Page 84 of Vow of Vengeance
"I heard him say something, but it didn't make any sense."
"Tell me!" I demand.
"He said something about fucking his wife... or his fucking wife?" I can hear the confusion in her tone.
His fucking wife.
What the fuck?
I'm already on my way out the door before I remember Marissa. "Stay with him. Call the police. It was self-defense, right?"
Marissa doesn't react, and Wes opens his mouth like he's going to object before I cut him off.
"You can have a new identity by morning, right? Stay with her. It was self-defense."
I don't give him the phone back. He can go find Khan's to dial 911.
"And how do I explain all this?" Wes argues, his hands in the air.
"You're smart." I snap. "Think of something."
Wes left the keys on the driver's seat, a ballsy move for a rental, and I practically run for them. "What's going on?" Violet asks, clearly bewildered.
"The man who took her... was he dark-skinned or light?”
"Uh..." Violet hesitates as she thinks. "Light. Pale. But his face was dark... like... shadowy?" She sighs, and it sounds suspiciously like a sob. "I'm so sorry! I swear, we didn't see anyone out there. I never would have opened the door for a stranger but--"
"Stop." I cut her off brusquely. "It's not your fault."
It's not. But if anything happens to Soren, it's about to be her problem. I'll go scorched earth on herandWes and anybody else who gets in my way.
"Stay at my place until one of us gets there. It may be a while. Wes is... busy."
"Should I go look for her? I can-"
"No. Stay put, and don't open the door this time."
She's in the middle of saying something when I hang up on her and toss the phone onto the passenger seat, slamming my foot against the gas pedal.
It can't take more than five minutes to get to the bar, but it feels like a lifetime as I weave in and out of traffic, pushing the limits of the rental vehicle until I pull up just outside the bar's front entrance.
I throw the door open so hard that a woman sitting on a stool nearby nearly jumps off of it. But I don't stop, scanning the crowd as I walk to the back room.
I ignore the man who yells when I stalk behind the bar, and throw the door leading to the back room open as well. A man jumps to his feet, hitting the table as he stands and sending poker chips and cards flying around the floor.
"What the hell?" Tony grunts, getting to his feet too as I stride right up to him.
"Everyone out." I grit, without removing my gaze from Tony's stupid face.
"There's cash out." Someone objects. "And I'm winning."
I reach for the gun that my fingers have been itching to wrap around, and as soon as they're facing down the barrel, the two men look at each other decisively and leave.
"What's your play here, Evers?" Tony laughs, showing me his hands.
"Soren." I snap. "Someone's got her. Is it you?"
"Soren?" He laughs. "No, I don't have her. I'm not interested in a bitch who's been run through more than a college playbook in postseason." He smirks knowingly, and I could shoot him just for that. But I fucking need him alive.
