Page 11 of Vow of Vengeance (Destruction & Vengeance Duet #2)

nine

Declan

"I already saw this." Soren says, swallowing the disappointment she doesn't want me to see. She looks away from the computer, the images of her husband fucking other women.

It makes anger simmer inside of me, how devoted she seems to protecting his memory. It's why I don't feel too bad about how perfectly I'm going to shatter the illusion of him.

"No, you didn't." I tell her, gripping her chin lightly and pointing her face back to the screen. "Not like this."

"He cheated on me." Her voice is hollow, carefully void of emotion. "I know."

Something about the way she says it makes me think she's known for a while... for longer than the few days since I accidentally left his indiscretions up on my screen.

"You knew?"

"Deep down," she sighs, pressing her fingertips into her temples like that will erase memories she doesn't care to hold onto. "I knew something wasn't right. He never wanted to touch me anymore. It's like I repulsed him."

"It wasn't you." I assure her, weaving my fingers through her hair and pulling her head closer so I can press a kiss there.

One day, I will make her realize that her husband was a fool. One day, she will recognize that he was a goddamn idiot for not treasuring her when he had her.

But that day isn't today.

Today, I show her that he was a monster.

"It started slowly. He'd stay out late, missing a dinner here and there.

Then there were nights I'd fall asleep waiting on him to come home, wake up to him in the shower before he'd come to bed.

Sometimes he'd shower and never even come to bed, going out to the garage until I woke up and called him for breakfast. We argued a lot over having a baby, and I know that didn't help.

But I was so lonely. He didn't want me to have to work, so I just took care of the house, took care of myself until I got sick. "

"Sick?" I frown, not sure what she's referencing.

"I was diagnosed with PTSD from the car accident that killed my mom, general anxiety, and depression.

It took a while before I got answers, but those came with more problems. The meds made me forget things.

I'd lose hours of my life at random and wake up not even remembering how I got to bed.

" She frowns now, too. "I know it was selfish of me to want a baby when I couldn't even take care of myself.

It's why Vin didn't want one, why things got so much worse when he finally gave in and we started trying. "

I've combed through her medical records, and she's never had an official diagnosis of PTSD or general anxiety. The medications that I found prescribed to her were written by a doctor who doesn’t exist anywhere online.

She was hospitalized after her husband's death, when she tried to take her life, but they'd had her on a mental health hold and cited the reason as 'suicidal ideation and attempt' as a possible result of depression.

"Wanting a baby isn't selfish." I assure her.

She doesn't meet my eyes, staring blankly at the computer. "It is if you can't take care of it."

"What's selfish is not wanting one because he may have to take care of it and you.

As if it would make it any less worthwhile.

" I watch her blink in the reflection of the screen as she considers my words.

When she turns to face me, she's never looked more vulnerable.

It's impressive, given that I've had her in some very vulnerable positions.

"I mean it, Soren. I hope you know, deep down, that his not wanting a baby, his cheating on you, his lack of affection.

.. none of it had to do with you. Those are his shortcomings. "

"Easy for you to say," she rolls her eyes with a sigh. "You didn't even know him."

"I know that he's a monster. I know that he didn't deserve you. I know that he got what he deserved in the end."

I haven't told her I've seen the crime scene photos, that I've read the police report, that I know he bled out rather than dying instantly. He deserved suffering, and it seems he got it.

I see the indignation flare across her face, outrage perfectly timed as she opens her mouth to tell me I'm wrong.

I turn her head back to the screen again, cutting her off before she can argue, and scroll quickly down through the results, where the photos take a darker turn.

I'm not sure she notices it right away, her face going slack as she loses the resistance she's been holding so tightly to.

I watch her face as I progress from the more innocent photos of him lying atop naked women to the ones of them in bondage, ones with tears running down their face, ones where they're purple from the rope around their neck.

"Declan..." Soren whispers. I think she's trying to make me stop, because she can't look away on her own as I scroll lower, bringing up pictures of him using devices that look meant for torture on these same women.

I click on one of the stills at random, and a video begins to play of a woman screaming, tied to a bench. You can't see her face, because the camera is settled on her ass.

I don't know if I should have her watch this. I don't know how far it goes; even I don't want to see it.

On camera, the woman sobs and pleads, desperation in her voice as she tries to appeal to his humanity.

But I'm sure now, more than ever, that he didn't have any as he laughs.

He actually fucking laughs at her attempts to get him to walk away as he probes at her ass, which is centered for the camera to see.

She screams louder when he lines his dick up with her and hits her hard on the back of the head with his fist closed.

She shrieks before her body goes limp and he forces his way in, grunting and groaning.

I don't make her watch the whole thing. I've no desire to see him shoot his load into an unconscious and unwilling woman.

I navigate to another video, where a woman with a swollen eye and bloody lip shudders in the corner, never taking her eyes off him as he advances.

Neither of them speak as he drops his weight onto his knees and seizes her.

Despite her struggle, he overpowers her easily, dragging her across the stone ground and flipping her so hard her head knocks against the cement.

He slips a rope around her neck and pulls so hard her back arches, and she screams bloody murder as he forces his way inside her.

Making her watch her husband rape women is despicable, but I can justify it because she needs to know that he was, without a doubt, vile. I hate myself as much as Soren must hate me for watching this, for witnessing the real horrors of these women. I can see, though, that it’s working.

The last video I allow to play shows a woman spread eagle, bound to a bed. She looks half-dead, but there’s a little life in her yet, her head rolling as she tries to raise it. It’s clear she’s already been brutalized, her face covered in tears and mascara and dark streaks all over her skin… blood.

Something inside of me snaps, a realization that what we’re witnessing isn’t just kink or BDSM or even filmed assaults. The knife in Vin’s hand is a confirmation of that as he stalks toward her with it raised.

Soren must realize what’s about to happen too, because she gasps in horror as she watches it play out before us. There’s barely any life in the woman, but she tries to plead with the last of it anyway, right up until Vin snuffs it out a moment later.

Soren turns to me, burying her head in my chest as on the screen, a completely nude Vin stabs his victim in the stomach.

My arms close her in, but I watch in horror a second longer as he digs his fingers inside of her like he believes himself to be a surgeon.

The woman screams, choking on her own blood while more of it floods out onto the bed, which appears to have been covered with a sheet of plastic.

The blood pools on it, collecting like a river.

I slam the laptop shut as Vin mounts her body, unable to watch another second of what I now realize is this woman’s murder. I don’t want to think about what he’s doing, climbing on top of her after all that.

I drag my hands through my hair, raking my nails into my scalp.

I feel sick and angry... so fucking angry.

When my best friend in college sold me out to the fucking devil, I knew the guilt would eat me alive one day.

I was so focused on saving my mother that I didn't even let myself feel it until after she died.

It all came crashing on me every time Wes would reach out to me, testing to see whether I still fucking hated him.

That's never changed, of course. But the guilt did.

It got so much worse when he decided to torment me further, sending me occasional videos thanking me for my service.

I had to crawl out of the grave I dug for myself, so I created Evergreen Industries with the hope of doing some good in the world, no matter how miniscule.

I reinvented myself as the heir to an old fortune, buried my past life, and tried to move on.

Fucking random women who are enthusiastic about their desire to sleep with a millionaire has largely kept the guilt from consuming me, but when I lay down at night, screams echo in my head.

One of the last times Wes contacted me, he sent me a link that I should have ignored.

I didn't, though, and I had to watch as he tormented a young woman to prepare her for an auction. It’s her face that has tormented me for years, when I let myself sink too low.

A year later, he reached out again, asking for me to help find someone for him.

I’d agreed, only because he’d sworn to never reach out to me again.

That video hadn't been as vile, but it's the one that's kept me from sleep the most. It's the numbers on the side of the screen, the bids for more money than I even have in my checking account, the comments of what heinous things the bidders wanted to do with her.

I thought that was bad, but this is worse.

And I just made Soren watch it happen.

The regret is immediate, almost as consuming as the guilt.

She's stock still, a hand pressed against her mouth like that will help fight back any vomit that may fight to get out of her. But she hasn't eaten today, so there won't be anything to throw up.

I swipe my arm into the table, knocking it over and sending my laptop crashing to the floor where it busts, shattering like Soren’s entire world just did.

It does nothing to assuage the anger, but I need to reign it in.

I need to stay composed for her. I drop down to my knees before Soren, who still sits in the chair, staring at the spot the computer was a moment before.

She didn't even flinch at my outburst, and she doesn't move when I reach for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Ren,” I swallow past the dry feeling like gravel in my throat. “I'm sorry, baby. I-I’m sorry I made you watch that."

She's quiet and still, pale as a ghost.

"I know that I just ruined the idea of the man you loved.

" The words feel like a knife between my ribs, but I know they're true.

She loved someone before me. She may never love me, and who could blame her?

"But you needed to know that you weren't married to the man of your dreams. You were sleeping next to a monster. "

She just shakes her head a little, looking dazed. She opens her mouth, but her voice cracks before anything comes out, choking on whatever argument she was going to make.

Soren coughs, but it sets off a larger problem, making her cough harder until she's gasping, struggling to take a breath. I brace my hands on her shoulders, forcing her to stay still as she tries to stand, pushing against the arm rest.

"Breathe, Ren."

"I- c-can’t- ”

"Yes, you can. Focus."

She shakes her head and tries to push me away, but I force her back down. No chance am I letting her get up when she looks like she's going to pass out.

There are tears in her eyes, but when she looks at me, they don't brim over. Instead, she nods, taking a breath in through her nose as I nod.

"Good. Do it again."

She does it as immediately as I suggest it, and I weave her hair between my fingers, soothing little circles against her scalp as I pull her against me.

"Breathe with me." I tell her, taking a deep breath that she copies without further instruction.

She lets it go too soon, so I take a deeper one. This time when she mimics me she doesn't let it go ‘til I do.

We stay like that, matching breaths, holding tight to each other like we can keep one another afloat. We're both drowning, both fighting to right the wreckage of our lives. And I think we can do it with each other.

Because when I hold her, all that pain is gone.