Page 4 of Promise of Destruction (Destruction & Vengeance Duet #1)

four

Soren

Just a bit longer , I tell myself. Just hold on a little longer .

My hands are slick against the steering wheel as I drive over the bridge, holding all the breath in my lungs hostage.

It is a strange feeling, to simultaneously fear death and long for it.

I want it to end.

I want sweet oblivion.

But I don’t want to kill myself.

Death has stalked me my whole life… when I was two and my infant sister drowned, when I was ten and my mom died in the car accident that I survived, when my grandmother passed two days after my eighteenth birthday.

There’s more, but those are wounds that cut too deep… wounds that if I open, will not heal.

But just as nearly every day in the last twelve years, once I’m over the bridge and the city opens up before me, I can breathe again. At least, I can breathe enough to sigh as the text message notification chimes across my speakers.

“New text message from Marissa.”

I already know that it will say something about how ridiculously late I am.

I’m always late. I’ve run through life late to everything… my own birth and graduation, late periods holding onto a sliver of hope they wouldn’t come, and my chronic tardiness at the job I took out of spite but actually desperately need.

I tap the button to have my text read aloud, and the robotic voice even seems to scold me as she reads, “Your first round is on me. I bet Khan thirty dollars you wouldn’t make it before trivia ended.”

I ignore the text as easily as I ignore the car speakers butchering Khan’s name and pulling up to the back of the bar.

Pete grins as he sees me approaching, the studs in his lips wiggling as he does. “Looking good , baby.”

“I know.” I tease, rubbing his arm. “You look like you need to lay off the energy drinks and cocaine.”

“You vicious vixen,” he presses his hand to his heart like I’ve just stabbed him in it, but the smile never leaves his face.

“You love me for it.” I give him a quick hug. “But seriously, get some sleep tonight. Your heart can’t take all that abuse.”

“My dick could.” He winks suggestively, knowing full well that I’m not taking the bait.

I smile the way I always do.

At this point, I’m not sure if he really wants to sleep with me or if it’s just a habit to flirt with me.

Either way, it feels kind of nice to not be damaged in his eyes.

Lord knows the rest of the world looks at me like I’m a teapot without a handle, one little slip from shattering and scalding everyone in the process.

“I’ll see you later, Pete.”

He lets my hand slip out of his reluctantly and I throw the heavy door open to a small room that is so dark and clouded with smoke that it’s just fortunate I know my way through it on memory alone.

The men sitting at the small table have all adjusted to the dim and the haze, and they see me before I see them.

“Princess.” The grating of a chair sliding back against the floor swallows the chorus of greetings, and my eyes adjust just in time to see Tony’s chubby face before he’s kissing both of my cheeks and pulling me against him.

“To what do we owe this pleasure? It’s been weeks since we’ve seen your face around here. ”

“I’ve been busy.” I smile and wave around the room at the men I’ve come to know as friends over the years. But friends don’t dodge each other, so either I know deep down it’s because that’s a lie, or it’s because I’m a terrible friend.

Maybe it’s a little bit of both.

“Too busy for family ?” Tony clicks his tongue. “You know we worry about you when you aren’t around.”

“You don’t have to worry about me.” I grin, punching his arm playfully. “Come on, you guys know I can take care of myself.”

Tony matches my lightheartedness. “Sure, you can, I know. But I promised I’d take care of you. You know that.”

“I know.” I nod, mustering a smile. “And you’ve done a good job, but it’s been almost a year. Do you plan to have me check in with you every day for the rest of my life?”

“Or mine.” He shrugs his thick shoulders and claps me on the back.

“Fair enough,” I shake my head, laughing. “Since we’re on the topic…” I break off, unsure that I want to go there. I do, of course. I want answers, but I’ve asked every week for the past year, and every week the question has been met with silence.

“I know what you’re asking,” he warns with a shake of his head, “and I’m sorry, but I don’t know.”

I don’t know if I’m grateful to Tony for answering the question before I could ask it, or if I’m annoyed that he still has nothing to give me.

He says he’s promised to protect me, but I’m not the one who needs protection. It’s whoever is responsible for the nightmare that haunts me every time I close my eyes, every time I sit alone, every time I feel the quiet threatening to smother me.

But I’ve worked hard the past year to convince the rest of the world that I’m fine, so I’m sure as hell not going to let on that I’ve been lying this whole time. I force a little smile and nod my understanding.

“I’d love to stay and chat, but I’m meeting Rissa and Khan.”

“Ah,” Shriek nods, squinting to see the time on the gold watch hanging on his wrist. A thin man with a mess of dark, curly hair, and wire glasses perched on a crooked nose, Shriek looks innocent enough. But I know better. None of them are innocent . “How late are you?”

“Just late enough.” I grin, waving around at the men again, looking past the stacks of cash sitting on the tabletop. I don’t want to think about what things they may have done to get that money. “I’ll talk to you guys later.”

As I open the door into the bar, Nika tosses her long pink hair over her shoulder and waves quickly before going back to trying to seduce a patron into something.

He’s got both eyes trained on her tits, and honestly, I can’t blame him when they’re propped up on display like that.

Nika knows she’s gorgeous, and she isn’t afraid to use that to get what she wants.

I should have taken pointers from her long ago.

How different things may have been if I had.

“Margariiiita.” Marissa’s sing-song voice calls to me over the crowd of conversations, the drone of the televisions, and the music playing from staticky speakers.

“Wow.” I sidle up to her and drop onto the velvet couch, immediately kicking my heels off. “You’re really punishing me, aren’t you?”

I lift the drink to my lips, smell the wicked tang of the tequila, and subsequently try not to vomit before I can choke it down in a matter of seconds.

Marissa knows I hate tequila, and Nika knows how to make a drink that is strong right from the start. The sooner you get people to loosen up, the more they will buy. And the more they buy, the heavier her pockets are at the end of the night.

Khan shakes his head, his disapproval radiating off of him. I know he hates it here; this isn’t his scene. He favors the quiet of the lounge down the street, the scent of Cuban cigars to cigarettes, and the sort of refined décor that is typical of upscale bars.

But I like the things he doesn’t.

I honestly am not sure why he even puts up with me, much less Marissa.

Something in his soul just calls out to a piece of mine, and I assume he must feel the same.

Perhaps, in another life, he was a brother of mine.

Despite our differences, he’s always willing to support whatever crazy antics Marissa and I put him up to.

I decorated this entire place with every intention of making it feel like a strange mix of cozy and industrial and lush. And somehow, it works. Or at least, I think it does.

I haven’t looked at the books in a year, and I really could care less about profit, but if the way we’re always packed is any indication, we’ve created a place that people like to be. As strange as it is, this bar is my home, and these workers are all the family I have left.

“I saw your article.” Marissa grins, chewing at her plush pink lips almost like she can contain the satisfied smirk. “That took balls.”

“That was stupid .” Khan amends, shaking his head at me. “You love to rock the boat, don’t you?”

“Well, smooth seas never made a skilled sailor.” I smirk and signal to Nika that I’ll be wanting another drink.

“I wasn’t aware you were a sailor.” Khan rolls his eyes. “Listen, Ren, you should be careful.”

Yep, he must have been a brother in a past life, because he’s relentless in scolding me when I do something he disapproves of.

“Yeah, yeah,” I wave him off. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine .” Marissa has decided to join the conversation, and instead of helping back me up, she’s siding with our buttoned-up friend. Turncoat. “I love you, but that’s pretty obvious.”

“How am I not okay?” I cross my arms over my chest and arch an eyebrow, daring them to tell me what’s so wrong about me.

“The anniversary is just around the corner.” Khan says it gently, like he thinks the words can shatter me.

But nothing can shatter me… I’m not made of glass. I am iron and stone, cold and unyielding. I’ve loved and lost, and it has hardened me, but never broken me. What doesn’t kill me will make me stronger as I harden my heart and focus on the only thing I have left to make life worthwhile— revenge.

“I know the date.” I snap, despite the fact that I actually don’t. I’m not even sure what day of the week it is, to be perfectly honest. They’ve all sort of blurred together lately.

“Then you know why we’re concerned.” Marissa rests her hand on my shoulder, her eyes level on mine.

She’s beautiful, brilliant, and vivacious.

I am dark, cold, and distant. I don’t know why she’s my friend, either.

Perhaps because I wasn’t always this way, because she has hope that I can one day be the girl I used to be.

Marissa doesn’t realize that her friend is dead and gone, and she isn’t coming back.

Her loyalty is admirable, but I’m sure she won’t be able to deal with me for the rest of my life.

“Guys, I just got here. Maybe you want to have a few drinks before you start trying to cut me, hmm?”

“Odd choice of words.” Khan’s dark eyes flit over me, down and then up again, looking for any signs that something is amiss with me.

I bury my face in my hands and then rake them across my temples, where the tension has been pooling all day. I should feel relieved or exonerated or something, but I’m only annoyed.

“This isn’t therapy.”

“Because you quit going!” Khan snaps, shaking his hands in the air at me like he can guide the words into my skull and make them stick. “Did you really think we wouldn’t find out?”

My lips are trembling with the words on my tongue, the sting of betrayal cold in my gut. I can feel eyes on me, hear people whispering.

“Look at crazy Ren, freaking out on the only two people in the world who care about her. Did you hear about her husband? Some say she killed him, and the guilt was too much so she tried to kill herself, too. They found her in the bathtub, you know, wearing her wedding dress? I mean, the whole thing was just covered in blood.”

The world is blurring together, the voices blending into a static hum as everything fades away.

I can feel the knife in my skin again, the blade cutting through my flesh far more effortlessly than I expected. It makes me scream, but it’s nothing compared to the other pain inside of me.

“Ren!” Marissa’s voice brings me back to the present, and with it comes the chatter again. The world snaps back to itself and I’m reminded that I live here, in this cold reality made by the hell I never recovered from.

“Fuck you both.” I say the words before considering them and spring out of my seat before they can see the betrayal burning my eyes and clouding my vision.

And as I do, I step smack into a wall of muscle.