Page 130 of Where Broken Wings Fly

When Killian attempts to approach me with his hands outstretched, I back away, warning him off. “Stay right there.”

Lola climbs to her feet. “I’m so sorry, Willow. I’ll never forgive myself.”

“I was a child.” My voice cracks. “Dad left me with all these debts. People smashing the door down and demanding money. I was homeless for months.”

“Willow, please—”

“I spent my nights stripping at a bar for money to pay them off. Did you know that?”

“I… I d-didn’t,” Lola admits.

Wrapping an arm around her shaking shoulders, Killian whispers in her ear, encouraging her to back off. It makes me even angrier, seeing him comfort her. Not even Zach or Micah have the guts to intervene.

“That’s where he found me, you know,” I shout at them all. “In that damned strip club. If it wasn’t for my father’s debts, I never would’ve been there.”

Pushing an inconsolable Lola behind him, Killian faces me. “Willow. Stop.”

“No, Kill!”

“Lola’s upset enough right now.”

“You’ve all been waiting to hear about him, right? Do you want to hear about what he did that night to make sure I was a virgin before he bought me?”

He flinches, his face paling. “Let’s talk about this inside.”

“After that, I was shipped off to Mexico to be his plaything for ten years. He forced me to marry him against my will and trapped me there. That’s the truth.”

It’s all pouring out. Every dirty, disgusting detail. Secrets I never intended to show the light of day. Lola looks like she’s going to have a heart attack, but Killian doesn’t return to her, his attention solely fixed on me.

“Stay back.” I raise my hands to protect myself. “Don’t touch me.”

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he offers in a soothing voice. “Just take a breath before you pass out. You need to calm down.”

Clutching my painfully tight chest, I fight to drag in a stuttered breath and fail. I’m so fucking angry. Lola. Mr Sanchez. My parents. The entire goddamn world is out to get me. I’ve been failed, over and over again, by everyone in my life.

The only reason I’m alive is because of me. My own determination to survive. Not even for myself, but for the one blessing my marriage gave me—my little girl. She kept my dead heart beating even as it shattered into irreparable pieces.

“I didn’t know I was pregnant when I came here because he hurt me so often,” I force out. “That was my baby, not his. I still lost it. I lost my baby, Kill.”

“I know,” he hushes. “I’m so sorry. It isn’t fair.”

My knees give out as I curl inwards with grief. “Nothing ever is.”

“Please, Willow,” Killian begs. “Let me help you.”

“I fucking lost my own child. I’m so weak!”

Before he can sink to the ground next to me, the pad of small feet overtakes him. I stare through my relentless tears at Arianna, racing across the lawn with her frostbitten blue eyes and pearly hair.

She looks so much like him, but she will always be my girl. All I see when I look at her is hope. It’s the same flickering flame of hope that kept me going when I gave birth to her alone, scared out of my mind and in so much pain.

I begged for death that night, but no one answered. Instead, I was given new life. Her tiny, terrified whimpers and thrashing fists screamed for attention, even as I sobbed in a bathtub of my own blood.

Arianna was always the one to get me off the floor, broken and beaten to a pulp after Mr Sanchez relished in his regular fits of rage. I’m not strong. I’m not brave. All that I am… it’s for her.

My little girl.

My guardian angel.

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