Page 23 of Bound in Promise
“Don’t speak for me, bitch,” Liam spits. “I’m not—” My finger begins to tug at the trigger and I aim for his throat—I’d love nothing more than to hear him choke on his own blood before he finally dies—but Victoria yanks at my elbow, drawing my attention.
“He didn’t know what else to do.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” I sneer, looking over my shoulder at her worried expression. “And I’d save your breath instead of pleading for his life if I were you.”
Victoria frowns at me. “I know him, Dante.”
“Yeah, Uncle D,” Liam crows. “She knows me.”
My finger flirts with the trigger again and I stretch my jaw. He’s right.
And I want to kill him for that alone.
Nonetheless, seeing me shoot him isn’t something I want Victoria to have to deal with. Those images don’t go away. That kind of scene will randomly pop in from time to time for the rest of her life, like a ghost swooping in to say hello.
She’s been through enough.
“You better tell your boy to shut the fuck up,” I quip. “Or I’m going to blow his vocal cords out right now.”
“Let’s talk about this later,” she concludes evenly with her blue eyes shining in a silent plea. “I just want to be with you and?—”
I jerk my head to Liam. “What do you want me to do with him?”
Victoria blinks and then bites down on her lower lip. “I guess…we could sleep here?”
“Try again.” The last thing I’m going to do is let my wife sleep at this dump. There are three dead bodies in the backyard and fuck knows who will try to come through the front door. We’ve already been here longer than is wise.
“He needs a doctor?—”
I slam my hand on the counter without thinking, and Victoria jumps and flinches in on herself. Fuck me. I want to punch myself for scaring her, want to reach out to touch her and soothe away her fear, but I don’t trust myself to be as gentle as she needs. “Fuck that. It’s too risky and I’m not sure he deserves to live anyways.”
Victoria opens her mouth, closes it, then opens it again. “What’s he going to do? Rat us out? He can’t tell the cops anything. Not when I can prove he kidnapped me. I have the bruises, the text messages I sent to you and Ellie. Plus, he murdered a man at a gas station.”
He did what now?
“They’re not gonna believe that, Vee,” Liam hedges, but I can’t focus on his bullshit because, again, he did what? “I’ll tell the cops every fuckin’ thing about you and Uncle D.”
“No, you’re not,” Victoria replies coldly. “Your entitlement isn’t going to buy you a ticket out of this mess, Liam. Like I said, text messages, a dead body the cops have definitely found by now, and me. And shit…” Her index finger comes up to her bottom lip as if pondering something deep. “I think you hurt those guys out back, too?”
Damn.
My lips curve in satisfaction. Victoria has a point, and she’s laying out a solid hand. It might be a risk, but if it keeps Liam out of my fucking sight and appeases my wife, I’ll play along—for now.
“We can get your fingerprints all over this gun easily enough. What a psycho, running around with two guns.”
“You two are fuckin’ assholes,” he fumes. “I’m not takin’ the blame for this shit.”
“Suit yourself,” Victoria chimes with a lift of her slim shoulders. “Speaking of asses, though, I’m sure the boys in prison would love your virgin hole. Wanna bet on that, or do you want to shut your big mouth and live to see another day?”
His nostrils flare, but he doesn’t say a word.
I’m going to take that as a solid yes on living until tomorrow.
9
VICTORIA
The hard line Dante and I clearly drew between us has shifted. It might as well be erased at this point.
