Dark Castle by Shanna Handel
14
Willow
He’s kissing me,grabbing my legs and wrapping them around his waist as he stands like a strong pillar, holding my weight with ease. I’ve read this scene countless times in my romance novels, but never experienced it, having a man hold you in his arms like this.
It’s thrilling.
His tongue pushes against mine, his hand winding around the hair at the back of my neck. Our kiss is interrupted by a burst of sound. I break away, startled, my feet sliding to the ground.
He goes for his waist. “Just my phone.” He pulls it from his pocket, checking the screen.
“Who is it?”
He hands it to me. “It’s for you.”
Briar Russoflashes at the top of the screen in green letters. I take the phone from him, answering on the third ring.
“Briar, oh my God, are you okay—"
“Yes, yes. We’re fine! Tell me you’re okay.”
“Yes. I’m okay too.” My gaze sneaks over to Santo’s. “I’ve been in very good hands.”
She snorts a laugh. “I hope not too good of hands.”
I don’t laugh.
There’s a beat of silence before her voice comes back. “Wait. Ah…Willow, you haven’t been, like, in his hands in his hands, have you?”
“Briar!”
“Well, have you?”
“Oh my God, Briar, stop.” I hide my face from Santo. He’s laughing at me, piecing together bits of our conversation.
Her voice comes charging through the line. “Did you sleep with him, Willow?”
“What? You’ve been on lockdown and I’ve been hiding in the woods and you want to know if my virginity is still intact?”
She persists. “Did. You. Sleep. With. Him.”
As the girls back at the castle would say, WTF?
I change the subject. “How about you tell me what happened there?”
Briar answers with exasperated haste. “Everything is fine. We’ve got this under control. It’s just a scare tactic. We can wait them out. They’ll be gone by dawn.”
“Thank God.” I look at Santo. “They’re okay.”
My sister’s words come over the phone repeating her question, measured and precise. “Did you sleep with him?”
I take a deep breath, filling myself with courage. “You know what, Briar? It’s none of your business.” I love my sisters. I’ve always been there for Briar.
But this thing with Santo…
This is mine.
I finish off softer. “Please, don’t ask again.”
She sucks in air between her teeth. “Willow.”
“What?” I snap.
“You know Dad wanted you to marry Leo. He’s a good match. You’d be safe and—”
I cut her off. I can’t hide these secrets any longer. She needs to know. “Speaking of Dad, I have something I need to tell you.”
She hangs on the other end of the phone in silence, taking it all in, the sordid story of our life. I fill her in on everything our dad told me, starting with his real name. I find myself using Tano, Dad, and Stefano interchangeably. Briar just listens.
It’s hard to believe they’re all the same man and that they’re our dad.
It’s even harder to tell her about how I hid my forest meetings with our dad from her. When I tell her about that, she finally speaks.
Her voice is tight with strain. “Willow, how long has this been going on?”
“I don’t know. A few weeks? Months?” I shrug.
“How did he come to you? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“He sent a messenger, a few months back.” Probably the same friend that he used to play himself when he came to Aldo with the marriage proposals. “He said my father wanted to see me, but to keep it a secret from everyone else for now. He took me to the woods.”
Anger brews in her voice. “And you just went? No questions asked? You didn’t think it was dangerous to follow a stranger, or that it’d be a good idea to tell me?”
Her disappointment plagues me—I know what she thinks of Santo, of me hiding my visits with Dad—but I won’t let it rule me. I’m a woman. A grown woman. I need to make my own decisions. Like Santo said, I don’t need to make them based on my mother and her false prophecies, or my father, or my sister’s wishes.
“I did what I thought was best.” The truth tumbles from my lips, however silly it is. “And you and Aldo are so wrapped up in your marriage and Posie has her new life. And I didn’t want anyone to hurt him, I didn’t know how you’d receive him after what he did, leaving us. I’d forgiven him and I know you said you had but I didn’t know if you did, not really. He asked me not to tell and I honored his wishes.”
She gives a soft sigh. “You always were his favorite.” She doesn’t say it with any jealousy or malice, just like it’s a fact.
“I don’t know about that.” But I think of my father’s smile for me, and I know it’s true. I was young when he left, but I still remember the bond between us. “Maybe.”
Her next words sting. “You were the least like Mother.”
My brow wrinkles. “That’s a compliment, I guess?”
“No, that’s not what I mean, I don’t mean Dad loved you because you weren’t like Mother. I just mean you were so sweet and soft and kind. Always the little caretaker.” There’s a quiet moment between us. I can’t see her face or read her emotions, but through the phone it feels like she’s rethinking her bossy big sister ways. “You weren’t just his favorite. You were all of our favorite. You were the best of all of us Rosas. You still are.”
The best of all the Rosas? Sneaking away, harboring secrets, going against the marriage they’ve arranged? “I don’t think so.”
“You are.”
Tears burn at the back of my throat. I have a hard time finding words. After a long moment of silence, I settle for a simple, “Thank you, Briar.”
“Look. Take care of yourself. And whatever path you choose, know I’ll back you up. I know I’m the boss most of the time, but I don’t think that’s what you need anymore.” Briar never cries but she sounds as if she’s holding back tears. “I think you need—I think…what you need, is…a friend.”
“I’ll always need my big sister,” I say quickly, brushing away a tear.
“Either way, I’m going to try to be a better friend to you.” She blows a kiss through the phone. “See you soon, Willow. Stay safe out there.”
“You too.” I hang up before I break out in sobs.
“Sounded like an intense exchange.” Santo’s eyes check mine.
“I’m fine. I promise.”
He reaches out, his hand finding my lower back. He rubs circles there. God. That feels so good. I’ve seen Aldo do it to Briar a thousand times, a small act of reassurance. I had no idea it felt like this.
He wraps his arm around my shoulders and I melt into his side, blissfully content. “Come on, let’s find you something to eat.”
“I’m fine,” I lie, wanting to pick back up where we left off before the phone call. My stomach growls loudly, selling me out.
He shoots me a stern look. “You’re eating.”
We find the kitchen stocked with dry goods and a propane gas camping stove. He opens a few cans of soup, pouring them in a cast iron pot. While he’s warming the food, I grab bowls, spoons, and two bottles of water.
This evening seems to call more for red wine than water, but I don’t find any. I do find a couple packs of crackers and we crumble them over the soup. We find two chairs in the kitchen—no table—and he drags them out to the fire while I set all the food prettily on a wooden tray.
We sit in front of the crackling warmth of the fire, hot bowls in our hands, and eat in a comfortable silence. “This is nice.”
“What? The food? I’ve had better. Nothing can compare with Sophia’s wedding soup.” He tips his bowl in his mouth, sipping the last few drops.
I shake my head, laughing. “No. This.” I gesture between us.
He smiles. “It is nice.”
“It’s just that the castle is so busy, so noisy. Sometimes I miss the quiet of our cabin in the woods. When it was just us.”
His brows raise in surprise. “You miss those days? Before you came to us?”
I guess a man raised on mafia wars and fast cars wouldn’t understand the quiet pace of living off the land. Cooking meals from your own garden, reading alone as long as you’d like.
I must seem silly. I shrug. “Not too much.”
“But it wasn’t all good, was it?” His gaze rests heavy on my face.
I look away, remembering the not-so-good times at the cabin, the dark times, as Briar and I call them. “No. You’re right.”
“Tell me. Tell me about Esme.”
Esme. The third thing. The bad thing.
My throat goes tight, those little hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. “What do you want to know?”
“I’ve only heard the story through her perspective. She says Vincent found her on his steps one day as a baby. That he never found out who left her there. Then, when you girls came, she found out—”
“We were her sisters. We abandoned her.”
He shakes his head. “No, your mother did. She just had Briar do the job for her.”
“My mother was obsessed with things happening in threes. Well, Esme…Esme was the third sister.”
“And your mother wanted her gone?” he asks.
I look down at my empty bowl. “Yes. She sent Briar to take the baby to the castle.”
“Shit.” He runs a hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end. “Shit.”
“Yeah. It was pretty bad.” I think of the ashen look on my six-year-old sister’s face as she came back to the cabin. She didn’t cry. Her face was as white as the paint on our walls, her eyes hollow and empty. I grabbed her hand in mine. It’s done? I asked. She only nodded. We crawled into bed together that night, sleeping with our bodies curled around one another for comfort. “We loved Baby—Esme—but we were scared mother would snap one day and hurt her, to get rid of the third thing, the bad thing. But she wasn’t bad. She was just a precious little baby. I’ll never forget those dark eyes peering up at us from under her blanket.”
Santo just stares at me, reaching his hand out to grab mine. “I’m so sorry, Willow.”
“It was a long time ago. I’ve let it go.” Tears burn in my eyes, but I won’t let them fall. I’ve already cried too much about the past. I need to live in the present. Esme had a great childhood, safe and happy at the castle. And now, all four of us sisters are reunited and we don’t care whose father is whose, how much DNA we share. We have each other and we are sisters, through and through.
He squeezes my hand. “I’m glad you girls came.” He takes my bowl, setting it down on the tray beside his. He leans in to kiss me.
I kiss him back. But as I kiss him, I remember how tightly Briar and I are tied together, our bond stronger than any I have with anyone else on this Earth. I’d do anything for her. And I know she didn’t want this thing between me and Santo, even if she tried to let it go.
The best of the Rosas…
I’m torn.
I pull away.
His brow knits. “You okay?”
“I’m fine!” God, I sound like a parrot, repeating the line so much. I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine. Maybe if I keep saying it, I’ll start to believe it. I smile, standing quickly, gathering dishes. “Thanks for the food.”
He helps me clean up. Luckily, the castle has running water. It’s not hot, but it’s better than nothing. I make quick work of using the bathroom, cherishing a moment alone. Lighting the room with his phone, I find a rag, wetting it and washing myself as best I can.
I splash some of the icy water on my face, hoping to cool the heat he’s set into my skin, but it’s no use.
It burns too deep.
