Page 75 of My Solemn Vow

“Well, this disgusting pig used to take videos of girls in the locker room at Our Lady of Good Council Preparatory. Then he’d sell that footage to the boys of neighboring high schools. To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if you saw some of it.” I clench my fist tighter, fighting the urge to slam it into his face.

“Oh, Marc.” Gavin tsks. “You’re a special snowflake of a slimeball. See, what did I tell ya, Marc with aC? What a cunt.”

Valor is calm, and I dislike it. He has a fucking daughter, yet he had no reaction. He doesn’t even move.

Slowly, though, there’s a shift in the air. It creeps in like frost inching over my body.

A noise comes from Valor. It’s a growl, practically inhuman. His voice is much deeper than it was before. “And what happened to Marc after he was caught?”

“Well, when I caught him, I beat the shit out of him.” It was the first time I ever hit someone. Slamming my knuckles into him hurt. I learned to do it better, but the pain was what stopped me from killing him. “And then Berto found out he wasthe one filming. Last I talked to Marc, he was in a hospital bed with two broken legs, all his ribs broken, and he was gasping for air when he promised me that he’d move states and wouldn’t be seen again. Apparently... he’s not a man of his word.”

“Toni,” Marc starts. My name comes out like a gasp and raspy, like when he said my name in the hospital bed.

Gavin puts the tape back over his mouth. “You never learn, do you?”

Valor stalks across the room to his cabinets. After pulling out some equipment, he brings the tools to the stainless-steel table, which he pulls toward Marc.

“Marc, I wasn’t mad when we found out you were the one responsible for selling the fight locations to the D’Medicis. I was disappointed. Were the D’Medicis paying you? According to Neil here... They weren’t. You were volunteering information.”

Marc fervently shakes his head.

So much for Berto being on the same team. So much for Berto wanting the same things. I can’t believe he’d even talk to Marc again.

Valor pulls the tape off Marc’s mouth and puts it on his arm. He squats down and snaps his ankles into harsh buckles at the bottom of the chair. It must hurt because Marc winces.

“No, I never took their money. I thought they were coming to place bets. You know I want to make a buck on the easy marks. It’s not like they’d know the fighters. Money is money. It all spends.” Marc’s nose is running, and it’s disgusting.

“That’s good. Noble of you trying to bring in business.” Valor is calmer as he bends, so he’s eye to eye with Marc. “Who else were you talking to?”

“Nobody!” Marc objects, but it’s too loud, too quick, and obviously a lie.

Valor shakes his head and turns back to the table. He grabs some sort of long blade. It’s mounted between two handles on either side. “Do you know what this is?”

Marc swallows and slowly shakes his head. “I swear. I didn’t tell nobody nothin’. I didn’t sell the footage. I stopped. I never did anything else again. Valor. I swear. Nobody else knew about the fights.”

“See, Marc. I’ve got a special power. I can tell when people are lying, and you keep lying to me. This is a curved draw shave knife.” Valor holds it up for him to see.

He shows Marc how sharp it is by pulling his thumb across the blade. The snick of metal is loud enough to be heard over Marc’s harsh breathing.

My heart is beating heavily in my chest as I imagine how Valor plans to use the knife. It looks sharp enough for a decapitation, but Valor doesn’t seem done with Marc. Seconds later, my guess is proven right.

Valor lowers the blade to Marc’s lap and situates it on top of his thigh.

“Valor. I swear. I told the D’Medicis and no one else. I don’t come to the cities except for your fights. Make some bets, get some money, then I leave again. I don’t talk to no one else,” Marc whines, his whole body shaking.

Valor’s blade cuts through the fabric of Marc’s pants. Marc screams out like he’s in pain, but there isn’t any blood. All Valor did was strip the fabric off his leg.

But a smell penetrates the air. It’s an acrid pee smell I’m attuned to from teaching.

“I hate when they fuckin’ piss themselves,” Neil groans.

I pull my eyes away from Valor as he slices off Marc’s pant leg to see Neil pat a very pale-looking Gavin on the arm.

“I’m going out to the van. You comin’, Gavin?”

Gavin looks like he’ll be sick, and there isn’t even any blood. Apparently, he’s squeamish at even the prospect of it.

He looks to me. “You wanna come too, A?”