Page 85 of Vow of Silence

“It was a car accident, correct?” Dion matches my expression. “How Irina died.”

I frown and nod. Why is he bringing up Nastasya’s mother?

“Run off the road…” He lifts his other eyebrow to match the first. “Ringing any bells yet?”

No way.He doesn’t think?—

“Sounds like the same person was behind them both, hey?” He resumes walking. “Nine years between is long enough to cool the heat but not long enough to hide the coincidences.”

Fuck.I hustle after my brother, smacking him on the arm to get him to look at my hastily typed question.

Why would Naz want them both deaf?

I re-read my auto-corrected note when Dion screws his face up in confusion and re-type the last word.Fuck’s sake.

Dead.

Dion shrugs. “I don’t know, but you said you saw Arseni talking with Naz that night. It has to have something to do withwhat they discussed.” He stops beside his car, reaching for the handle to unlock it.

I set a palm against the top of the door, leaning against the Aston Martin while I thumb my phone screen with my free hand.

If it’s the same reason, why stand idle all these years? Naz doesn’t operate like that. He’s not patient enough.

He sighs. “I know.” My brother draws a deep breath, pain shadowing his eyes as he regards me. “What do you remember about that night? Did he give you any clues as to what their meeting could have been about?”

I frown. WhatdoI remember? I start with the fucking words that echoed through my head in the dark days that followed while I pushed through the worst of my recovery.

I always thought he felt I was too reckless by being with Nastasya. He told me lover’s tongues are loose tongues.

“Is that what he said, is it?” Dion sneers, lifting his gaze from the phone. “When hestoleyour lover’s tongue?”

I stare at a brave weed pushing through the stones on the driveway and nod.

“What else did he say when he butchered you, Benny?”

I swallow, suddenly aware of what an awkward fucking motion it is without the whole muscle there to assist. WhatdidIgnazio say that night? My hands fall to my sides, my phone clutched in my fist as I force my memories back there.

Back when I learned monsters are real and hell is a place here on earth.

My recollections have faded over time. Fluid scenes that now come in foggy fits and starts. I remember my breath, loud and hot, as it sawed in and out of my lungs beneath the crude hood they threw over my head. I remember hands bruising my arms as I was dragged over uneven ground and into a building. I remember wishing for the calm comfort of my mother and the steady reasoning of my father. For daylight to wake me from the nightmare.

For the fucking pain to stop.

“Hey…” Dion sets a hand on my shoulder, snapping me from the spiral.

My chest heaves, rough breath audible between us.Fuck.I’ve never processed the trauma properly. Never given it the time it deserves until now.

“It doesn’t matter.”

I set my hand over his and hold his gaze, dipping my chin in a firm nod.It does.Clinging to my brother as my anchor to the present, I close my eyes and slide back into the unlocked memory box that contains my greatest nightmare.

Ignazio talked a lot at the start, but not to me. I couldn’t make out what my uncle said at first, but when he laughed… Fuck—I knew that sound. I knew who held me captive without a shadow of a doubt.

He spoke of mistakes and stupid youth. Ranted how soft hands couldn’t raise strong boys. About how our traditions were being lost over time.

I draw a deep breath and snap my eyes open. My phone creaks beneath the thrusts of my thumbs.

He said we needed to return to the old ways. That our family strays too far from the path of tradition. He said my soft heart needed hardening, and what better way than through a fitting punishment?

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