Pure Vengeance

Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Natasha

These days, the only difference between me and Dante was the chain leash attached to my collar—the end of which Lachlan kept wrapped around his fist.

According to my husband, Dante didn’t need a leash and got to sit in the front seat because he was a good boy .

Hubby dearest wasn’t wrong.

Dante was the best dog in the world—at least to me—and I didn’t even care that Lachlan had probably wanted him to scare me when he made us share a kennel.

Where most people would see a ginormous trained killer, all I saw was flappy jowls, more tongue than any one dog actually needed, and kind brown eyes full of love. I was head over heels from the moment he licked my face.

I was so, so careful to never let Lachlan see how much I adored Dante, and Dante seemed to understand the dangers too. He didn’t come near me when Lachlan was around.

The town car pulled to a stop in front of a large Tudor home with several old-growth redwoods scattered around the outside. Motion-activated floodlights illuminated the property in yellowed patches, but I couldn’t see much of the landscaping from my position in the footwell of the back seat. About the only thing I knew of our location was that it was several miles south of my prison.

Dante bounded out the minute the door opened. Before I could follow him, Lachlan held up a hand to stop me.

“You may walk until we’re inside. The driveway is gravel, and I prefer my pets unmarked.”

He scowled and jerked on my leash when I nodded and didn’t reply.

“A thank you would be in order right now, puppy.” He tugged harder on the leash, forcing me to my tiptoes. “Or would you rather crawl on the gravel?”

Before I could decide whether or not to answer, he cursed under his breath and strode away, pulling me along behind him.

It was dangerously passive-aggressive, but Lachlan didn’t get my words.

Despite being mostly inured to Lachlan’s treatment of me, I almost hesitated when he led me through the foyer into a large, open-plan living room. I hadn’t been indoors in weeks, and I wasn’t sure I liked the walls closing around me.

All the guests were men, and judging by their effusive greetings, they were obviously acquainted with him.

Saoirse was there too, dressed in a gorgeous green cocktail dress that did amazing things for her athletic figure. I hated that she looked so good, but the frown on her face when she gazed at me spoiled the aesthetic. Her mood didn’t matter to me though. It wasn’t as if my presence in her life was my fault. I’d happily remove myself from the situation if her brother would let me.

I’d been to many parties in my past life. I used to wear couture. The overpriced wine and delicate hors d’oeuvres sometimes made up for the insipid conversation. I never listened to it anyway because I was always too busy making sure my father couldn’t fault a single moment of my performances.

And this was a performance too.

I suppose I should have been thankful there were fewer than a dozen attendees, and I wouldn’t be asked to speak to any of them. I tried not to notice them watching me, but the gossip would make the rounds before midnight. Thankfully, I didn’t see any cell phones catching my ignoble path toward the buffet table.

It wasn’t as if anyone could miss a bald woman crawling at a man’s side wearing nothing but a nearly sheer black leotard with a hole in the back for a butt plug to which a fluffy tail was attached.

At least he’d had Jerome use actual hot water and decent soap to bathe me, so I didn’t smell like the dog kennel I’d been living in since my wedding day.

Lachlan would take any opportunity to humiliate me, and this must have been his crowning achievement. He had a goal though, and I had a good idea what it was.

“Is he here yet?” he asked one of the men.

“According to the guards, his car just pulled into the driveway.”

“Good.”

God, I hoped I was right about the person Lachlan was talking about.

He hated my father—maybe as much as I did, although I didn’t know why. He probably thought presenting me in a dog costume with mitts on my hands and a tail shoved up my ass would drive my father nuts. I might have laughed if Lachlan’s plot wasn’t at my expense.

The word I’d memorized, and only practiced when I was absolutely sure no one could hear or see slid across my lips, tasting both sweet and bitter. Sweet, because I might finally be in position to achieve the first part of my goal, and bitter because it would cost me my only friend.

A scant few moments later, my father strode inside, then stopped in the middle of the room when he saw me. He paled and his hands tightened into fists as his eyes narrowed.

“Come, puppy.” Lachlan tugged on the leash, making me crawl as fast as I could. “I’d hate for you to be naughty and miss your reunion with your father.”

With an especially violent yank, he pulled me along until we were within feet of my father.

I lowered my head and sat back on my heels with my mitted hands on my thighs as Lachlan dropped my leash and moved ahead of me. Instead of following Lachlan, Dante sidled closer as if to give me comfort.

Or maybe he thought he was protecting me.

“Shouldn’t pets be left outside?” my father asked.

“My wife, my rules.” Lachlan shrugged, and I was glad I couldn’t see the smirk that probably decorated his too-handsome face. “I thought you might want to say hello.”

“I don’t talk to animals; much less useless little sluts like her.”

“Dad?” I lifted my mitted hand to touch his knee, but he pulled back his leg to kick me.

“Don’t touch me, bitch.”

Dante bared his teeth and growled, obviously sensing my intent. I lowered my head before I let the word I’d practiced leave my lips on the faintest breath of a whisper, audible only to my one friend who didn’t deserve what would happen to him. I’d live with the guilt forever.

Lachlan

Before Steve’s booted foot could connect with Natasha’s face, Dante lunged for his throat.

“No!” His eyes widening with fear, Steve threw up an arm, but there was no stopping almost two hundred pounds of trained guard dog. Steve had just enough time for one last terrified scream before the sound cut off with a wet gurgle.

Despite years of training and impeccable obedience, Dante killed Steve without his cue word. He didn’t make a sound. I heard not a single growl or snarl as he took my greatest enemy to the floor and tore out his throat.

Steve passed from this world almost as quickly. It seemed the devil already had a place for him in hell, but I had to admit to some disappointment. I’d planned to let him spend years thinking about what I’d done to Natasha.

Except… Judging by the things he said, Steve was happy to see Natasha on her knees. Aside from that, he would have hurt her badly if Dante hadn’t stopped him. His reaction didn’t make sense at all. Hadn’t he loved her?

His muzzle and chest covered in blood, Dante returned to his position next to Natasha and sat on his haunches—the perfect picture of canine submission—and also without his cue to stand down. I’d been too shocked to say it, and Dante hadn’t given me time.

Natasha didn’t move. She kept her head bowed and her hands on her thighs while my men silently waited for my reaction.

None of them were sorry to see Steve Ashland dead, but as usual, Natasha’s inexplicable behavior irritated the fuck out of me. Saoirse didn’t say a word either, but her hands shook as she poured herself another cocktail.

Why wasn’t Natasha crying? Her father was dead, so there should have been tears. For that matter, why wasn’t she cowering away from Dante?

“Don’t worry about the mess,” Finn said, drawing my attention from my perplexing wife. “We’ll get it cleaned up and arrange trash disposal.”

“Thanks.”

Finn hesitated and glanced at Dante. “I know he’s your favorite, but he attacked without his cue. We can have the vet out to put him down in the morning.”

There it was.

If I hadn’t been looking at her, I’d have missed the muscles tightening in her back. She hadn’t moved a goddamned inch over her father’s death, but Finn’s suggestion to have Dante destroyed made her react.

And why the fuck was I seeing the knobs of her spine? Considering I trained her every day, I wasn’t sure how I’d managed to miss the absence of her soft curves, but she was all hard edges and angles, with wiry muscle under silken skin.

“I’ll take it under advisement.” I snapped my fingers and crouched to pick up her leash. Before she could get to her hands and knees, I pulled her to her feet and wrapped my hand around her wrist. “We’re going home.”

Something was off about this whole situation, and I couldn’t abide not having the whole story.

I let her maintain her silence, and her spot at my feet in the footwell, until we got home. Dante was safely muzzled in the front seat with my driver.

There would be plenty of time to get the answers I wanted. I laid my hand on the back of her neck as I thought of all the ways I’d extract information from her.

My town car slowed and stopped close to the steps leading up to my house. When my driver opened the door, I said, “Take Dante to the kennel. I’ll deal with him in the morning.”

Natasha flinched under my touch, but I let her reaction slide without commenting. When she turned to follow my driver to the kennels, I tugged her leash and guided her into the house.

And still, she said not a word.

Malicious compliance, thy name is Natasha Ashland O’Donnell.

She could give a fucking masterclass.

With Steve dead, there wasn’t any reason for me to keep her anymore. Considering she wasn’t even ten when Steve put the hit on Darragh, she bore no guilt herself, and was just a means to an end.

Except I couldn’t let her go until I knew all her secrets.

And maybe I should think about sharing one or two of my own.

Of course, I was already doing that to some extent. She’d hadn’t been inside my house since our wedding day, but she didn’t react to that either. She kept her eyes on her feet as I led her up the carpeted steps to my suite.

Still silent, she followed me to the center of the room. Before she could drop to her knees between the bed and the en suite, I shook my head and got the hex key for her collar from my pocket.

After unlocking her collar, I let it drop to the floor and took off her mitts, then turned her to face the bathroom. “Remove your tail and wash off the blood. There’s a robe hanging on the door. You may wear it when you finish.”

She nodded but didn’t speak as she walked into the bathroom. I had to treat her like a person, and not only because I needed some answers.

When the door closed behind her, I went downstairs to the kitchen for a bottle of wine and some snacks. She’d be doubly appreciative for the chance to eat something from a plate instead of from a steel dog bowl.

After that?

I wasn’t sure. With Steve dead, my taste for revenge was gone. I had no reason to keep Natasha, and a hundred reasons to set her free.

Obtaining a divorce would be easy enough. She’d be so glad to get out, I was betting she’d walk away with nothing but my bathrobe and never look back. If I was feeling very generous, I might arrange for her to inherit what was left of her father’s assets. There was probably enough for her to buy a small house and start over.

Except…

I didn’t want to let her go.