“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
She gives me a wary look, and I feel her sizing me up. I’d like to smooth the worry lines from her forehead, but instead, I clasp my hands together and stop myself from capturing the loose strands of hair that have inevitably come loose from her topknot.
“My brother got involved with some bad people.”
“The Street Kings.”
Her eyes widen in surprise. “How do you know?”
I shouldn’t have said the name of the gang. That information is supposed to be private, and I can’t admit that I was peering into files I have no right to peer into. But if I want honesty from her, then I have to show it myself.
“I read your file.”
For a moment, the worry washes off her face, and she raises an eyebrow at me. She likes that I read her file, and I store that info away for later. Her half-smile makes her eyes dance, but I can’t be distracted by her beauty right now.
“I read all the files,” I add.
“Of course you did.”
The smile falls from her face, and I internally punch myself for bringing her down again. She peers out the window, and her gaze sweeps the parking lot, the worry sitting heavy on her features.
“You were telling me about your brother,” I say gently.
“He got in with a gang. I tried to help. I got caught.”
She says it simply, laying out the facts. But there’s more to the story than she’s telling me.
“So what’s going on now? Why are you leaving?”
Her gaze comes back to find mine. “If you read my file, then you know about the Street Kings.”
I’ve spent the past week finding out everything I can about them and trying to figure out how a woman like Willow got involved with people like that. They’re into everything from stolen goods to drug running and intimidation.
“I’ve heard things.”
“They think I owe them, and they know where I am.”
Her words send a shiver down my spine. My blood goes cold, and I meet her gaze, the fear no longer hiding in her expression.
Tendrils of hair caress her cheek, and her lips press together. I want to keep her safe from them. I want to preserve her light and make sure she never comes to harm.
“I can help.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not going to the police, Hudson. I took a plea deal to stay out of jail. In the eyes of the law, I’m part of this gang. They’re not going to have any sympathy for me wanting to ditch my parole and escape.”
“But they can keep you safe.”
“No,” she says. “They’ve never kept me or my family safe. My only option is to get away from here and find my brother before they do.”
She grips the steering wheel, and her eyes blaze. She may be fierce sitting behind the wheel of her car, but what does a woman like Willow know about tracking someone?
“Do know where your brother is?”
“No.” Her frustration comes out as her voice wavers. “I have no idea, but I need to get out of here and find him. And I need to go soon because I’m meant to meet them in half an hour, and whenI don’t show, they’re going to come looking for me.” She tries to close the car door, but I block it again. “So thanks for the talk, but I really need to get out of here.”
She has no plan and no resources, and I can’t let her drive away like this.
