Page 60 of Where Broken Wings Fly

BURY ME - FRIDAY PILOTS CLUB

Anxiously bouncing on my feet, I wrap the checked scarf around my neck, glancing in the mirror that hangs in Lola’s hallway. The bruising on my face has faded to a mottled green and yellow in the last few days. It hurts less to touch now.

Inky bruises still stain the skin under my hollow eyes, but overall, I’m looking a lot better. Running my fingers over my black hair, I study the long length with a clinging sense of hatred. I always hated it like this.

Mr Sanchez never let me cut it. I’d secretly trim the ends, but he liked a good headful of hair to wrench as he dragged me through shadowed halls. It makes me sick now. He’s still in control, no matter the miles between us.

Quickly braiding it to the side, I turn my back on my reflection and startle. Lola is standing at the bottom of the stairs, silently watching me without saying a word.

“Are you sure you don’t mind me leaving her behind?” I repeat for the tenth time.

“Willow, I can look after my own great-granddaughter.”

“I know, it’s just that we’ve never been separated before.”

“It’s safer for her here, until we know where we stand,” she says firmly. “Go and take my credit card. Get everything you need and use those boys’ muscles to your advantage.”

“I’m not taking your money. I have cash.”

“You will take my card and use it,” she says with finality. “This isn’t up for discussion. No family of mine is going to use blood money to put clothes on their backs.”

My stomach bottoms out. “Blood money?”

“I’m a patient woman.” She gifts me a loaded look. “You’re going to have to trust me sometime and tell me why you’re here. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“I… I know that.”

“Then sit down and tell me the truth.”

She’s straying dangerously close to my secrets, and I need to throw her off the scent. Lola isn’t the kind of person to let evil exist in the world unchallenged. I’m scared of what she’d do if she knew the truth.

“It isn’t safe. I have to think about your safety too.”

“What’s so dangerous about some real estate agent? What don’t I know?”

A loud ringing in my ears drowns everything else out. Head spinning, I bend down to lace my leather boots, turning the cuffs of my jeans up several times to fit better.

“Where did you get that information?” I force an even voice.

“If you’re going to use my computer, you should clear the search history. I’m not trying to snoop, but I’m your grandmother.”

I bite my lip, holding back a curse. This is exactly what I was worried about when I agreed to stay in Briar Valley. I want to belong here, but I refuse to endanger anyone else.

“Let me in, Willow,” she pleads.

Backtracking to put more space between us, a thousand escape routes zip through my mind. Arianna is in the kitchen, preparing for a day of baking. She would never forgive me if I put her in Killian’s truck and drove away from the first home she’s ever had.

“I’m sorry. I can’t.”

I watch Lola’s face fall.

“One day, I hope that you’ll trust me,” she begs. “I’m here to listen.”

“It isn’t a matter of trust, believe me. I’ve got to go.”

Grabbing my coat, I flee the cabin before she pushes any further. A faded red truck is idling outside for me. Inside, two solid lumps of muscle watch me descend the porch steps. I race over and climb inside as Zach finishes puffing on a cigarette.

“Morning, guys.”

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