AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I set off in a run because I remember Willow’s threats regarding my dogs with crystal clarity. Assuredly, Willow remembers my corresponding threats should she harm Cerberus. But if there’s anything I’ve learned about Willow in the past few weeks, it’s that she has zero interest in self-preservation. Where I crave control and power, Willow seems to seek out chaos and danger.
There’s a dull ache in my chest as I run through the snow, past the ribbon of trees separating the grounds from the lake lower in the valley. Maybe it’s exhaustion, or maybe I’ve put more strain on my heart than I should have. The visit to the doctor before I fly out will be unpleasant, but not as unpleasant as what I’m going to do to Willow if she’s so much as—
The lake comes into view, a silver mirror reflecting the brilliant white of the snow-clouds above. Sedges and bulrushes stick out like black needles from the snow, which has half-melted amongst the shingle of the lake’s bank. Running up and down that bank is a small figure, three black shadows bounding alongside it. I narrow my eyes, catch my breath, and descend into the valley.
I don’t even need to call out or whistle—the moment the dogs spot me, they leap into a low, fast run and come to a deadstop at my feet, heads up, eyes on me as they wait for my command. Ahead of us, Willow turns and throws back her head in annoyance and comes stomping through the snow in our direction.
“Do youmind?” she says by way of an opening volley.
She’s wearing a tiny skirt despite the snow, with an oversized leather jacket that’s so old the leather is peeling around the elbows. There’s a bright red scarf wrapped around her face, and her hair is in messy pigtails. Her cheeks and nose are bright and shiny from the cold.
Nothing about her appearance endears me to her. Not when her handprint is throbbing across my cheek.
“Do you have a reason for kidnapping my dogs?” I ask as she draws closer.
“Kidnapping? Are we not on your property? Do you not have them chipped—” She stops herself, brandishes her wrist, where her bracelet is covered by the sleeve of her black coat. “Um, do you not haveuschipped?”
“I never gave you permission to remove my dogs from my house.”
She rolls her eyes. “Those poor dogs are dying from boredom in that house of yours. Life must feel like a prison to them. I’ve never once seen you play with them or feed them treats.”
“Have you ever heard of displacement, Lynch? Don’t project your neediness onto my dogs.”
“I’m not interested in you feeding me treats,” she says with a wave of her hand. “I’ve seen the shit you keep in your fridge. You eat like a rabbit. No wonder you’re so weak and scrawny.”
“Your insults might feel hurtful,” I point out, “if I held you in any form of respect.”
“The feeling’s mutual.” She smirks and leans forward, eyes sharp. “Difficult to feel respect for creepy masochists with mummy issues.”
“I have a perfectly healthy relationship with my mother.”
“Yeah,toohealthy if you ask me. Was it a struggle when you had to stop breastfeeding to go to boarding school?”
“Not enough to make me take a razor to my wrists.”
She’s silent for a split second. A split second as cold and hard as the frost encasing the cattails and grass blades. The air is suspended and heavy, like it is right before it snows. It’s a short moment, short enough that I might have missed it, was my gaze not fixed on Willow’s eyes.
There’s a dull gleam in the poison-green; the corner of her mouth lifts. Her breath comes out in a hot puff, like a silent laugh.
“You’re not going to find what you’re looking for.”
“Which is?” I lean over her, feet crunching into the snow.
Her smirk widens. “Someone to drag down in the mud with you.”
“I don’t need to drag you in the mud, Lynch. I found you there.”
I sidestep her and turn away from the lake. Cerberus follow, their pace steady and controlled as it always is in my presence. My eyes wander idly over the leather collars around their necks, and I wonder what Willow would be like on a leash.
She’s not well-trained like my dogs, but any animal can be broken with a firm enough hand.
She yells out behind me, “Your dogs like me better!”
“Nobody likes you,” I call back over my shoulder. “That’s why you have no father and no friends.”
I ignore the volley of insults she flings at my back, and I’m in an excellent mood for the rest of the day. The following morning, I leave for Switzerland without even bothering to tell Willow.
30
