Page 91 of Vow of Vengeance
I stare at him, the adrenaline in my veins burning too out of control to understand his subtext. "Go fucking try."
"I'm telling you, Vin would open the door for you before he'd do it for me. I'm the one that killed him..." He turns his gaze back to the monitor, but I don't dare fucking look. I'm holding ontothe last thread of my sanity, and Tony's half a second from me redecorating this office with his brain matter.
My gaze lights on the fire alarm, the axe next to it.
"Grab the axe." I tell him, gesturing with the barrel to the axe behind the glass. It's all I've got, and I'm not letting Tony walk away, so he's gonna have to do it.
He glares at me before rolling his eyes and crossing to the fire alarm. His hands search for some kind of latch to open the case.
"Break the glass," I growl, my frustration tipping over as I imagine what hell my wife is suffering. What hell she may have already suffered. I couldn't even tell in the video if she's alive, but my mind won't let me entertain the possibility she’s not.
"Withwhat?" Tony snaps, turning to glare at me. He spins back before I draw up behind him, and he's fumbling for something in his pocket when I grip the back of his neck and slam his head into the glass.
It shatters nicely as Tony screams like a little bitch.
I let go of him long enough to punch out the rest of the jagged pieces that remain, and he howls with his hands raised to his face, as if I could have made him any uglier if I tried.
"You fucking cunt!"
"Grab the axe and let's go."
Tony growls as blood pours down his face, but he decides to start listening to me and reaches past the jagged glass to close his fat hands around the axe handle. He hefts it over his shoulder and glares at me.
If I didn't have the gun in hand, I have no doubt he'd swing for me, but the barrel trained on him keeps him in check as he stalks out of the office with me on his heels.
I bury the barrel against his spine and push him to walk faster, ignoring his heavy, gasping breaths.
When we get to room seventeen, my vision is in danger of blacking out from the fury crowding my veins, the adrenaline pushing me to new heights.
"Bust it down." I growl near his ear. And then I step to the side as he hefts the axe. I half expect he'll have a heart attack and die before he can even get the strength to bring the axe down, but after a moment, it makes connection.
The thud splinters the wood, but it's only surface level.
Now Vin knows we're here.
"Again." I growl.
Tony huffs and puffs and pulls on the axe, nearly stumbling back into the parking lot when the blade dislodges.
I watch the curtains move just as Tony strikes again, and I catch a glimpse of the face peeking out the dirty window.
It's a face I've only ever seen in pictures or videos, until now.
It's him.
The shock is clear on his face when Tony steps back and drops down to brace his arms on his knees, winded.
I watch the curtains drop back in place and imagine he's backing away in fear. I fire off one shot, right past Tony's ear, and bust the space right above the doorknob. I hear Vincent yell on the other side, but I don't hear her. I don't hear Soren. Why isn't she making any noise? Crying, screaming? She's too quiet, but I don’t let myself consider what that means.
The axe is still buried in the door when I stuff the gun in my waistband and wrap my palms around the wood handle.
All it takes is one hit, right over the same space where the doorknob came loose, and there's a sound of wood cracking. The resistance gives way under the weight of me pushing the door open, and I grab Tony in one hand. With the axe in the other, I shove him through the door and follow him in so that I can shut the door behind us.
I don't even look for her before I draw the safety latch, because if I see her, I'm going to run to her, and that will leave us both vulnerable.
Instead, I throw the axe to the ground, the opposite side of where Tony is bent over wheezing and draw the gun as I fix my attention on the fucking ghost before me. His eyes are wide with shock, and he doesn't even have the wherewithal to cover his junk.
He's stark naked... in the room with my wife.
