Victor Black - And the Garden of the Gods

Chapter 33: A Snowy Journey

Willow's mother and her aunt Joselin had no choice but to sleep in on Friday morning. Consuming too much wine did its job. It ensured Willow's uninterrupted exit from the house with Victor, who had already fired up the Jeep to warm it in the dark.

The security guards had camped in the bedroom next to Joselin. They exited the room periodically to check the house, looking in on Willow as she slept. They searched the home several times at night. However, there were no signs of them when she left, easing the front door shut behind her.

"You're looking austere," said Victor, as Willow climbed up in the Jeep, dressed in a black, fur-lined parka, black leggings, and black boots. Her face reflected the seriousness of what lay ahead for them and their friends.

Victor wore the same parka, but instead of jeans, he sported black tactical pants, and heavy, thick-soled boots.

"It's like looking in a mirror," said Willow.

"It was your idea to have a look," said Victor, smiling. "I think we look pretty badass."

"Do you have all the supplies?" said Willow.

She turned the interior lights on and looked behind her in the rear seat, spotting a mound of other equipment. Some cut rope, an ax, and bags full of gadgets had been pushed aside when Shadow last sat in the seat.

Willow reached behind her. She spied something metallic sticking out from under the red duffel.

"What do we have here?"

Her hand brushed what she thought was a crowbar or a pipe. As she wrapped her fingers around it and pulled it out, the gun Victor had swiped from his mother's purse made itself known. The cold, textured surface of the handle and its edgy curves formed perfectly to the shape of Willow's hand.

"Oh, wow," whispered Willow. "What are you doing with this? How did you get it?"

Willow caught him. He had forgotten all about the handgun he had taken. Even his mother never brought it up. He felt momentarily relieved he had not chosen it for his ending.

How messy, he thought. How incredibly terrible it would have been.

His eyes moved from the weapon in Willow's hand to her eyes. They had grown intense.

"Is it still loaded?" said Willow.

"Yes."

"Victor, you're crazy. You shouldn't have this —"

"The safety's on."

"SO, not the point. Why —"

Victor gave her a stern look. In slow motion, he placed his hand around it, removing it from her grasp. He reached over her legs and popped the glove compartment open, plopping the gun on top of some papers, and burying it under a mound of tissues.

"I don't think we need to discuss this," said Victor, closing the compartment. "It was an option, but only briefly." He put the Jeep in gear and headed down the snow-packed road.

Willow sat silently, contemplating. Her mind buzzed with visions of what could have happened if Victor had chosen to use the gun. She did remember the marking on Victor's neck and how the doctor had been dismayed when they disappeared so fast.

She couldn't believe any of it even happened. The mere idea it had, brought up more questions than answers.

Willow shook her head, batted her eyelashes, and let out a deep, groaning breath.

"Well, if things go bad with Regan —"

"We have several weapons," said Victor. "We have everything we need, and I'm fine, don't worry."