate smile.

“I’m looking for Willow?”

Willow peered around my side and cleared her throat .

“Hi, Willow. My name is PC Bina Kumar,” the female advised, before gesturing to her colleague. “This is PC Graham Vince. We’re here to talk to you about what’s happened to you today.” She spoke sweetly, chipping away at my caution. PC Vince glanced at me warily.

“We can do this alone if you’d like, Willow.”

Understanding, I stepped aside until a grip on my suit jacket stopped me.

“Please stay, Jack,” she begged, causing my heart to crack as her doe eyes watered and bore into my soul.

“We can make this as comfortable for you as you need, Willow. Who is this man to you?” Vince reassured her.

“This is Jack. Lambert. He’s my boss. My friend. And I think if it wasn’t for him, I’d probably be dead. So, if it’s okay with you, I’d like him to stay.”

Her confession surprised me. I nodded my approval and Willow’s right hand intertwined with my left. It was a small touch that I’d spent the past six years yearning for. I was ready to give her whatever she needed.

As the two officers scribbled on their notepads, Willow’s hand never left mine as she provided a relationship timeline, listing endless traumas. She stared into the distance as she spoke.

The more she relayed, the less her reaction to his proposal no longer seemed extreme, more of a lightbulb moment.

Listening to everything Cain inflicted upon her, my jaw ticked, and my hand clenched hers tighter as she described slaps, punches, and how he’d forced the ring on her finger.

Taking my romantic feelings out of the equation, I couldn’t fathom how anyone could harm another being like this.

My feelings back into the equation, I wish I’d done more than push him to the ground.

I knew better than to ask why she’d stayed, and I watched her heart break as she tried to explain it hadn’t always been like this, it hadn’t been a click-of-the-finger change. She had loved him, she’d given everything to this relationship, and destroyed her with it.

“Thank you for sharing this with us, Willow,” PC Kumar concluded. “The next step is for us to establish what you want to do. What Cain has done to you, especially this weekend, is absolutely a crime and you would be within your rights to press charges.”

Willow blew out air like she’d been holding onto it for years, like the confirmation that this was a crime was exactly what she needed to hear.

She struggled to find the words as her eyes darted around the floor, before she closed them, took a long inhale through her nose .

“I-I want to press charges,” she decided.

“I feel guilty for choosing that route, like I owe him another chance, but I don’t think it works like that.

” The officers nodded in understanding. “I can’t stay here and hope it’ll get better.

If this isn’t a sign that it’ll just get worse then I don’t know what is.

” She looked down at her blue-tinged finger, tears silently falling and darkened the skin around the knuckle.

“I think I’ve always hoped he cared about me, even if he didn’t love me.

But I’m not so sure now.” She looked up at the window and frowned.

“I’m not sure where I’ll go, but I guess anywhere is better. ”

“Well, we can certainly arrange to take you to a refuge centre until you’re set up—”

Blood rushed to my ears at the thought of Willow in a refuge. Building herself back up in an unfamiliar setting. Around people she didn’t know as she struggled to forge a new life.

Before I knew what I was saying, I interrupted them.

“You’ll stay with me.” She looked at me with surprise, and the officers shared a similar glance with one another.

“Jack,” she breathed, frowning. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. You can stay as long as you need. I have plenty of space now Frannie is away from home—” I glanced at the other two.

“That’s my daughter. She attends university.

” They nodded in understanding and scribbled in their notepads.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t have offered it if I didn’t mean it.

If it’ll help you get back on your feet, you can stay until you’re ready. No pressures or caveats.”

Willow searched my face looking for a lie, one I knew she’d never find because this was the most open I’d been since arriving. Finally, she accepted my offer for what it was, genuine, and a small smile cracked through.

“Thank you,” she whispered before turning back to the police officers.