Page 4 of Sinful Palace

The same question had plagued my mind since I shot Teddy. Why the fuck did I save Willow from him when I hated her so much? Not only had she tried to kill my sister five years ago, she’d now put my whole family in danger with this fire situation.

Deep down, I knew Teddy (or whoever he hired to do the job) was the one who set the fire at the house, and he was the one who chose to light it near Chloe’s room, knowing how that would affect me. But he only did it to cause a lengthy distraction in order to help Willow escape the house. She asked for that, so she was equally responsible.

That begged the question once more. Why did I shoot Teddy? Why didn’t I let him kill her?

I thought back to the urge that overtook me at the port, and regret seeped through my veins as I grudgingly acknowledged what it meant. Somehow, for no discernible reason, I must’ve actually grown to care about the girl next to me.

When I saw my so-called friend standing there ready to murder her in cold blood, I experienced a jolt of something I hadn’t felt since I was called into the hospital for my sister five years ago.

Fear.

With that panic and desperation lighting a fire in my blood, I couldn’t help but spring into action to save Willow. As much as I wished it wasn’t true, deep down I knew I wouldn’t have done that or felt that for anyone but her.

Shit.

Willow wasn’t supposed to mean anything to me after the horrible things she’d done. She was supposed to be my toy. My little fuckdoll. My slave. Not a person I gave a fuck about. Certainly not a person I’d shoot my friend over.

I gritted my teeth at the thought. I hated this. Hated that I actually cared for her, despite everything she’d done. Hated that I’d killed for her.

Anger at the sickening realization simmered in my guts, and I pressed my lips into a thin line as I tried to push the feelings aside. I couldn’t let this happen. I needed to put the mask back on. Bury the feelings deep. Stay cold and detached.

You don’t really care about her,a little voice whispered in the back of my mind. It was just a primal instinct. You saw a woman in distress and your inner caveman came out. It drove you to save her and comfort her with that embrace. It doesn’t mean you actually have feelings for her.

Yes. That had to be it. I didn’t actually care about her. Not one bit. I just saved her in a moment of raw instinct when the lizard part of my brain took control.

That thought comforted me. Lessened the guilt.

Also, now that I was really thinking about it, it actually made sense for me to choose Willow over Teddy. It was the path of least resistance.

Everyone knew Teddy had completely lost his shit after his father’s death. He’d barely eaten in months, his nose was frequently buried in a mound of coke, and whenever he wasn’t high and acting like an asshole, he was drunk and acting like an idiot. If he vanished, his family and friends would be upset, but they’d understand in the end. As dark and dismal as it sounded, they’d probably assume he wandered off somewhere to kill himself. While there’d be a lot of grieving, there wouldn’t be any outrage or media furor over his disappearance.

However, if Willow was found dead or disappeared entirely depending on how things went down, it would be a different story. The country would be in an uproar for months over her demise, and then it would only be a matter of time until the ugly truth came out about the last few months of her life.

Saving her from Teddy’s bullet was simply the easiest option. A way to avoid all the danger and drama. That was all.

I finally turned to glance at Willow again. “I saved you because I own you. I won’t tolerate anyone trying to destroy my property,” I said in a curt tone.

“Oh,” she mumbled. She lowered her eyes again, fretfully twisting her hands on her lap. “Can I please ask one more thing?”

I briefly flicked my gaze upward. “Fine. What?”

“Did you read all the messages on the phone?”

“Yes.”

She looked back over at me, eyes wide and beseeching. “So then you know I wasn’t trying to escape. I never said anything that could get you in trouble or make you look bad. I just made you seem like a worried partner.”

I scoffed. “Seriously? You’re telling me you were going to leave the house, grab that file from your source—if it actually existed—and then waltz back home like nothing happened?”

“Yes,” she said in a small voice.

I let out a short, sharp snort. “Give me a fucking break.”

She clasped her hands in front of her, like she was praying. “Logan, I swear. I was going to come back. All I wanted to do was get some evidence to help my mom.”

“Jesus.” I rolled my eyes. “You know she probably did it, right? They wouldn’t have formed a Judiciary Committee, appointed a Special Counsel, and ordered the exhumation of Rutherford’s body if they didn’t think there was a chance she did something to him.”

“No. I know she’s innocent. I knew it when she looked at me during that interview. The way she talked to me.…” Willow trailed off and shook her head. “I just wanted to fix what I did so she’d forgive me. I swear I wasn’t going to escape.”

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