Page 81 of Fighting Fate

“Trust me, you’re just fine.” I’m trying to put her at ease with my laughter, but even though she smiles a little wider, I can still sense her tenseness.

Grabbing her hand, I lace my fingers with hers and guide her back to the kitchen so we can let Mom know she’s heading home. I know that I’m pushing my luck and even taking advantage of every touch she allows me to steal, and maybe another time I would feel bad for it, but right now, I want everything I can get, however I can get it.

“Since when do you have a car?” she asks when we’re in the garage, in front of the Range rental I swapped the bike for.

“The motorbike wasn’t practical anymore. Pregnant women and bikes don’t mesh together.” I help her up inside, and once she’s settled, I strap her in, taking my sweet-ass time while I breathe in her scent.

“You didn’t have to give your bike up because of us,” she tells me when we start heading to her place.

“I know, but this is better…safer for everyone.”

Willow says nothing, but I can tell she’s happy about it. The several times I took her out on the bike, she wasn’t a fan. Now with the baby…I guess it didn’t feel right to feel so fucking scared of what might happen to me in the cage and how it’ll affect them and yet ride around on what she calls a deathtrap.

We ride in silence most of the way back to her flat with just the radio whispering around us and the city lights flashing by. If it had taken us any longer to get here, Willow might have fallen asleep.

“Thank you for bringing me home,” she says when we park right outside her building.

“It’s why I got the four wheels,” I reply before I get out and round the front of the range to help her out.

Despite the fact we’re in August and it’s the peak of summer, the evening is cooling rapidly. Willow’s shivering as I walk her up the steps to her front door. We’re almost to the top when the breeze pushes it wide open, and the damage to the surround by the lock becomes visible.

Willow shrinks back into me, and I don’t hesitate to wrap my arm around her. I try to turn her around so I can get her back in the car before I go check out her flat, but she’s not having any of it.

“It’s best I go with you, and anyway, it’s probably nothing. The neighbour downstairs is always forgetting his keys and getting himself locked out…”

I don’t buy it. My gut is rarely wrong, and right now, it’s telling me something’s up. Taking the stairs up slow, I scout the other neighbours’ doors. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. The girl on the floor beneath Willow’s is playing her music loud enough that it could be a block concert. I’m not sure what the plan is house-wise, but I’m not sure Willow’s going to be able to live here after the baby is born.

The instant her wide-open door is in view, that worry falls to the back of my mind. The lights in her place are all off, and with the exception of the music coming up through the floor, the place is quiet.

“Stay out here, and have your phone ready to call for help,” I tell her as I go inside and flip the hallway light on. I move through the flat, checking every room until I know it’s empty. Once I’m certain we’re good, I bring Willow inside and allow her to give the place a once-over to check for missing things while I call the cops.

“Rory!” she screams from the kitchen as I’m ending the call.

I’m in there in a heartbeat. My heart is in my throat as I find her in front of the refrigerator. Her entire body is wracking with sobs, and before I assess what’s going on, I pull her into me so that I can comfort her. It’s only when I look up I find the scan of the baby stabbed through with a large knife.

In an instant, my blood runs cold, and if it wasn’t for her in my arms, I don’t know what I would do right now. Anger unlike I’ve ever felt swallows me whole, leaving me sick to my stomach.

“I can’t do this, Rory. I can’t live like this…” Willow cries, pushing away from me to stare at the refrigerator door again. “I can deal with the hate mail and empty threats. I don’t even really care about the horrible comments…but this? This is too far,” she spits through gritted teeth, looking back at me.

There’s a constant nagging over her remark as I try to pacify her, “I know…I know…” I’m trying to push aside my feelings so I can deal with hers.

Willow is the priority right now. She’s my one and only concern when the cops arrive and we answer their questions the best we can. Even when we’re across the room from each other, I can feel her tumultuous emotions. It doesn’t matter that she said she was all right talking to the police on her own; I can’t stand back and watch her suffer on her own.

The female officer smiles as I approach. “We’ll get the detectives here as soon as possible, and we’ll have someone watching the building. However, if you have someone you can stay with until we’ve gathered evidence, that would be helpful, and it might make you feel more at ease.”

“She’s staying with me,” I say quickly before Willow answers. There’s no way I’m letting her out of my sight. In my head, I’m already going through all the things I can do to make sure she and the baby are safe.

All the worrying I’ve done over what might happen if something goes wrong in a fight seems ridiculous when the actual issue is outside. After that first letter, I should’ve done something.

Why didn’t I? Why didn’t I think more of it?

“If you get any more mail that you feel might be threatening or that has any negative narrative, let me know. It might be nothing, or it could be something. Whatever you do, don’t throw it away until we have checked it through, okay?”

I don’t know what the officer is talking about. “Mail? It was one letter…right?”

The cop and Willow exchange a loaded glance that tells me there’s something vital I’m missing.

“They were just letters…” she mutters.

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