Page 63 of Shattered Vows

“Cut the shit, Ash. Have you talked to her since she left?”

He steeples his fingers, enjoying this. “I haven’t. I’m trying to be less… domineering about checking up on her per her request.”

I knew I wasn’t alone. “They’ve been gone for a while.”

He nods.

“Well, can you tell me where they are?”

He purses his lips. “I just told you I haven’t spoken to her.”

I tilt my head. “You expect me to believe you don’t track your wife?”

Asher rolls his eyes and pulls his phone out of his suit pants pocket. I knew it. It’s the same thing I’d do with Rapsody if she had a phone.

After a minute, he looks at me. “Do not tell my wife I have a tracker on her phone.”

I roll my eyes.

“They’re at Black Magic Bar,” he says.

I scowl. “What the hell are they doing there?”

“My assumption would be that they’re having a drink.”

“I don’t like it.” I set my hands on my hips.

Asher chuckles.

“What?”

“I didn’t realize how far you’ve fallen for her. Didn’t think it was possible, if I’m honest.” He holds my gaze for a beat, and we’re both thinking about our shared past and all we endured. “I’m glad to see it though.”

I scowl. “Fuck off.” Then I stalk to the door.

“Remember you didn’t find out from me!” he calls after me because we both know where I’m headed.

I park in the lot beside the bar and step out of my car. When I round the building, I do a double take at a familiar car parked well down the street.

What the hell is Nero doing in town? As a rule, the four of us Voss brothers keep to ourselves in Midnight Manor. We’re not out shooting shit with the townies. I tuck the fact that Nero’s here in the back of my head to deal with later and enter the bar.

My eyes scan the bar, but Rapsody isn’t here. Then I hear her laugh and follow the sound to a woman standing by the end of the bar. That is not the woman who left the manor this morning. Her hair rests on her shoulders. And it makes her look sophisticated and closer to her age. It’s not only her hair; she’s wearing makeup. I’ve never seen Rapsody wear makeup, and I couldn’t care less whether she chooses to wear it or not, but it’s sexy as fuck on her. Gives her a sultry, wanton look that my dick takes notice of.

My attention snags on the drunk douchebag chatting her up. And from the looks of it, even though she and Anabelle appear to be making it clear they’re not interested, this fucker isn’t getting the message. I’m more than happy to help.

Fists clenched at my sides, I approach the bar. Anabelle spots me first, her eyes widening in alarm.

“Rapsody,” she says to get her attention.

But as Rapsody turns toward Anabelle, the man on her left grabs Rapsody’s arm to force her to face him again. Unlike when I was in combat and had control over myself, rage boils inside me, turning me into a pressure cooker about to explode.

“Get your fucking hands off her,” I say right before I remove his grip from Rapsody’s arm and toss him to the side.

Her eyes widen, full of worry.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

She nods and lets out a ragged breath.

---