Page 29 of Where Broken Wings Fly

Killian props himself up in the corner of the room after locating a new shirt to wear, maintaining his steely, pissed-off silence. Two other guys have joined us, and one is the caramel-haired man who was looking after Arianna.

He slowly approaches me, wearing another easy smile that reveals dimples in his cheeks. Sticking his hand out for me to shake, he laughs under his breath when I decline.

“I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Zach.”

I take in his tight t-shirt and jeans. “Willow. Thanks for looking after my little girl.”

“Don’t mention it, babe. You need anything else, I’m around.”

“Alright, kid,” Killian hisses. “Back off the poor woman.”

“Just being a good host,” he snarks back.

Killian full-body shoves him into an armchair. Zach must be the cousin that he mentioned. I can see a vague resemblance in the rounded shapes of their eyes and strong, straight noses, though Killian looks a lot older than him.

The other guy gives me a friendly wave. With a headful of dark ringlets, warm blue eyes and a smile that lights up his whole innocent face, his presence is immediately welcoming. I tentatively return his smile.

“I’m Ryder,” he explains. “Welcome to town.”

“Um, thanks.”

Arianna tugs on the sleeve of my flannel shirt, dropping her voice to a hushed, conspiratorial whisper.

“Zach has ice cream in his cabin, and he said that if I’m a good girl, I can have some later.”

“Is that so?”

I watch Zach grin at my little girl. “What can I say, I’m a people pleaser.”

We’re interrupted by an older, grey-haired man entering the room, draining a thermos of coffee. He’s maybe a few years younger than Lola, his long hair tied back in a ponytail that shows off his weathered face.

“I’m Albie.” His voice twangs with a thick British accent. “Ryder’s my nephew. We already met briefly last night, but it’s nice to meet ya properly.”

“Thanks for, you know… rescuing me.”

Albie shrugs it off. “It’s what we do.”

Two middle-aged women, Rachel and Miranda, appear to hand out drinks after introducing themselves. Their matching silvery eyes and thick, red curls make it hard to tell them apart from each other. Sisters, for sure.

They disappear back into the kitchen to give us some privacy, leaving Lola to stride inside with a plate of chocolate chip cookies in hand. They smell fresh and homemade.

My stomach growls so loud, Killian shoots me another scowl before stealing the plate and dumping it in front of us.

“Eat,” he thunders.

I clear my throat. “I’m fine.”

“I’m getting really sick of you saying that. It wasn’t an invitation. Eat.”

“That’s enough, Killian. Willow is our guest,” Lola scolds.

He returns to brooding silence, but still stares at me with determination. I can’t decide if he wants to murder me or pin me to the floor until I agree to eat. Both scenarios are equally worrying.

Arianna begins to stuff her mouth with chocolate chip goodness. Lola smiles at her enthusiasm, taking the seat closest to us. She can barely keep her eyes off me, and wonderment is softening her aged features.

“Willow,” she whispers my name in awe. “I don’t know where to start. I can’t believe you’re here. It’s been so long.”

“I’ve been abroad for the last decade.”

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