Page 20 of Rogue’s Reckoning

I shed my cut and boots and slide back into bed beside her. Willow stirs, her eyes fluttering open.

"Rogue?" she mumbles sleepily. "Where'd you go?"

"Just had to take care of some work stuff," I tell her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. It's not exactly a lie, but guilt still gnaws at me.

Willow snuggles closer to me, her head resting on my chest. "Mmm, I'm glad you're back," she says, her voice still heavy with sleep.

I tighten my arms around her, breathing in her sweet scent. For a moment, I let myself imagine a different life. One where I'm just a normal guy who could give Willow the kind of life she deserves without constantly looking over my shoulder.

But that's not the life I have. And now, with Lochlann sniffing around, the danger is closer than ever.

"Willow," I say softly, knowing I need to start getting information. "Can I ask you something?"

She props herself up on an elbow, looking at me curiously. "Of course. What is it?"

I hesitate, trying to find the right words. "Your sister, Ivy... Are you two close?"

A flicker of confusion passes over Willow's face. "We used to be," she says slowly. "But lately... I don't know. She's been distant, secretive. Why do you ask?"

I shrug, trying to keep my tone casual. "Just curious. You mentioned her the other day, and I realized I don't know much about your family."

Willow's expression softens. "Well, there's not much to tell, really. My parents... they've always favored Ivy. She's the outgoing one, the artist. I'm just... me."

The pain in her voice makes me want to hunt down her parents and give them a piece of my mind. But I push that thought aside, focusing on the task at hand.

"What about Ivy's boyfriend?" I ask, remembering the intel about Lochlann. "Do you know him?"

Willow shakes her head. "Not really. She hasn't brought him around. I think his name is Lochlann, or something like that. Why all the questions about Ivy?"

I can see suspicion starting to form in her eyes, and I know I need to tread carefully. "Just trying to get to know you better," I say, leaning in to kiss her. "Every part.”

Willow melts into the kiss, her suspicion fading. As I deepen the kiss, sliding my hand up her thigh, I try to push away the guilt gnawing at me. I hate using her like this, manipulating her trust. But I need to know what she knows about Lochlann and the Hawks.

When we break apart, Willow's eyes are hazy with desire. "Mmm, I like this kind of getting to know each other," she murmurs.

I chuckle, trailing kisses down her neck. "Me too, Little Flower. But I do want to know more about you. About your life."

Willow sighs, contentedly, tilting her head to give me better access. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything," I say, nipping gently at her collarbone. "Your childhood, your family, your dreams—I want to know it all."

As my hands and mouth continue to explore her body, Willow starts to talk. She tells me about growing up in the shadow of her more outgoing sister, about her parents' constant disappointment in her quieter nature. She talks about herpassion for teaching, her dreams of making a difference in children's lives.

And as she speaks, I listen intently, filing away every detail. Not just for the club's benefit, but because I genuinely want to know her, to understand the beautiful, complex woman in my arms.

"What about you?" Willow asks suddenly, her fingers tracing the tattoos on my chest. "You know so much about me now, but I still feel like I barely know you."

I tense slightly, caught off guard by her question. "What do you want to know?" I ask cautiously.

Willow props herself up on an elbow, her eyes searching mine. "Everything," she echoes my earlier words. "Where did you grow up? What's your family like? How did you end up... doing whatever it is you do?"

I take a deep breath, weighing how much to tell her. I can't give her the whole truth—it would put her in too much danger. But I can't keep lying to her either.

"I grew up with just my dad," I say finally. "He wasn’t always present, but he was great. I miss him now that he’s gone."

I trail off, realizing I’m getting close to talking about the club. Willow's eyes soften with sympathy, and she leans in to press a gentle kiss to my lips.

"Gone?" she prompts gently.

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