Page 42 of Vow of Vengeance (Destruction & Vengeance Duet #2)

thirty-three

Declan

"Faster!" I growl, jamming the barrel of the gun against Tony's skull as I watch the speedometer climb too slowly.

"If we get pulled over, how are you gonna explain this to the police?"

"You've never worried about the police before." I challenge. "Don't start now. Go faster."

He cuts a glare at me from the corner of his eye and then presses down on the gas, accelerating to eighty-three. I give the gun a little shake, and he growls before bringing us up to eighty-eight.

"What makes you think Vin's alive, anyway?" He asks. "I saw him dead."

"Did you see his body go in the fucking ground?"

Tony snorts. "We cremated him."

"Odd choice for a murder victim," I say coldly. "So, you never saw his body?"

"Sure, I did." Tony shrugs. "I saw him bleeding all over his floor. I saw them take his body away."

"Well, he's not dead, so whatever you think you saw, you didn't."

Tony chuckles, like there's anything funny about the situation. Maybe driving with a gun to his head is the most fun he's had in a while.

"What makes you think he's alive?"

"Who else would take her if it wasn't you?" I challenge, watching his face carefully as he whips the wheel to avoid colliding with the car in front of us. He curses under his breath and presses the gas a little harder, raising our speed as the car behind us slams on its horn.

"That friend of hers is awful fucking shifty. You check with him?"

That friend of hers.

"Khan's dead." I say dispassionately. "What do you know about him being shifty?"

Tony laughs, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand before returning it to the wheel. "He's a sick little fuck."

"And you're not?" I laugh.

"Not like him."

We're all sick little fucks in our own way, but the three of them? They're incomprehensible.

I don't care for him to elaborate, and I'm not trying to make small talk, but I want Tony to know Khan is dead, that I won't stop there. If there's a chance Tony is on those videos with my girl, I'll kill him too.

"What makes you different?"

Tony glares at me, flipping his blinker this time before cutting off an SUV, which abruptly slams on the brakes to avoid colliding with the back of our car.

"Me? I'm a businessman, not a creep."

"Not a sadist?" I clarify.

His eyes narrow on the road ahead, but he doesn't react, doesn't answer me.

"I enjoy pussy as much as the next guy, but I don't make it my only purpose in life.

That curly-headed fuck seemed to obsess over it whenever we were with him.

.. obsess over theirs . I'll admit, the thought of the two of 'em together, playing with each other's pussies.

.. yeah, well, can't help but find that hot. "

I clench my jaw and hold my disgust at the idea of what he's suggesting... my little bird, touching anyone else, of anyone else touching her, let alone her best fucking friend. They're like sisters.

"You know what he did to them?"

It's not a question I expect an answer to, but the smirk on his mouth tells me all I need to know. "Like I said... he was obsessed."

It's not lost on me that he hasn't asked how I know Khan is dead, that he doesn't seem surprised. "You knew where Marissa was all that time?"

"Not knew." He shrugs one shoulder. "I suspected. They came to the bar one day while you were off fucking your little slut in a foreign country, and the way he was with her... I could tell he wasn't going to be able to hold off much longer."

"And with Vincent dead, he couldn't continue to get his fill with Soren. Right?"

Tony chuckles, and if I didn't need him, I'd fire three bullets into his head right now. But he's my best chance at finding Soren's dead husband... which means he's my best chance at finding Soren.

"Right."

"But you're just a businessman," I say coldly. "Were you in on it with your nephew? You made her your victim, drugged her so she couldn't fight back or guess what you were doing while you stood by and took money from sick bastards who paid to rape an unconscious woman?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Tony shrugs again. "But say I did. Say my nephew owed some men some money, and he had no choice but to pay it back with interest... interest he couldn't afford."

"So you let it happen. Did you participate?"

"Did I pay my own nephew to let me fuck his wife?

" Tony laughs so loud I want to gouge out my own eardrums. "No, Evers.

I'm not that hard up for pussy. Especially for one that wasn't even that great.

.." He catches my gaze on him and waits a second before cracking a grin.

"I mean, I imagine it can't be. Not with as many dicks as she's taken.

And with your tiny dick... is it like fingering a hollowed out watermelon when you fuck her? "

That gets a laugh out of me, because it's another type of stupid from his usual to try and antagonize the man holding a gun to your head. He's resorted to childish insults, comparing dick sizes to try and get under my skin.

"So, you never fucked my girl, right Tony? I don't have to put a bullet in your cock next, do I?"

"You need me alive." Tony smirks, far too smug for my liking. "If Vin is alive like you seem to think, I'm the only one who can get through to him."

"You're right." I agree, dropping the gun into my lap. I don't move my finger off the trigger, even though he's right. I need him alive. I just don't need him unharmed.

The motel parking lot Tony turns into looks abandoned. The sign isn't lit up, and the old-fashioned letters that are meant to spell out messages are all missing, leaving an empty space beneath the name: The foxhole.

Charming.

He parks the car and rolls his eyes at me when I throw my door open, coming round to greet him with the gun still trained at his head.

"Which one?"

"Who knows?" Tony shrugs. "Could be any of 'em."

"Go in and ask the staff."

"Staff?" Tony laughs. "There's only Russell, and he's..."

He cuts off abruptly and shakes his head. "Never mind. I know how to find out which room."

I follow him to the small shack in the center of the rooms, all of which are connected by a metal awning.

There can't be more than twenty rooms in total, and I want so badly to just start beating down the doors.

But I can't take the chance of Vin getting away out a window or adjoining room if he hears us coming.

And more than that, I can't take the chance of him killing her if he knows I'm coming for her.

A bell chimes overhead as Tony shoves through the door, letting us into a small lobby with plastic chairs and cracked linoleum. There's no one at the desk, so no one stops Tony as he struts behind it, turning into a room that he has to turn sideways to fit into.

I follow him into the space and see the security monitors lit up in a grid on the wall. There are nine of them in total, three rows of three, each one showing a separate image... the parking lot, the hall, the hall on the other side, a pool that looks black, us.

I don't see anyone on any of the monitors, other than the one that shows our own reflection. I watch as Tony fiddles with something on the center screen, and the image begins to shift.

The screen flashes between images of empty rooms that could be stills taken for the travel sites. Except, the photos are all taken from above the bed, in a bird's eye view.

Sick fucking sons of bitches. It's disgusting, not just because I know what they were using this place for. But how many innocent couples came to stay here out of desperation and were spied on while some bastard back here beat their dick to it?

As disgusted as I am, it disappears the minute I see the body on the bed, naked and spread-eagled, bound with restraints that must be beneath the mattress. My disgust fades, because suddenly I can't feel anything but fury.

Anger.

Violence .

"Room seventeen," Tony says, squinting at the screen like he's trying to get a better view. I'm about to pistol whip him for that alone when he cocks his head. "Son of a bitch."

"Where are the keys?"

"They've got the key. The room's in use." He gestures to the screen, to...

I rip open the desk drawer and turn it out over the desktop, looking for a set of master keys, a ring that has all of them. There's nothing but photographs, stills from videos, lube and used tissues, candy wrappers...

I turn, scanning the room for the rest of the keys, and find them hanging from small hooks on the wall. My eyes track down the rows, looking for the one with the seventeen attached. There's nothing but an empty space between the key for room sixteen and eighteen.

I spin quickly, cocking the gun again against Tony's skull. "Go get your fucking nephew to open that door."

Tony chuckles softly. "If that really is him in there, he ain't gonna open the door for me."

I stare at him, the adrenaline in my veins burning too out of control to understand his subtext. "Go fucking try."

"I'm telling you, Vin would open the door for you before he'd do it for me.

I'm the one that killed him..." He turns his gaze back to the monitor, but I don't dare fucking look.

I'm holding onto the last thread of my sanity, and Tony's half a second from me redecorating this office with his brain matter.

My gaze lights on the fire alarm, the axe next to it.

"Grab the axe." I tell him, gesturing with the barrel to the axe behind the glass. It's all I've got, and I'm not letting Tony walk away, so he's gonna have to do it.

He glares at me before rolling his eyes and crossing to the fire alarm. His hands search for some kind of latch to open the case.

"Break the glass," I growl, my frustration tipping over as I imagine what hell my wife is suffering. What hell she may have already suffered. I couldn't even tell in the video if she's alive, but my mind won't let me entertain the possibility she’s not.