Page 85 of Vengeful Vows

He’s no longer behind the wheel of my main town car because I removed him from my security detail the afternoon he drove me home from this exact location. His contract now only has one objective—protect Mara and Tillie at all costs—so I’m somewhat curious as to why he’s left his post today.

He deemed the rear entry point of Mara’s building as the highest threat, so he shouldn’t be manning an area monitored by employees of his security firm. His priority is Mara’s safety, which can only mean one thing.

He is here in regard to something that affects her.

After slipping through the door Darius is holding open for me, I twist to face Rafael. His cheeks are gaunt, his lips are cracked, and he looks like he hasn’t slept.

Something is very wrong with this picture. Although it feels similar to the tornado we instigated when Rafael falsified claims of sexual abuse against my stepfather, the tension this time feels capable of swallowing me whole.

“What’s going on? I thought you said Paarth handed himself in.”

“He did,” Rafael answers. “This isn’t about him.”

My eyes bounce between Rafael and Darius when Darius joins us inside the unmanned car. The driver has been removed to ensure privacy, and the knowledge roils my stomach.

“Who is it about, then?” I ask Rafael, conscious his fists don’t ball unless he’s already fighting.

A rock lands in my stomach with a splash when Rafael signals for Darius to hand me a single photograph. It boils myveins more ruefully than the oil-ladened bathwater that melted my skin off my back and stole my hearing, and it has me ready to go to war.

“Where did you get this?”

Dr. Babkin doesn’t look close to the evilly unethical pedophile I was picturing him as. He was an average-looking schmuck who most likely donated to charities once yearly to lower his tax bill and drove an eco-friendly car.

The only thing that gives away his evil insides is the person he is pictured with. She is young, too young, and her age in the image exposes that her daughter took her genes more than her abuser’s.

“Wherethe fuckdid you get this?” I ask again, my temper too obliterated to speak cordially.

Rafael works his jaw side to side before answering my question. “It isn’t where we got it from you should be worried about. It iswhogave it to us you need to pay the most attention to.”

36

MARA

“They look amazing. You’ve done such a great job.”

I don’t hide the pride beaming out of me for the umpteenth time today when Tillie tilts her head to critique her cookie decorating skills. She is her own worst critic. “They’re not quiteMasterChefworthy, but I think he will still like them.”

“He?” I query, acting daft.

She hits me with a look that says more than it should before she digs an air-tight container out of the back of the pantry to store her creations. “I just hope he comes back before they go stale.”

“I’m sure he will.” I’ve never sounded more confident. It replicates how I feel.

Ark and I sailed over a lot of bumps during our record-breaking and extremely healing twenty-four-hour reprieve from the world, but the look Ark hit me with when he hinted at marriage for the third time has me confident he will return sooner rather than later.

Tillie stops loading her cookies into the container as her eyes light up. “Maybe you should take them to him so he can taste them while they’re super fresh.”

Stealing my chance to reply, she races into the entryway to fetch my tattered jacket before she assists me with placing it on.

I love her enthusiasm, but it doesn’t alter the facts. “I can’t go now. It’s almost dinnertime, and I promised Ark we would be waiting here for him when he returns.”

“But Mrs. Lichard invited me over for a roast.” Before I can portray my excitement of sampling one of Mrs. Lichard’s famous baked dinners, Tillie adds, “She only has enough food for two people.”

“Oh.”

I grow worried about how thin the walls of our apartment are, my stomach roiling for a completely different reason than disappointment, when she says, “So there’s no reason you can’t deliver Ark his cookies now. I’m sure he’d love a sugary dessert after his supper.”

Ark and I ate our dessert without spoons, and our bodies were the bowls.

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