Page 54 of Vendetta

Is that a trick question? How about to get the fuck out of here before they take me? “I’m fine. Are you sure everything's okay?” I ask, trying my best to keep my voice even.

“Like I said, just some business I need to take care of, don’t worry about it,” he says softly, his gaze roaming my face. He has the decency to break eye contact when I keep staring up at him, looking him in the eye as he lies to my face.

“Okay,” I say, dragging out the word. Letting him know that I know he’s not being honest. He looks relieved that I’m not calling him out on it. We’re playing this stupid game where we both know everything isn’t right, but we're pretending otherwise.

“Get some rest,” he says quietly, his eyes softening as he watches me fidget with the sleeve of my sweater. Another quick kiss, and then he’s gone.

I start pacing as soon as I hear the door lock. I can feel myself start to panic, the adrenaline hitting me. I grab the closest object, the cereal bowl, and throw it at the door. The plastic bounces pathetically off the wooden door, and then falls to the floor.

I run to the bathroom and lock the door in case he comes back. My shaky hands take the gun out from his jacket. I'm not good with cold weapons, but I can shoot a gun. Thank God it was the one thing my father insisted on.

I weigh it in my hand, and then release the magazine. Three bullets. That's all I have. I click it back in and put it in the jacket pocket where I found it. I bring my hand up to wipe away the angry tear sliding down my cheek.

He's just going to let them take me away, like I don't matter at all.

Sliding down the tiled wall, I break out in silent sobs. It's true what they say about a thin line between love and hate. I fucking hate Devon Andre. He's brought nothing,nothing, but pain to me. His silence hurt me, his every touch scarred my skin, and I still held onto him and hoped that he'd realize some things are to be put above everything else.Loveshould matter.

But his love is poison, the kind that breaks you and makes you wish you were dead, if it only meant he was happy. I was ready to die at his hands because of that love.

This is it, I think, finally coming to terms with what I'll have to do.The end of the fucking road.

I’m going to have to try and save my damn self.

14

DEVON

If I could pick one day to last twenty-five hours, this would be it. I'm in the car, driving aimlessly, trying to figure out what to do. I have some money stashed in Baroque, mostly racket—which is shit these days. Still, it should be enough for what I need.

Parking in front of the club, I pull out my cell phone. Shit, I'll probably need a new one. First I check in with Hayley, letting her know she doesn’t have to come in today. She doesn’t like it and starts giving me a lecture, but I finish the conversation fast and hang up, realizing that might have been the last time I talk to her. I dial Colin's number next and set up a meeting in an hour, telling him I have a job for him. Satisfied when he agrees to meet me, I hang up and get inside Baroque.

They don't expect me, of course, since I'm never here during the day, and I get curious looks all around as I walk the long distance from the entrance door to the dark hallway leading to the back office. I have to cross the saloon and then another room—the girls' room—and then, at the very back, is the main office.

Just act normal. I repeat this mantra in my head. How do I act when I'm normal? Without a word, or a nod of a head, I walk past everyone. A flash of dark curls catches my eye. Soraya. She sees me and gives me a shiny smile, heading toward me. I'd rather have avoided her, but I can't just run now.

“Devon Andre,” she says, reaching me. She's wearing a red dress, elegant, but revealing, with just a little cleavage, to get you to ask yourself what's underneath—the way we require them to dress for this place, day or night. She puts her small hand on my forearm, squeezing it lightly and giving me a flirty smile. It’s barely noon, so there aren’t many people in here, but all eyes are on us, taking this exchange in curiously. I smile back at Soraya, deciding to play this in my favor.

Placing my hand at the small of her back, I lead her toward the office, then let it slide down, cupping her ass. She gives me a questioning look, and starts to pull away. I lean in, pushing her further toward the office door, and whisper in her ear, “Follow my lead and you'll never have to sleep with old men for money again.”

We make eye contact, and she gives me an imperceptible nod. Her demeanor completely changes, and she laughs timidly, but loud enough for at least those nearby to hear, leaning back into my hand and letting me grab her ass.

I don't think there's any doubt as to what we'll be doing in my office at this point, especially after I lock the door after entering.

“What's—”

I put my hand over her mouth to shut her up. The whole place is wired, even this office where our business associates sometimes have meetings between themselves. The material we collect we use for extortion and blackmail. Stevie's idea.

I shush her with my finger, then wait for her to nod so I know she understands, and let her go.

“Do you want something to drink?” I ask her, pointing with my finger at the whiskey bottle on the table.

She nods. I shake my head at her, motioning with my hand for her to speak instead.

“That whiskey looks good. We need to loosen you up a bit,” she says, her voice turning flirtatious.

I pour a full glass of whiskey.

“Off with the clothes, I just have to do something,” I say, shaking my head to let her know she doesn't have to do it.

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