Page 84 of My Solemn Vow
His muscles flex beneath his shirt as he crosses his arms, and I go back to work. If he wants to play it cool, then we’ll play it cool.
I finish deboning the chicken and toss the bones in water to boil with a bundle of fresh herbs and salt. After washing my hands, I turn back to him.
“Okay, you’re doing the ‘wait in silence’ bit to see what I have to say, but the answer is I don’t have anything to say. You don’t think I did it. I don’t know who would have said I did it.And most importantly, I didn’t do it.” The accusation stings, sending violent pins and needles into my heart. I finish a slow exhale, then press the rest of the air out through my nose, trying to expel the hurt and rage before drawing a shallow breath. “To be clear,itis telling someone that you were coming to pick up your daughter at the school.”
Valor cocks his head.
But now that the fury in my words has started coming out, I can’t make them stop or hold them back. I raise a stern finger. “And furthermore, I love Kerrianne so much, and I don’t think hurting you would be in her best interest. I don’t think putting her in a position where she could be hurt is in her best interest. So, what motive could I possibly have at this point to get you shot at?”
He nods once and uncrosses his arms, resting his palms on the counter behind him. The muscles in his forearms flex with the movement, drawing my eyes — and the heat from my heart admittedly lower.
Could he stop being so fuckin’ sexy? It would make it easier to be offended by this.I push the memories of us together out of my mind.Offended. Not Horny. Offended. Not Horny.
I cross back to the chicken on the counter and start cubing it.
“You love her?” Valor’s voice is low and scratchy.
“Of course I do. What’s not to love?” I don’t bother looking at him because I don’t care if he’s offended by my feelings for his daughter.
And after torturing Marc in the basement, I think I could love you too.I keep that to myself. It’s too soon for that.
Valor had called what he felt for me falling into lust. Maybe I’d believe that except aside from accidental touches and maybe all of three intentional ones... and the kiss to my forehead after killing Marc... he’s made no move for anything more. I sleep in his bed, and maybe it’s for appearances for whoever cleans thedamn house, but that doesn’t mean I can’t or won’t develop feelings.
“You’re not her mother,” Valor deadpans.
“I never said I was.”This man is so infuriating.
Rather than let myself get angry with him, I slide the knife through the chicken with precision. Valor keeps his knives sharp. After seeing his murder basement, it makes sense that he wouldn’t stand for dull kitchen knives.
“I said I love her. I don’t try to mother her or step in where it’s not my place. Today...” I think back to the haunting color of Kerrianne’s eyes, something not being right there. “I knew I shouldn’t send her to the office. I’ve never seen anything like how she looked today. Yet, you’re not concerned. Not outwardly anyway, so I’m doing what I know how to do for someone who isn’t well. Make soup. Gregorio would have a field day with me ‘learning my place.’”
Valor steadies my knife hand, and it’s then I realize I’m shaking. “This. This isn’t your place.”
I look at him, and his eyes are the same haunting yellow that Kerrianne’s were. I tighten my grip around the handle. My heartbeat thunders in my ears, and my mouth runs dry.
“You were stunning downstairs.” The words of praise from him stoke a fire within me. “It was a little under calculated, but we were both in a hurry. Marc deserved to die. You’re far more than your ability to make food in the kitchen.”
The fire within me, the thundering pulse in my ears, his eyes that are unnaturally yellow — it’s all too much.
I step back, pulling the knife with me as I shake free of Valor’s grip. “What the fuck is going on?”
Valor runs his hands back through his hair, clearly unconcerned with the knife between us. He walks from the kitchen to the other side of the bar and begins pacing. “Listen, no one has had to do this in at least the last twenty-five years. The best ‘advice’” — heuses air quotes to punctuate his point — “is that I should trust you and that you’ll understand. Which seems ridiculous. But worse comes to worse, you get locked up in the house and never get to leave again. It isn’t exactly how I saw my marriage going. Especially when you just showed me how brutally perfect you can be.”
“Okay.” I shake my head, watching him pace, not entirely sure I’m following. The space between us lessens the thundering in my ears, but I can barely breathe with the anticipation of whatever it is that Valor is saying.
Locked up in the house forever?No, thank you. De-escalate the situation. I’ve gotta break it down.“I’m good with the illegal activity that comes with this life.” I choose my words slowly, carefully. “I’m not afraid of the work our families do.”
But this doesn’t feel crime related. Crime doesn’t make your eyes yellow and golden.
He turns to face me, stopping for a moment, and goes back to walking the living room repeatedly. “I wish it was as simple as criminal activities.”
“Valor, you’re scaring me.” I warn him with the hope he makes this stop.
It’s not a nightmare, but I yearn to wake up from this dream. The air feels thick with ominous tension.
“I know. I can smell your fear.” He hangs his head and draws a long, slow breath. “Let’s... go outside.”
He can fuckin’ what?I don’t want to go. There’s something comforting about being in the kitchen, probably the accessible weaponry. From the color of his eyes to the way he paces like a damn predator at the zoo during a field trip with small children, unsettling is an understatement. If he was going to kill me, it would be harder to clean up in the house.
