Page 26 of Vow of Vengeance (Destruction & Vengeance Duet #2)

twenty-two

Soren

Neither of us has said what I'm thinking.

And to be fair, I'm thinking a lot of things.

Things that I wish I could cut out of my brain as if they never existed at all.

But doing so feels wrong. Looking the other way feels like another betrayal to everyone who was affected by what Vin did to them.

It feels somehow like my responsibility to sit in this pain, to hold it for the ones who can't hold it themselves.

My mind can fill in the gaps for what each thing we found down in that cellar was intended for, and each of them is horrifying, and disgusting, and depraved.

And most horrifying of all is the fact that there was only the stairs and the hidden door.

.. no other entrance, no other exit. There was nothing down there except for things that were arguably too large to have been brought down the steps.

One could argue that the table was put together downstairs, but the steel trough and the nightmare fuel exam chair sure as fuck weren't brought down in pieces, which means they were brought in before the subfloor was put in.

.. back when I was making plans for the decor of the bar and grateful to have something to keep me busy.

It was supposed to be my bar, my place to control, to have something all my own for once in my life.

I didn't mind when it turned into more of a gathering spot for the guys.

I didn't complain when they started to do business out of the bar and brought people around who made my stomach twist just by looking at them.

I didn't even complain when things around the bar started to get tense and we had to put Pete on security so that no one would drop by and pay me a visit while I was alone there.

In fact, once I got sick, it was nice to have the help around the bar, as I spent so much time being down in one way or another that it made running my business solo impossible.

But now, having seen what was literally under my nose that whole time, I know the truth.

The bar was never mine.

It was a front, a ruse. I was a ruse.

Am I complicit?

Did Vin take his wedding ring off when he raped and tortured women?

Did they look at that ring and wonder what sort of monster could be married to a monster like him?

Did he murder them himself? Clearly there's only one way out of that basement, and it's not by walking out.

Was my husband a murderer? Did he wear his wedding ring when he dismembered bodies in that steel trough and then wash the blood down the drain before coming home to crawl into bed with me?

My sham marriage to my pretend husband seems like it was all just a trick, designed to keep me complacent and cover for his sins.

The air doesn't feel right when we step outside. It's too thin, doesn't have enough oxygen. I feel the ground tilt beneath me but I don't want to draw any attention to myself. I'm fine.

"Tony knows now that we know." Declan says. His words sounds strange, like they're spoken from outside a bubble, like I'm in a cloud that no one can penetrate. I stop walking to turn to him, because I heard what he said, but I don't understand. "You keep your distance from him, okay?"

I open my mouth but no sound comes out. No words come to mind. The world feels like it's been put on pause— or rather, like I've been put on pause while the world moves around me.

Declan frowns. "Ren?"

"I-"

He grips my cheeks suddenly enough that I blink, focusing now on how close his face is to mine.

It's a gorgeous face. Tan and handsome and full of concern.

"Listen to me." He says, the tip of his thumb breaking from his grip and stroking my lips slowly. "We will find her. I promise you, one way or another, we will find Marissa."

I know what he means when he says one way or another. He means we'll find her, whether she's alive or dead. Whether she's dead, or worse.

Oh my god.

Oh my god.

The thought of anybody suffering the way I know they have is horrific and ugly and disgusting. But the thought of my best friend suffering that? It's incomprehensible. My brain won't let me go there.

"Dec-" My throat feels tight. I can't-

"Breathe, little bird."

I don't think I can survive it if we find her dead. I don't think I can survive it if we find her worse...

"You're going to keep it together for me, okay, baby?

" Declan asks, nodding as if it will convince me that I'm capable of that.

Maybe it does, because I nod. "When we find her, she's going to need you.

You realize that? She's been there for you for everything, right?

So, you need to be there for her this time. You can do that, hmm?"

I'm still nodding, grateful for his presence because I think it's the only thing keeping me upright.

"Don't give up hope." Khan says, making me turn to him in surprise. I'd forgotten he was even with us. He braces a hand on my shoulder. "We'll find her."

Declan's eyes narrow on Khan's hand, and he doesn't say a word before Khan realizes his irritation and slowly removes his touch. He clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck.

"I'm gonna get home. I've got to get some sleep. Just... hang in there."

Declan

I hate leaving her even long enough to work, and I refuse to let her leave the house by herself.

It's why I came back here with her so that she could collect a few of her possessions from the home she lived in with her husband.

No way in hell was I letting her go alone, but I don't like being here.

Her husband is everywhere in this place.

Tony has still been silent, which is unnerving. He's plotting, but I don't know what for.

"I'm just going to grab a few things." She assures me. "I'll be quick."

Soren's definition of quick is not the same as mine, apparently. Because it's been five minutes and I've already called up the steps to be sure she's alright.

I don't know what possesses me to do it, but I find my way out to the garage, surveying the wreckage of her former life.

The box that had the baby stuff in it is still exactly where I left it the night she found me rifling through it, the bunny on top looking blankly up at me.

I lift it by the neck and appraise the thing, imagining what would have happened if she hadn't lost the baby with her husband.

I have no qualms about raising a child that isn't my own DNA.

It's why I know we'll have a family one way or another.

There are options, if biology fails us. I'd adopt a child in a heartbeat if it meant making her happy.

And I think because it would make me happy too.

I don't have much experience with children, but I enjoy the idea of them.

After all, they're already far better than adults just based on the fact that behavior is learned.

I let the rabbit back into the box and turn to survey the rest of the garage.

I wonder whether Soren would be angry if I had someone come to sort through all of this stuff.

She clearly has no need for all of it, or it wouldn't be in the garage in boxes coated with dust. Not all of them are, though.

I notice another one that's open, and move to peer inside, curious.

It's just clothing, by the looks of it. I reach in and pull out the article on top.

.. a hockey fan jersey. It's far too big to be Soren's and I can't imagine she cared about hockey ever.

Beneath it are dress shirts, polos. I lift another just to be sure, and it's clearly what I think it is.

She's still holding onto all her husband's clothing.

Perhaps a bonfire is in order. I bet my little bird would love to watch the remnants of her vicious husband's life go up in flames.

I intend to get rid of everything here sooner or later, including the house. But if she's that attached to the shell, I'll happily gut the entire place, removing everything her husband touched. She can use it as her office, once we no longer have to worry about Tony, once we've found Marissa.

I've spent every hour I could re-writing the code to get Marissa back into the system, but I can't recover what's been deleted.

Birth certificates, driver's license, voter's registration.

That's all gone unless there are physical copies stuffed in filing cabinets somewhere.

I also can't bridge the gap between the last captures of her and the point where we realized she was missing.

But with the assistance of Soren, I was able to upload her likeness.

Whenever a hit does occur, we will at least know. We just have to wait.

In the meanwhile, I'm content to eliminate as much of Vin's existence from this home as possible. Something has been bothering me, though. The locked-up attic. After witnessing what was beneath the bar, I can't imagine what sort of horrors are in there, but I need to know.

I pull the string for the cased ladder and step aside as it unfolds, giving me access to the attic with it’s locked door. One wall of the garage is covered with a peg board and tools, and I go for the hammer until I realize the bolt cutters at the end. Those will do nicely.

I suppose I could have asked her if she knew what was up here, or if she had the key. But something tells me that's laughable. Of course she doesn't know. If I had to bet, the lock on the door was put there to keep her out. Who else would it have been for?