Page 18 of Vow of Vengeance (Destruction & Vengeance Duet #2)

sixteen

Soren

The icon on the computer is still spinning when I pull my dress hastily over my head. It feels undignified, slipping it back on in the middle of his massive apartment after begging him to fuck me.

And yet, I also feel a sense of pride. That's the first time we've fucked that hasn't been carnal and raw.

That's not to say it was any less amazing, but it proved that whatever toxic chemistry exists between us, it isn't limited to pent-up passion and violent fucking.

If it's possible, what we just did was more powerful.

Declan slips into his boxers with ease and comes around to join me, sighing in frustration at the stupid wheel icon. I watch him sink onto the couch and begin tapping random keys, his frustration pulling mine out of me... along with guilt.

My best friend is missing, and I'm here fucking a man who refuses to give me a title. But then that thought makes me feel guilty, too, because my best friend is missing and I'm worried about whether the man who stands the best chance of finding her wants me to be his girlfriend.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Declan lets out a sigh that sounds more like a hiss, and I look up to see him with his fist curled against his mouth, frustration written on every inch of his gorgeous body.

"What?" I venture, afraid of the answer he could give me.

He doesn't answer immediately, appraising me like he's trying to decide what to tell me.

"What?" I repeat, trying to tamp down the anxiety.

"She's gone."

It takes a minute for the meaning of the word to come to mind.

Gone.

Like my baby.

Like my piece-of-shit husband.

"Gone?" I choke, feeling the world starting to lift at the edges. "Like...?"

Declan takes note of the tears in my eyes, the way I must look like I'm about to hit the ground, and he shakes his head.

"No. Not dead, but..." He swallows now, trying to figure out how to tell me something unpleasant. "Depending on where she is, dead may be a better option."

"What?"

My voice sounds far away from me, like it came from someone else in another room.

I watch Declan purse his lips together, and then he opens them again to speak. But no sound comes past his lips, and he doesn't even seem to notice.

"I- "

I try to tell him that he's not speaking, but neither am I. The word is a single letter, but it sticks in my throat, along with the air that I can't seem to breathe into my lungs.

He moves at me fast, but the ground gets to me first.

"There she is. The wilting flower." Declan chuckles, but when my eyes focus to take him in, he doesn't look amused. "Welcome back, Ren."

"Back?" I mumble, trying to remember where I was in the first place.

A glance around the room shows me that I'm in a strange place.

It's a large room, plain in it's furnishings.

A wall of windows runs the length of one side, and before me there's a wall with a simple black dresser pushed against it.

A mirror throws my reflection back at me, making the room look cavernous.

The yap of the little dog alerts me to her presence a second before she jumps at me, happily licking my face until I struggle to get a good breath.

It takes a minute before Declan comes to my rescue, pulling the small dog off me and tucking her against his chest. I can't help grinning at how ridiculous it looks to see him holding a little white furball to his chest. But as Roxy yips happily, I remember what I'm doing here.

I presume this is Declan's room, his sheets I'm lying on.

I remember that he brought me to his place so we could look for Marissa.

Marissa.

Gone.

I try to push out of the bed so suddenly that I don't even register what just happened until I'm on the floor on my knees, my palms throbbing from where they broke the fall.

"What the—"

"You won't be going anywhere, Ren." Declan explains, offering a hand down to me.

I look up at him through my confusion. He's like a god, fluffy little pup aside, and I'm down here worshipping him.

When I try to take the hand he's offering, I hear the chain rattle.

That's when I notice the shackle... a solid, heavy cuff of metal that circles my wrist. I blink at it, trying to figure out when that got there, and then turn to Declan.

"What the hell is this?"

"Insurance." He says, wiggling his fingers as a reminder to let him help me up. But the betrayal is keen, so I push to my feet of my own accord and test the cuff, seeing how secure it is. The other end is attached to his bedpost, a thick chain secured by a sturdy-looking padlock.

"What is going on?"

"You passed out, Soren." He says it like it's obvious. Which, yeah, that part is now that I remember. "You can't take care of yourself, so I guess I have to take care of you myself. So be a good girl and get back into bed."

"I'm not fucking dying." I snap, annoyed at the way he's treating me like a child.

To say that I'm not capable of taking care of myself when I've been doing it for the last year is an incredible insult.

"I'm sorry I passed out, but you just told me my best friend is better off dead than wherever she may be. She's all I have, Declan!"

"Wrong." He rolls his eyes, pushing me by the shoulder so that I fall easily onto the bed. "You have me."

"A psychopath who makes a habit of tying me to beds?" I laugh, and the sound is unhinged. "Declan, please. I need—"

"You need to focus on yourself. I'm not giving you up, Ren. Not to death, not to your own freedom. You belong to me, and I will ensure you're taken care of whether you want to be or not. Maybe once you start taking care of yourself properly, I can give you back some of your freedoms."

He sets Roxy on the bed and turns to go; panic flares inside my chest.

"Declan! I have to go to the police station and check in. I need to go to her apartment. I need..."

He turns back to me so fast that I shrink a little bit, overwhelmed by the intensity in his gaze as he leans over me, offering no escape from the words he wants me to understand.

"I am promising you now, Soren, that I will do everything I can to find her.

But I need you to take care of yourself for once, okay?

Right now, you're only chained to the bed.

If you refuse to nourish yourself properly, I'll have your every limb strapped to that same bed with a feeding tube in your nose and an IV in your arm again.

Dr. Kent is just waiting on the command. "

No.

"Declan." I shake my head, tears burning my eyes at the thought of being force-fed and tied to the bed like I'm not perfectly capable of doing this on my own. "I'm fine. This isn't necessary, okay? I'll eat whatever you want me to."

"Prove it." He says, pressing a kiss to my forehead. He doesn't move before he speaks his next words. "Because if you don't, all it will take is one call."

"Okay," I nod hurriedly. "I will. I'll be good."

He breathes me in, still with his lips on my forehead, his fingers tangling against my scalp. "Good. Because I won't lose you, Ren."

"You have me." I promise, nodding as I pull away to look at him in earnest. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll be good."

"I know." He smiles, nodding his agreement. "Now focus on getting better for me, little bird. I'll focus on finding Marissa for you."

I nod, because what other choice do I have?

Declan's right. I haven't taken care of myself the last year. I've pretended I was okay, kept up the appearance that I was putting in an effort to nourish myself mentally and physically.

All I am is a shell, left behind by the thing that used to occupy my body.