Page 30 of Vow of Vengeance (Destruction & Vengeance Duet #2)

twenty-five

Soren

I'm curled against Declan on the couch, nearly asleep, when the doorbell rings. Roxy jumps, clearly pulled from sleep too, and cocks her head to one side as she looks at me, confused.

"Were you expecting someone?"

"I wasn't." Declan shakes his head, moving out from beneath me. "Stay here."

He doesn't have to ask me twice. Or Roxy, apparently.

She lays her head back down on her paws but watches as Declan strides to the door.

He stops at the entryway table, opens the drawer, and grabs something from inside.

I realize what it is when he opens the chamber to check that it's loaded and then clicks it in place.

"Declan!" I hiss.

The fact that he has a fucking gun right in his entryway table is new to me. I knew he was entwined in a dangerous world, but I didn't think he owned a gun, let alone kept it so close by.

Has he ever used it? I wonder.

I also wonder if I'm about to witness a murder.

He looks through the peephole, chuckles, and then rests his head against the door for just a second. I mean to ask him what the hell he's doing, but he takes a step back and opens the door before I can bother asking.

The man standing there grins like he's looking at an old friend. His dark hair hangs in his face, but what I can see of it is objectively good-looking. But my attention slips right past him to the girl at his side.

If he's objectively good-looking, she's gorgeous. And I assume she knows it, because that isn't the sort of outfit you wear if you're not confident enough to pull it off. Her red leather skirt stops a few inches above her knees, and a slit in it teases her powerful-looking thighs.

"The fuck are you doing here?" Declan asks, moving to stand in the door. I don't know if he's trying to block me from seeing them or them from seeing me.

"You needed my help. Here I am." The man shrugs. "This is my wife. Violet, this is the one you've heard so much about."

"Declan, right?" She smiles. "You were going to help find my sister for us last year. Thank you for that."

I blink, wondering who her sister is and why Declan never mentioned it.

"And he found you last month when you tried to go on a suicide mission with my stupid ass sister." The man rolls his eyes, but I see the way he glances at her affectionately.

"No thank you for that one." Violet says.

"You have a sister?" Declan asks, surprised. It seems to take him another moment to put two and two together.

"Half-sister. She's a nightmare, honestly. Always getting up to something and dragging my wife into it."

"Rhea Boudreaux?”

The name is familiar, but it takes me a moment to recall hearing it on our trip to Costa Rica.

Rhea was the one Declan had to search for, the one who Declan had to write back into the system.

He'd been able to do it so quickly when we were there.

Why has it taken so long to do the same thing for Marissa?

“That's your half-sister?"

"Yep. I'm surrounded by psychotic women." He winks at his wife, whose lip quirks into a little smirk. She doesn't bother denying his accusation. She seems mild to me, but if she's crazy, she puts the hot in psychotic. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so inferior as I do in Violet’s presence.

It isn't lost on me that I'm sitting on the couch in pajama shorts and one of Declan's shirts.

Just because I have my own clothes again doesn't mean I want to wear them rather than his stuff.

Maybe it's because it's pricey or maybe it's because it's his, but his clothes feel like being wrapped in silk.

It's luxurious but compared to Wes' wife with her perfect blond curls streaked with purple highlights dressed like a rockstar, I feel like a bum.

"Invite your friends in, Declan." I chide, standing. Roxy jumps from the couch and looks up at me expectantly, so I stoop to pick her up. "I'm just going to go change."

I make quick work of dressing in something more suitable for guests, even though it means putting on a bra.

My whole body still hurts a bit from falling through a fucking wall, but I escaped mostly unscathed. Normally I bruise like a damn peach and can never remember where a specific mark came from. I'm grateful that I have one less reminder of my gracelessness.

The bandage on my hand is enough of that.

Declan worked on getting me discharged overnight so that when I woke up, we were ready to go home.

All the tests they ran came back fine, which served to prove the fall was brought on by nothing more than my own clumsiness.

We’ve been taking it easy; he spent hours bent over his laptop today, and I finally had to beg him to come watch a movie with me because the boredom has been stifling.

When I emerge into the living room, I see Declan allowed our guests inside, finally.

"Are you hungry?" Violet asks when she spots me, as if she's not the guest here. I should probably have asked that.

"Umm, a little. Are... you hungry?"

"A little." She shrugs. "I'm going to make lasagna. Sound good?"

"Lasagna?" I chance a glance at Declan, confused and a little overwhelmed as Violet struts into the kitchen and sweeps her hair into a ponytail. He only shrugs, like he's just as mystified as I am.

"Violet's good in the kitchen.” Wes grins proudly. “Better in bed."

My cheeks heat at the forwardness of the claim and I turn my back to hide them, following his wife into the kitchen instead.

I was a shitty cook even when I was a housewife, and I haven't tried to pick it up since moving in with Declan. He's been content to pay people to cook for us and to clean, too. They're like ninjas, coming in and moving silently about so that half the time I don't even know they were here.

Roxy squirms in my hold as Violet moves about the kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers as she assembles everything she needs.

I'm amazed Declan just has all the ingredients to make a proper meal already in his kitchen.

I assume that's another thing the staff takes care of.

He really needs to pay them better. I don't know what he offers them, but it could be higher, I'm sure.

Declan and Violet's husband move into the kitchen with us, and Declan takes the opportunity to introduce us, properly.

"Soren, this is my friend Wes and his wife, Violet. Wes, this is my wife Soren."

I freeze at the pronoun he used to introduce me, my eyes darting toward him seeking an explanation. "It's close enough, Ren." He assures me.

I've refused to let him call me his fiancé, refused to accept a ring or give him a definitive answer. I know it's silly, but I simply can't wrap my brain around the idea of doing any of that when I can't tell Marissa about it. But hearing him call me his wife? Yeah, that does something to me.

"It's lovely to meet you," Violet says softly, fixing me with a smile.

It's the first time I've had a chance to look at her dead-on, and my heart falters when I realize what I hadn't before.

The scars on her face.

They're faint, and they do nothing to detract from her beauty. But they're there, and they indicate something... cruel.

I don't have a chance to ruminate on them because she turns and Wes fixes me with his attention.

"This is the reason you bought a newspaper in a digital age?" Wes smirks. "Well, now I get it. She's cute and she's ballsy enough to call you out in print?" He shakes his head, not trying to deny the smirk on his lips when he leans in a little closer. "Badass bitch you are, Soren Palmer."

I laugh, because I don't feel like a badass bitch. But I appreciate the compliment all the same.

"Take two steps away from my wife before I shoot you." Declan says coolly, drawing my attention back to him, where he's still standing with the gun in hand.

"Oh my god, Declan. Put that thing away!"

Wes only laughs, taking a step away from me and raising his hands like he's trying to show he has no intention of touching me.

"Sorry for intruding, by the way." Wes says, apparently to me. "I needed some help, and Dec here has been dodging my calls."

I can't even begin to unpack everything in that sentence. "You need his help?"

I thought Wes said Declan needed his help. But maybe that's just the lingering effects of the exhaustion I can't seem to shake.

"Yeah, business stuff." Wes shrugs. "Important enough it couldn't wait. And I thought it would be nice for you to meet Violet. She's mad at me, so I couldn't exactly leave her home alone. You get that, right?"

"Sure?" I laugh, because they're strangely overwhelming. And also, strangely charming.

"Thanks, doll. I need to borrow your husband for a couple hours. You can keep my wife as a show of good faith. You know, collateral so you can be sure I'll bring him back in one piece?"

My jaw drops open when I turn to Declan, but he's laughing easily enough to calm me. Despite his attempts to stay stony and cold, I can sense that Wes is turning on the ‘good old friend’ charm, and it seems to be working. Honestly, I’m relieved at the thought of him getting Declan out of my hair a while.

I love him, but if he doesn’t stop jumping every time I move and scrambling to offer me things, I’m going to go insane.

A damn nail through the hand, and he's been treating me like an invalid since we left the hospital.

"What did you say you're doing again?"

"Coding." Declan shrugs. "Idiot here needs me to patch a leak for him in his security mainframe. I'll have to go to his satellite office to do it, though. It may take a few hours."

"Okay." I nod slowly, turning my gaze to Violet as she brandishes a knife from the cutting block and takes a moment to admire the sharp point of it.

Declan and I exchange a slow glance, but he offers me a reassuring nod as Wes walks around to wrap his wife in his arms. I take the opportunity to pull Declan close.

"You trust these people?"

I'm not sure why Violet would pose any threat to me. She doesn't make me uneasy, but Wes' claim that she's a psycho combined with how lovingly she looked at that blade just now, I do have to wonder whether she won't try to turn me into the meal when they leave.

"Yes." Declan nods. "Because Wes is smart enough not to cross me. And his wife..." He hesitates, glancing over my shoulder. "I think she looks like she needs a friend."

As long as she doesn't plan on pulling out my organs and packing me with newspaper, I suppose I can do that.

I'm not sure I even remember how to be a friend. I've been a shitty one since I lost the baby and Vin all at once, and an even shittier one since I've been consumed with Declan. I was so bad at it that I didn't even realize my best friend was missing until it was too late.

"And I'm leaving this with you." He pulls away to hand me the gun.

Up close, it's not as sleek as it looks. It's more of a matte black, with little ridges on the handle that he's holding out for me. I take an immediate step back. "I don't want that."

"Just in case." He says calmly. "Tony's still been quiet. I don't like leaving you, but you need to rest, and I need to do this."

I swallow, glancing from his face to the gun he holds in his hand, fingers wrapped around the barrel.

"Take it." He says, "And I'll show you how to use it."

My hands shake, but I take it anyway.

This feels surreal.

He adjusts my grip on the gun, taps the back of my elbow to make my arm straighten up, and then slips behind me. I'm keenly aware of his presence, his slow breaths on the back of my neck sending a chill down my spine.

"This is the safety. It stays on at all times, unless there's an active threat. Got it?"

I nod, unable to find my voice to say okay. His hand covers mine before guiding my finger to the trigger.

"The trigger. You don't put your finger on it unless you're going to shoot. And you don't shoot unless you plan to kill."

I open my mouth to tell him I never plan to kill, but he cuts me off with a gentle kiss on the side of my neck.

"You shoot to kill if anyone threatens you... ever." He presses another kiss lower. "I don't care who it is. Your friends, mine." Another kiss. "If they try to hurt you, you fucking shoot. No questions asked."

I can hardly think straight with his kisses wrapping behind my neck, but he stops on the back of my spine. My eyes flutter and a small moan slips past my lips.

Declan stops and spins back in front of me; before I can even think of something to say, he grips my jaw.

His fingers angle me so that he can kiss me hard, and he practically fucking devours me.

It's too much, and yet too good to pull away.

He's the one who breaks the kiss, popping one last small one on my lips before stepping away as if he'll never be able to leave if he doesn't put some space between us immediately.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice we have an audience.

"Hot." Violet says simply, nipping at her bottom lip and fanning herself dramatically.

That makes me laugh, thawing the discomfort and awkwardness of knowing they saw something so intimate.

"Don't get any ideas about touching my wife." Declan warns her.

Violet only laughs, unbothered by the insinuation that she would do anything. "I'll be on my best behavior." She winks at him, and I wonder if I should feel as slippery as I do right now.

"Well, I won't make you promise that." Wes shrugs at me. "You can do whatever you want to my wife."

"Wes," Violet chides, though there’s a lilt of humor to her voice. "Leave the poor girl alone."

Wes only chuckles, turning his gaze back to me. "It's all in good fun. But if you don't want her to try and seduce you, I suggest you keep her mouth busy... eating, talking…” The pause is full of the innuendo he doesn’t say. “Whatever works."

Oh my god.

I don't know what is even happening, but his implications are making me insanely warm. And I don't hate it.

"I'll make this as fast as possible." Declan promises. "Just stay in. Don't go anywhere, okay?"

I don't know where I'd go even if I did have plans of leaving, but I definitely don't. I'm going to stay right here and try to ignore the fire that Declan built with his kisses and Wes stoked with his words.

And when Declan gets back, I'll have him fuck every filthy thought out of my head.