Page 3 of Deceptive Vows
“Is she okay?”
I heaved a sigh. “Yeah, I think she’ll be fine.”
“All right, give ’em five.”
“Okay, I’m calling 911.”
I ended the call just as the bar door clicked shut. No surprise there. If he were into anything like me and my family, he didn’t want or need anyone getting curious about him, especially the cops.
He was almost intriguing enough to follow back into the bar. Almost. Most predators around here wore their violence on the surface—loud, deliberate, meant to scare. Butnot him. His kind of violence was quiet. Controlled. The kind you never saw coming, until it was too late.
Like me.
I brushed the thought away as quickly as it came. Most men thought they could claim more than I was willing to give. At least Remy understood. That tryst had been fun and fleeting. No complications. No expectations. The kind I most enjoyed.
By the time the ambulance arrived, I was long gone.
I followed up later. Rina would be okay. It’d be a lie to say I had hope she’d wake up after this and do something to make a change, but I’d watched too many women continue down the same path to think she’d be any different.
My baby brother, Lex, texted that he’d handle the cleanup personally. I found him not far from Dead Shift, looking more tired than usual.
“Did you have any trouble?” I fell into step beside him. Normally, I’d do a follow-up with Dimi, but Lex had seemed…moody lately. The usual spark in his eyes had dimmed.
He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Nah.”
We walked in silence a couple of blocks. I didn’t mind the walk. I loved walking in the city,especially when the sun was just breaking over the skyline. Slipping my arm through his, I glanced at him, and it hit me. The slumped shoulders, the tight jaw.
“When did she break up with you?”
He jerked his attention to me. “What? She—” His chest expanded as he took a deep breath. “The night we took care of Benoit.”
How had I missed that? I didn’t miss things. “I’ll kill her.”
Lex exhaled through his nose. "Don’t. I don’t want that.”
"She wasn’t good enough for you anyway.” I kicked at a stray bottle cap, and it skittered into the gutter. “Benoit was a stain on this city. We bleached him. She should’ve been cheering.”
“Should she?” he muttered. “Franklin deserved it. I don’t regret it. But she wanted a normal life. A normal guy. Not this.”
“This” was unspoken but understood.
Death. Murder. Power plays and secrets.
“She wanted to pretend the ugliness didn’t exist. I can’t fault her for that,” he said. “Sometimes I wish it didn’t either.”
My head against his shoulder, we walked silently again while Idigested his words.
Killing never stole anything from me. Not guilt. Not grief. Not even sleep. I’d made my first kill at sixteen—I’d felt nothing but satisfaction watching the light leave his eyes.
Maybe that said more about me than I liked to admit.
I grew up in alleyways like the one we were passing. Spent more nights hungry than full. Watched men spit on my mother. Use her. Abuse her. Watched other girls disappear and never come back. Beauty lived in windows I couldn’t afford to look through.
Until Lucas rescued me and Ma and Pa took me in, I’d been one of those alley rats.
At times, I still felt that way—that slimy coating of never being as good as everyone else.
“Mom!” Lucas called from the front door. “Mom! I found a girl!”
