Page 62 of Pure Vengeance

“Natasha, stop.”

“Spare me the crocodile tears, Lachlan. You asked the fucking questions, so now you get to hear the answers.” She pinned me with a derisive glare. “When he was feeling particularly lazy, he'd have his guards whip me instead of doing it himself. This will sound familiar to you, so listen up. The housekeeping staff we used to have looked the other way and pretended they didn’t hear me scream because he would have hurt them if they tried to help.”

My throat worked as I attempted to swallow the bile filling my mouth. Maybe I was as bad as her father, but the thought of someone touching a child made me sick. “Did they… Did the guards touch you?”

If they had, they’d be dead before they knew it. Knowing Natasha had been abused so horribly was bad enough.

“No. They all said I was too fat and ugly to fuck. Besides, you knew I was a virgin when you married me.” She waved a dismissive hand at me as if she was brushing off the abuse she’d suffered. “The teacher’s name was Mrs. Price. She had a new baby and a husband who picked her up from school. The day she reported the whip marks on my legs was the last time I saw her. I’m pretty sure my father had her murdered because we had a new teacher the very next day, and nobody at school mentioned Mrs. Price’s name even once. When I was eight, he did the same thing to the gardener’s puppy after he caught me playing with it. I was in middle school when the cello I used to love ended up in the fireplace along with my favorite teddy bear. He fucking toasted marshmallows over it, even though I never practiced where he could hear me.”

“Stop.” I held up a hand to cut her off, but she wasn’t done. It didn’t seem to matter that I didn’t want to hear any more. Shame ate at me from the inside. I might have lost Darragh, but she’d suffered a lifetime of systematic abuse at Steve Ashland’s hands.

Instead of saving her, I’d continued Steve’s despicable work and destroyed an innocent soul.

“Every single thing or person I paid even the slightest bit of attention to ended up destroyed or dead. I didn’t dare make friends, much less try for a boyfriend, so you don’t get to be surprised about me being a virgin on our wedding night.” She leaned back in her chair and studied me with emotionless eyes. “I don’t have any proof, but I’m willing to bet he murdered my mother too. So, when you ask me if I’m happy he’s dead, the answer is a resounding yes. I want to spit on his fucking grave.”

A slow, insidious thought intruded into my brain and I almost gasped when I realized she’d spent nearly two days with a dog who should have terrified her, and according to Jerome, had watched his training for at least two weeks.

Hoping to catch her off balance, I asked, “What’s Dante’s cue?”

Her lips bowed into a faint smile, but I didn’t miss the satisfaction gleaming in her brown eyes. “How should I know your dog’s cues? I’m just thankful he’s a good judge of character.”

She was lying. Somehow, she’d figured out Dante’s cue to attack, and managed to whisper it at just the right moment.

Fuck, I thought I was the cold-blooded one.

“Natasha, I am so?—”

“Didn’t we agree to no pity?” she interrupted. “I will give you one more truth, and then I want your answer about when you’re letting me go.”

CHAPTER TEN

Natasha

Although Lachlan hadn’t put away nearly as much booze as I had, he poured himself a double shot and drank it, then poured another.

Strangely enough, I felt almost completely sober. Maybe unloading on him with all the words I hadn’t spoken in so long drove the alcohol from my system, along with the poison that had festered in my heart for almost my entire life. It was too bad too. Being drunk might have made it easier to return to the kennel after the tiny taste of humanity he’d shown me.

“All right.” He put his empty glass to the side and folded his hands in front of him. “What’s your final truth?”

As much as I wanted to, I didn’t touch the last of my scotch. I’d had quite enough already. After taking a deep breath, I said, “I’m sad for Dante because I love him, and I know you’re going to put him down. All I ask is that you do it humanely and let me hold him while he passes.”

He studied me intently for several seconds, his piercing blue gaze seeming to burrow into my chest. “I’m not your father,Natasha. I’m not going to destroy an animal for doing exactly as he was trained. Your feelings for him are irrelevant.”

“Yeah.” The answer disappointed me, although I had no idea why. I should have been happy to learn he wouldn’t harm Dante. Besides, my feelings had never mattered to anyone in the first place—least of all to the man who only married me to exact revenge on my not-so-dearly departed sperm donor.

“I also know you’re lying,” he said, surprising me from my morose thoughts. “How did you learn his kill cue?”

“If I tell you, will you agree to let me go?”

“I’m still thinking about it.”

Although his answer was better than an outright refusal, I bit back a sigh. He might have been willing to give me this moment before I went back to my regularly scheduled public disgrace and humiliation, but I’d never be free of him unless I could make him let me go.

Then again, I’d done it with my father already. It would just take time to work out another plan for Lachlan.

“I listened to Jerome when he worked Dante with the training dummy. It’s not English, so I practiced before I used it.”

He barked out a dry laugh. “It’s the Gaelic word for rabbit.”

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