Nya Bruce is being hunted down and she doesn't know why. It could be because she's the bastard daughter of famous millionaire Eddison Bruce. It could be because she's an infamous criminal investigators consultant who's put dozens of dangerous crimi...
"William Reed," a slithering voice came from behind Will as he waited for Angel to come back from the bathroom. "Will, is that you?"
Will turned towards a familiar face that he hoped to never see again. "Blair Corvan," he replied slowly, deciding whether or not he should be civil towards the snake. Every muscle in Will's body went taut and a sudden sense of dread filled his stomach. Where the fuck is Angel?
"It's Westwood now," Blair held up his left hand, showing off a very vibrant silver ring on his finger. "I'm a married man now," Blair smiled behind his long hair that fell into his face, displaying a set of pearly white teeth that had once ripped out the throat of another man.
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"Good for you Blair," Will replied calmly, trying to steady his nerves. "I'm surprised to see you here. I hope things are better now..." after the incident.
"Oh Will," Blair lurched forwards, putting his hands on the tabletop and the back of the booth, boxing Will inside. "I'm so much healthier now." Blair never knew the meaning of personal space, even after the two and half years they hadn't seen one another. He leaned in really far until Will could feel the mint and vodka radiating off him. "I know that when I left," when he was dishonorably discharged, "I was really very angry, but It was the best thing to ever happen to me. I'm really very thankful for everything that happened- and I never forgot that favor I owe you. You saved me Will," he leaned in further, flashing a shy smile, till Will could see his eyes behind his long dark hair. Blair's eyes where a light honey brown, but even in this low light, Will could see that they were rimmed with red and purple bruises, his face covered in bandages and stitches and dried blood.
Some things never change.
"I'm glad you're feeling better, Blair," he replied calmly. Holding his ground. Where the hell is-
"That man you were just with," Blair started, tilting his head like a confused animal. "Is he special to you?" Blair asked and all the hairs on Will's body went rigid.
Something was wrong, something was very very wrong.
Will, without hesitation, whipped out and yanked Blair's collar forward, shoving their faces together as he snarled. "What did you do," he hissed, listening to Blair catch his breath. "What the hell did you do, Westwood," he used the last name like a threat.
Blair, even in this state of surrender with his breath taken from him, looked to Will with confusion in his eyes. "He means a lot then," Blair whispered more to himself than to Will. Before Will could smash him against the tabletop, Blair replied, "The bathroom," he gasped, eyes wide, "you have to hu-"
Will shoved him back and sprinted through the crowd to get to the bathroom he'd seen Angel slip into. Even in the heat of war, or when he was chained up for interrogation, or when he faced a suicide bomber, Will had never been this afraid.
