Page 67 of Vows in Violence

I glance at Ivan’s retreating form. “He just told me to wear something comfortable.”

Evie eyes me up and down. “Good, then; that’ll work. You’re going to need it.”

Evie leads the way to the basement with all of its fine furnishings. I find myself looking around curiously, as though I’m a visitor in someone else’s home.

Which, technically, I suppose I am now.

Still, this was my home. I should be familiar with the basement. I’m not, though. It’s as foreign to me as if I’ve never stepped foot down here.

Throughout my childhood and teenage years at the mansion, I was never permitted to wander down here. I didn’t even know that the torture room where Ivan extracted information from Azrael’s man existed. Evie moves confidently, as if she owned the place, as if Lorenzo Valachi never slammed the basement door in her face.

We go deep into the basement, so deep that I’m sure that at some point, this part must have been extended beyond the footprint of the mansion above. Evie finally opens the door to a long room with a dirt floor, industrial lights, and targets in the distance.

Rowan, Lulu, and Carina are waiting, all of them dressed casually.

“What is this?” I ask, trying to hide my surprise.

Carina answers. “Training, kid. Ivan’s orders.”

My forehead puckers. “Why would Ivan order this? Does he expect us to fight?”

Evie replies this time. “Not you three,” she says, motioning to Lulu, Rowan, and me, but there have been too many close calls in the last few years involving daughters of Dons. Ivan doesn’t want you completely helpless so he’s asked Carina and me to show you how to protect yourself.”

She gestures to a table, and I notice a row of handguns. A cold chill runs through my body, and I back away.

“No. I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can,” Evie says firmly. “You just point and shoot. You’ve done it before.”

I close my eyes against the reminder, stated so matter-of-factly in Evie’s implacable voice. “I didn’t want to. I had to. Please don’t make me do this.”

Rowan moves over and puts her arm around my shoulders. The tables have flipped; it’s Rowan lending me comfort and strength, when once, I was that person for her. “It’s all right, Vivi. There is a good chance that we won’t have to use any of this stuff. Ivan just wants to make sure you are safe.”

Then, keep this fucking war far away from me. I’m so tired of war.

I was with Ivan right now only because he didn’t trust anyone else to adequately protect me. Now that an alliance has been reformed between the families, there is no reason for me to be there when they confront Waylon.

Evie ignores my hesitation and walks over to the table. Her hips move with a fluidity that makes me envious. There is a raw sexuality to Evie, an innate, casual thing that she doesn’t have to work to bring out. It’s confidence.

She hands me a set of professional-looking earphones, then motions to the other sets lying on the table and looks at the other women. “Put these on. You guys, too. Hearing protection.”

Choosing a gun from the selection, she presents it to me, the weapon sitting comfortably in her outstretched hand.

“This beauty is a Walther PDP-F. Nine millimeter, semi-automatic. It’s good for women because of its smaller grip diameter and shorter length of pull.” She continues, giving me a list of specs that make my head swim.

Finally, I stop her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, and no offense, but I don’t care.”

Evie rolls her eyes and thrusts the gun toward me. “Just take it. The safety’s on. See this little piece right here? As long as it’s in this position, the gun won’t fire. It should always be in this position unless you are intending to use it.”

She holds the gun in front of me, her expression inexorable.

I don’t take it.

“Vivi…you are the wife to the most dangerous man in the city; you need to know how to use a gun.”

I shake my head. “I can’t do this, Evie. I know it seems easy to you, but I can’t.”

Rolling her lips inward—likely to prevent herself from saying something she shouldn’t—Evie turns and offers the gun to Rowan. Rowan takes it, her eyes looking my way with apology. I give her a quick, tremulous smile to show that I’m not upset.

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