Page 105 of My Solemn Vow
Ian puts his hand over his mouth as if to silence himself, but Valor is already shaking his head. He looks at me directly, readying to reveal the information apparently not originally intended for me. “I had Royal do some digging into Marc’s previous exploits. Because I wanted to be sure it was taken care of. That there wasn’t...”
“There wasn’t anyone out there actively jerking off to his new wife’s teenage image and being all pervy.” Royal gets up from the table and heads to the kitchen. “I did find the footage and was able to scrub it off the ancient net, without watching it, to be clear. I did some digging through the —” Royal cuts himself off while mixing a drink. When he’s stirring the ingredients together, he starts again. “Doesn’t matter. I found thepeople it was shared with. If they have a local copy, it would be the only way that it could ever see the light of day again.”
I look at the three of them, wishing I had something to do to distract myself from my discomfort of them all knowing what happened to me.At least Royal didn’t watch it.
Valor brings his arm around my shoulders and gives me a reassuring squeeze as he watches his father, and in the more masculine version of Kerrianne’s sass, he defends himself. “I’m not implying that we go and kill them all.”
“No, he’s suggesting some good old-fashioned breaking and entering and arson,” Royal speaks loudly from where he’s at in the kitchen.
“It’s unfortunate you don’t have an arsonist.” The men around me go still, and I catch a side-eyed glance from Ian. “What? I can’t learn things? I accidentally burn soup and make a joke about burning the house down, and Valor explained maybe I should take up arson as a skill set.”
“I mean, it would be unexpected. She’d be suspected much more forwardly if it was poison.” Ian nods and then runs his hand back through his salt-and-pepper hair, much like Valor does. “And no, there is nothing wrong with you learning our business. Betty has missed Kerrianne and is soaking up all the grandma time, or she’d be out here too.”
It’s foreign being wanted at the table.
Royal comes back to sit with a drink in his hand.
“I’ve thought of the possibilities of what a failed hunt would mean.” Valor brings his hand to my thigh like he did earlier and runs gentle circles with his thumb again.
Is he soothing me or himself?It doesn’t matter either way.
“It would feel less suspicious if there were a bunch of burgs with multiple methods rather than burning families’ homes to the ground.” Valor shrugs and looks over at me, and mischief lights up his features with a half smile and a glint in his eyes.
He would. He’d burn them all to the ground if he thought he could get away with it.I shouldn’t be turned on by that.
“Good.” Ian nods in approval.
It’s impossible not to note how relaxed and carefree he seems with talks of business. The lack of formality is less stressful than anticipated, but not a lack of formality in that it doesn’t matter, only that it doesn’t need to be life or death.
“And the drive-by?” Valor looks at his father with the same indignation I’ve afforded Gregorio before. “I don’t like that we’re implicating Antonella in that attack.”
Okay, we’ll talk about this with me at the table.I keep my head down and pretend to be fascinated by the pattern in the table runner.What happens if there’s a disagreement?God, I’ve never even considered this. Flashes of a body torn apart by what we thought were a thousand stabbings could have been a wolf attack.Is that what could happen to me?
“Antonella.” Ian draws my attention back to him. “Whatever you’re worried about, I wouldn’t. Neil is so certain it’s you and Berto working together, but I cannot rectify why he is so sure given the lack of evidence.”
Royal gets out of his chair and heads over to the fridge. He opens the door, and I hear the rattle of aluminum foil before he sets a container on the counter.
“Dude, are you growing again?” Valor watches over my head as I hear food storage containers opening.
“Well, for all the times you called me your little brother, I decided to grow.” Royal microwaves his food but comes to stand at the table and talk to us while it ticks by. “For what it’s worth, I checked. There is no way Antonella has another phone or is using her phone, watch, email at work, personal email, or anything to communicate with Berto. So, unless she’s outfoxing Jack and Declan to see him in person and making her devices somehow follow her regular paths of movement without her... it’s unlikely.”
“Still in the room.” I look up at Ian before looking up at Royal. “As much as I like that you’re implying I’m that tech savvy, I am sadly not.”
“Well, if you hadn’t already decided to specialize in starting fires, I could use a hand, but fire and computers aren’t friends.” Royal pats my shoulder and goes back to the kitchen, stopping the microwave early.
Royal vouching for me is unexpected. It eases my fear that they’re really considering me as some sort of spy. It’s one thing to have Valor more certain of me being loyal to them. But the approval from his family lets me slouch slightly into my chair.
“I wouldn’t put it past the client, however, to do this in order to get a better deal on something.” Ian drums his fingers on the table. “What did he want for the cleanup?”
“A couple of tanked-out SUVs, two of Royal’s custom M-9s, and my contact to get his kid into Kerrianne’s old school in River North.” Valor scrubs his hand down his face. “If he’s having money problems or security problems it makes sense. We all know the lengths I’d go to get Kerrianne the best things in life.”
“Would explain the smaller purchases.” Ian considers it and furrows his eyebrows. “Who else do they do business with?”
“No idea, they’re newer players on the scene, coming up here from the Bible Belt for their guns because they don’t want to seem weak in the new area. They took international shipments before Doyle kicked them to us.” Valor draws a sip of his drink.
But the soothing circles of his thumb have turned into broader passes of his hand, pushing my skirt between my legs and slowly stroking my inner thigh through the fabric.
“Who is it?” I try to be helpful and distract myself from the heat and needy throbs in my pelvis.
