by Shayla Black
Was the other ladies’ room at the North Pole?
Keegan headed away from the party. He wasn’t here to hang out with people he hadn’t seen since graduation. The guys were cool, but he was here for Willow. What was taking so long?
He paused, straining to listen to for anything that wasn’t music.
A door creaked open and two female voices whispered.
Willow?
He kept going to the next hall leading off the main one. Sure enough, Willow stood talking to a blonde woman. It was the stranger who glanced up and saw him. She looked back at Willow, then gave her a tight hug.
Was something wrong?
Keegan slowed, not wanting to intrude.
“See you later, okay?” the blonde woman said as she let go of Willow.
“Yeah, sure.” Willow turned and caught sight of Keegan.
The stranger smiled at him, then headed past him, presumably back to the party.
The closer he got, the more obvious it was that something was wrong. Willow’s makeup was smudged and her eyes were red. Then there was the little sniffle and clenched tissue in her hand.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He reached for her, sliding his hands down her arms to her elbows.
“I don’t feel great.” She stared at his chin rather than looking at him. “I think I just want to go home.”
That was a blatant lie.
Keegan had heard Willow spin some pretty crazy yarns and she somehow managed to make people believe them. She wasn’t even trying to convince him.
“Will, whatever is going on, you can tell me.” He tugged on her, but she remained where she was.
Her eyes finally met his. “I really just want to go home, Keegan. Today’s been a roller coaster and I just don’t have it in me to socialize tonight, okay?”
That was the truth.
What were the lows?
He was fairly certain they’d had a damn good time this morning with breakfast then a little holiday shopping. She’d been all smiles.
So what had happened when they were apart?
He could push her. If she was resolute on not telling him, she’d fight with him over it and then they’d have problems where before they hadn’t. He didn’t want to spend their Christmas arguing.
Or he could do what she wanted, give her the space she clearly needed, and hopefully she’d come to him in the end and tell him what was wrong.
“Okay.” He let go of her, turned, and offered her his arm. It was maybe a little corny, but right now they needed something lighter. “Your carriage awaits.”
She blinked at him a few times, as though she thought he’d push the issue or say something else. He just smiled at her and eventually she slid her arm into his.
Willow didn’t say much of anything during the walk or drive back to her place. Keegan kept trying to think of something to say to either lighten the mood or sway her into talking to him, but he was out of ideas. If the vibe was different, he might have mentioned talking to her uncle or the male posturing of her coworkers, but he didn’t think either would go over well right now.
“Don’t get out.” She put her hand on his as they pulled up to her house. “I just need to decompress, okay?”
“Okay.” He made himself smile, then because he couldn’t help himself, he said, “I hope someday you can talk to me about whatever’s bothering you.”
Willow’s eyes were sad. Why were they sad? What the hell had happened?
Instead of asking, he reached over and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her over for a hug. She squeezed him back tight enough he almost asked her one more time what the hell was bothering her. But he didn’t. Because he meant what he’d said. Someday he hoped she came to him with these things, but until he’d won her trust, she was entitled to deal with stuff how she wanted. And right now that didn’t include him, even if it chafed.
She kissed his cheek. “Good night.”
“Night.” He sat there and watched her go inside her little house and the lights flip on.
There was nothing left but to either go hang out at his parents’ house or head back to the B and B. He opted for the B and B. Maybe he needed to decompress as well and didn’t know it?
Why couldn’t they do that together?
Growing up, Willow had told him everything. Sometimes too much. But that was all part of her charm. She’d never hesitated telling him anything. Until now.
Was that true?
He stopped at a stop sign and frowned up at the dark sky with its twinkling stars.
Was this the first time Willow had refused to talk her problems out with him? Was it because their relationship was shifting? Did he need to stick around, prove to her he was here for all of life’s bumps? Could it be he was failing some kind of test he didn’t know he was taking?
He cranked the wheel and turned. A couple left turns brought him to Willow’s house from the same direction he’d come from before. As he turned on her street, he saw a car’s lights flip off.
A car that was parked in Willow’s driveway.
Keegan slowed and watched a man in a worn Carhartt coat walk up to Willow’s front door. Keegan stopped the car several houses down.
Was this man the reason she wasn’t talking to him? Were they something to each other?
Keegan hadn’t asked if she’d been seeing anyone before he came home because he didn’t want to know. He’d just assumed with the way things had progressed that she wasn’t with anyone else. Was it possible this man was someone to her? Someone she’d cared about?
His father’s words whispered through his mind, sowing seeds of doubt that churned Keegan’s stomach.
Had he been wrong about Willow?
Everything Willow wanted was about to be taken away from her. She couldn’t control how people reacted to pictures from her past taken of her against her will. The truth was that whatever feelings or thoughts those bits of her history brought up, that stuff was already there. Just under the surface.
If Keegan was repulsed by her history, better to have it out now instead of later.
And eventually there’d be another Jace, someone who wanted to use her past against her when it came to her job.
Jace wasn’t the problem here, he was merely the inevitable.
She lifted her phone to her face, ready to have this out and be done with it so she could make plans to wallow in self-pity this Christmas. If her uncle fired her, she wasn’t likely going to hang out with him even if she understood.
The line hadn’t even rung when someone pounded on her door.
Keegan.
She groaned and ended the call.
Of course he knew something was up.
She’d get rid of him, then call Jace.
The front door banged open. Willow jumped back and stared into the enraged face of Jace Robinson.
“Where is it?” he demanded.
Willow’s hand went to her hip, only she wasn’t wearing her uniform. Her sidearm was in the gun safe under her bed.
She straightened and squared her shoulders. It didn’t matter if she was having this conversation over the phone or face to face. He wasn’t going to change her mind. Her integrity was something she wasn’t about to compromise for anyone. She was going to do the right thing.
“I’m not doing your dirty work for you,” she said. “I’m not helping you.”
Jace’s face grew redder and a vein on his brow pulsed.
“You bitch. What are you good for? You slut whore.”
Willow held up her hands. It was taking all her composure to not snap back. “Leave my house now, Jace. Do you want me to call my cop friends?”
“They won’t be your friends when I’m done with you.” Jace took a menacing step toward her.
Crap.
She recalled Jace’s temper from high school. If the current rumors were true, he was much worse now. Word was, it was a big reason why his ex-wife had divorced him.
Jace’s arm shot out. She ducked, but it threw her
off-balance. She staggered back, sitting down on the arm of the sofa.
“I’m going to teach you a lesson,” he roared.
Keegan frowned at the open door.
Had Willow really just let that guy in and left her door open?
This didn’t seem right. Something was off.
He got out of the car and jogged to the sidewalk. If he got a look inside, saw everything was fine, he’d leave and ask her about it tomorrow.
Keegan heard the enraged voice before he saw anything. The tone alone set off warning bells in his head. He sprinted across the grass to the porch.
Jace Robinson stood over Willow. Her back was on the sofa and her arms were up. She kicked out, landing a blow on Jace’s hip. In the split second it took Keegan to process the moment, she swung at Jace with the decorative candleholder that had sat on the coffee table. Jace caught her wrist.
Keegan’s vision hazed red.
“Hey,” he shouted.
Jace started and turned his head toward Keegan.
Keegan dropped his shoulder and rushed forward, ramming Jace back into the sturdy side table.
“Keegan! Jace! No!”
Jace grappled with Keegan. A foot knocked his legs out from under him and he went down, Jace landing with a knee on Keegan’s chest, driving the air out of his lungs.
Willow rose up behind Jace and smacked him in the head with the candlestick holder.
Jace jolted and Keegan used that moment to shove the heavier man off him and scramble to his feet. He hauled back and punched Jace, sending the man sprawling onto his backside.
“I’ll kill you,” Jace roared as he got to his feet and drew a gun from his waistband.
“Oh, God—Keegan.” Willow grabbed his arm and tried to put herself between them.
Keegan kept his arm out. She might have worked out, she might be the cop, but damn it, he wasn’t going to let her risk herself for him.
“I’ll fucking kill you,” Jace said again.
“Put that down, Jace. You do not want to do this,” Willow said in a voice that brokered no argument. It had to be her cop voice.
Jace shifted his aim. “You don’t tell me what to do, whore.”
Keegan moved with it, using the coffee table to force Willow behind him.
In the distance a siren cried out.
“Keegan.” Willow shoved at his back, but he didn’t move.
Keegan kept his one hand up. “Jace, this is a mistake. Whatever you think you’re doing, this isn’t the way to go about it.”
Willow planted her hands on his shoulders and leaned against him. He heard her whisper, “Duck on three.”
His heart said no.
His gut said to trust her.
His head didn’t like either option.
“She’s the one who made the mistake. She is…” Jace raved.
Willow tapped Keegan’s shoulder once, twice.
On the third time he crouched.
Willow hurled a heavy marble knickknack at Jace.
At the same moment, Keegan rushed forward, tackling Jace to the ground. Willow was right behind him, throwing herself on Jace’s right arm, forcing the gun out of his grasp.
“Police,” someone bellowed from the doorway.
Willow sat on the curb in front of her house, Keegan’s arm protectively around her shoulders, as the entire SWAT division strolled her lawn. Someone had carted the still screaming Jace off for booking. Whatever hope he’d had of getting out of his latest brush with the law was moot. His parole was so beyond violated. There was no chance of him staying out of prison now.
While that should have comforted her, given her some peace of mind, it didn’t. If anything, she was more miserable now with the men and women she worked with digging into her life. Most were still dressed for the party, not a call. The only person who understood was Jenna, and even then she’d backed off after ensuring neither Willow nor Keegan was hurt beyond some bruises.
She closed her eyes and inhaled Keegan’s smell, committed the feel of his arm around her to memory. As soon as the questions started, she knew this could only end one way.
Her alone, fired, and cast right back into the role she’d created for herself.
Two familiar vehicles pulled in at the same time.
On her left, the white pickup driven by Pastor Alden.
On her right, the silver pickup driven by her Uncle Taylor.
Great.
“Willow?” Her uncle was taller and his stride ate up the ground between them. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay.” She pushed up, not wanting to sit in the gutter for this little chat.
Keegan also rose to stand at her side.
Pastor Alden jogged over, his gaze bouncing from her to his son, then her uncle.
“Is it true?” Pastor Alden asked.
“That Jace attacked Willow? Yeah, Dad.” Keegan’s scowl was fierce. Protective.
Willow drew in a deep breath, steeling herself against what came next.
“Pastor, I need you to back up and give us a minute,” her uncle said.
Willow shook her head. “No, it’s best if he hears all of this firsthand.”
“Hears what?” Uncle Taylor frowned.
“Why Jace attacked me. Why all of this happened.” Willow squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and did what she always did. Brazened through it all, because this was the path she’d chosen.
“Jace isn’t well,” Pastor Alden said.
Keegan snorted. “You think?”
“Quiet,” Uncle Taylor snapped, his attention on her.
She drew in a deep breath, wanting to get through all of this as succinctly and fast as possible. “Jace tried to blackmail me with private pictures he took of me without my consent. He wanted me to remove evidence that would connect him to a crime. I didn’t look at the case file, so I’m not sure of the details. When I didn’t…”
Her voice broke and a tremble shook her, but she had to keep going.
“When I didn’t cover for him, he attacked me. Keegan tried to stop him, and I’m guessing one of my neighbors saw, called dispatch, and here we are.” She stared down her nose at her boss.
Uncle Taylor was one of those men cut from cloth that no longer existed. He was a big, time-worn man who wore a cowboy hat, boots, and jeans every day of his life. He was rough around the edges, gruff, yet honorable. But he was also a product of his generation.
She expected a stern word then a quick kick to the behind as he followed procedure. So she was fully unprepared for the crestfallen, pained expression on his face now.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked.
Willow snorted. “Why would I? You know what I’m saying when I mean nonconsensual private pictures. I was naked. And I know what the rules say about behavior unbecoming an officer. If I’d told you, I’d be fired.”
“No,” he said quickly.
Willow’s anger was swift and hot. “Bullshit. When Jenna came to you about a stalker, what did you say?”
Uncle Taylor nodded. “I deserve that. I’ve also learned from that. Us old dogs can learn new tricks, kid. Come here.”
She was too stunned by his words and the fact that he was hugging her to do more than stand there. Her gruff uncle was not an affectionate person and here he was not firing her and hugging her in front of most of the people in his employ?
He bent his head and spoke for her alone. “The past is the past, Willow. I was a bitter old man before my time and I destroyed what little family I had. I’m ashamed that I wasn’t there for you when you were younger, but I’m so proud to be part of your future and what you’ve done. Don’t ever forget that, okay, kid?”
Uncle Taylor let go of her then, his blue eyes a bit too bright in the flashing lights. She stared at him, completely off-kilter.
Willow glanced at Pastor Alden. Keegan had dragged his father a few feet away, probably to give her what privacy they could get.
“There a problem, pastor?” Uncle Taylor drawled. T
here was a decided edge to his voice.
“No, Chief.” Pastor Alden hung his head. “Jace is a sick boy. What he’s done is wrong, and I’m sorry I ever went to bat for him.”
“You were looking out for him. Nothing wrong with that, but I think we owe it to the women to do right by them. Jace isn’t getting another chance, Pastor.”
Pastor Alden glanced at her and their gazes met. There was genuine anguish on his face.
“This wasn’t your fault, Pastor,” she said.
“Maybe not, but I wasn’t part of the solution. I’m sorry, Willow.”
She opened and closed her mouth.
Pastor Alden kept staring at her, regret written on his face.
They were all people making mistakes. Hers were of the flesh. His were that he loved his family so deeply he was blind to his actions.
She took two steps and hugged the thin, older man. He hugged her back, squeezing her tight.
“I was always wrong about you,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
She whispered back, “It’s okay. I forgive you.”
No one else had to know about the ill-made promise. What mattered was the future.
Willow stood back, too shell-shocked by it all to feel anything, really. She’d been prepared to lose everything. People like her didn’t get redemption.
“I think it’s best if you take Willow somewhere else tonight, Keegan. Uncle’s orders are to get out of here.” Uncle Taylor gave Keegan a pointed look. “Let me clean this up.”
“I can do that, sir.”
As Keegan steered her toward his car, Willow had to wonder, which nosey neighbor did she owe her life to?
Keegan maneuvered the stairs without spilling either of the mugs of hot chocolate on the freshly baked cookies. He’d left Willow upstairs long enough to come down to fetch the treats Ingrid had texted him were an option. Of course, she’d already heard about the commotion at Willow’s before they even arrived. That was how efficient the town grapevine was.
Tonight he was grateful.
Maybe she’d tell him in her own time?
He hoped so.
Keegan hated that she hadn’t told him any of this. It obviously had gone down right under his nose and she hadn’t turned to him at all. Normally she told him everything.