Pure Vengeance

Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Natasha

“Look at you, my beautiful baby boy,” I crooned, encouraging Dante as he tottered toward me. The kitten kept pace with Dante, her purrs seeming to reassure him.

“He’s doing really well,” Dr. Mendez said as she knelt next to me. “All the exercises are helping.”

“So is Angel,” I replied, pointing at the kitten.

Jerome had been right. Cats—at least the right cat—helped people find kindness. Despite Lachlan’s continued presence in my life, Angel and Dante healed my spirit more than any amount of therapy or Krav Maga training.

Dr. Mendez laughed and held out her fingers for the kitten to sniff. “Can’t forget Angel.”

We’d somehow become friends during Dante’s recovery, and Teresa wasn’t afraid of me anymore. It was nice, but very strange to have a real friend—not one who only pretended to make it easier for her brother to abuse me.

Bitter, much?

“You helped more than anything,” I replied. “I don’t think he’d have made it without you.”

She smiled and wiped a bit of drool from his jowls. “Natasha, he is doing better, but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t remind you?—”

“I know.” I kissed my baby dog between his ears, then sighed. “He’s almost eleven, and I can’t move across country without risking his health. I bought a house about ten minutes from the clinic. It’s handicap accessible and doesn’t have stairs.”

Although small with only two bedrooms and one bathroom, the Craftsman bungalow was perfect for me and my baby dog. I especially loved the gourmet kitchen with its original cupboards and hardwood flooring, and I absolutely would not paint over the height markings carved into the bathroom door frame from the previous owner’s grown children. They were incontrovertible proof that some families got to grow up happy.

Thankfully, I’d managed to unload my father’s house quickly, and at a fair price, but I wondered if I should find an exorcist or something to cleanse the place of lingering evil before the new owners took possession.

Ack. Don’t mention possession.

“Sounds perfect.” Teresa gave Dante a pat and scritched Angel under her chin, then rose to her feet. “I need to get back to the clinic, but text me if you need anything.”

“I have leftover sweet potato gnocchi if you’re interested in lunch. You could take it home to Vince if you don’t have time now.”

“Tempting, but no.” She sighed and patted her stomach. “My scrubs are already too tight from your cooking, and Vince is threatening to divorce me so he can marry you for your food.”

Laughing, I got up and escorted her to the door. “Fair enough. Are we still on for that wine tasting Friday?”

“You know it! Vince will be our designated driver.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Look at you, all scheduling outings with friends and shit.

I waved as she got into her truck and drove away, then trudged to the kitchen. As usual, I found Lachlan at the table waiting for me.

“You’re worse than Dante,” I muttered as I pulled the pan of leftover gnocchi from the fridge. “Always begging for table scraps.”

“You know what they say…” He grinned, reminding me of the man I’d once thought he was. “The way to a man’s heart?—”

“Is through the fourth and fifth ribs with an eight-inch carving knife.” I scooped a helping to a plate and put it in the microwave, leaving the gnocchi out for him to heat up his own. “Have you signed my divorce papers yet?”

“Are you going to quit refusing alimony?” he countered.

“No.”

The jackass had the nerve to smirk at me. “Then I’m not signing them.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“I know.” He warmed a plate for himself, then grated a generous amount of parmesan on top. “But I’m an asshole who truly wants to do right by you.”

I sighed and ate my food even though my appetite fled. Why the hell was I even fighting about this? It was like my subconscious was looking for ways to stay married to him.

Ugh. No, thank you.

Besides, letting him give me alimony didn’t mean I had to use it. I didn’t even have to keep it. Hiding a smile, I carried my plate to the sink.

“You win. Bring me the damned papers.”

“I never thought you’d give in,” he murmured as he crowded me at the sink.

His warm breath tickled the back of my neck and I shivered, hating that I wanted him to touch me. “Actually, you’re going to double your original offer.”

“I’m not complaining, but why?” He reached around me and took my plate, then rinsed it.

“I’m donating it to a women’s shelter.”

He stilled, making me dart out of reach before he lashed out. Instead of chasing me, his shoulders shook with laughter.

“Touché, Natasha.”

Lachlan

I laid our divorce agreement on the table in front of her before handing her a pen.

“Put in the amount you want and initial it,” I said.

Natasha’s hand didn’t shake—unlike when she signed our marriage certificate. I couldn’t decide if I was happy or not.

Win the battle, lose the war.

At least my sister would be happy.

Despite my best efforts, Natasha was just as antagonistic as she’d been when she moved in with Dante, and I still didn’t know how to fix us.

I truly fucking hated how she flinched whenever I broke her six-foot bubble of personal space. I would have given anything for a do-over so I could have ended her father twelve years ago.

For a moment, I wondered if I should tell her about the real wedding gift I’d arranged, but it wasn’t quite finished. Finn hadn’t been able to locate three of her father’s former guards, and I didn’t want to say anything until they were all dead.

“There you go.” She returned the pen and folded her arms over her chest. “Your turn.”

Hiding a grimace, I put my initials next to the change and signed the bottom. “I guess that’s it. You’re a free woman.”

“Thanks.” Rising to her feet, she added, “I’m moving out tomorrow.”

“Where to?”

“I bought a house close to Dr. Mendez’s clinic.”

“I—” My phone chimed with Saoirse’s ringtone. “Sorry. It’s my sister.”

“Perfect timing.” As she strode to the kitchen door leading outside, she added, “You can tell her it’s safe to come home.”

I nodded and tapped the screen to accept the call. Before I could say anything, Saoirse screamed my name loudly enough for Natasha to hear.

“Saoirse? Are you okay? What happened?”

Frowning, Natasha returned to sit next to me, then leaned closer.

I heard low male laughter. “Just the man we wanted to talk to. Have you heard from your old friend Finn lately?”

Natasha paled and her throat worked as she swallowed. “Oh, god. George.”

“Why should I care? He’ll turn up sooner or later.” I laid my hand on Natasha’s knee and tried to project a calmness I didn’t feel. “I’m looking for Enrique and Matt too. You’ve somehow managed to crawl into the sewers like diseased rodents, but I got everyone else.”

Natasha blinked and her lips parted as she stared at me. George interrupted before she could speak.

“Nice. I hear you still have that little cunt Tasha with you. Might as well put me on speaker so she can hear what happens to uppity bitches who don’t do as they’re told.”

My phone threatened to crack under the pressure of my grip, but Natasha eased the device from me and set it on the table before tapping the speaker icon. I could hear my sister crying softly and my blood iced.

‘We’re listening,” Natasha said softly. “What do you want?”

“From you? Nothing right now, so be quiet and let the grownups talk.” He laughed again, and I heard a crack of sound before Saoirse screamed again. “I’m thinking Lachlan might want something though.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“See, I’m thinking you might be interested in a trade. You give us Tasha, and you get your sister back. She’ll even be in one piece, more or less.”

Natasha stiffened and all the fear faded from her expression. She looked at me with dark brown eyes that seemed to have lost even the smallest trace of humanity.

“Tell him yes,” she whispered softly.

I muted the call, then grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “You are not fucking giving yourself to them.”

“Not even to save your sister?” She smiled, but it was as if an automaton moved her facial muscles. “You surprise me. Think of all the money you’d save if you didn’t have to pay me alimony.”

“Fuck the money. We’ll find another way. I am not letting you go.”

Before I could pull her into my arms, she shook her head and took a step away from me. “Trust me. Tell him yes.”

“No. I?—”

A flicker of emotion flashed in her eyes but disappeared almost as quickly. “Lachlan, trust me. Please.”

“Fuck!”

Natasha didn’t say please. She didn’t beg and had asked for nothing except her dog’s life—even when she had the means and motive to destroy me altogether.

I did trust her. With my life. But the cost was too high. I couldn’t lose her—but I couldn’t lose Saoirse either.

“Lachlan…” She moved closer and brushed a kiss over my cheek. “Trust me. I’m not going to let anything happen to you or your sister.”

My shoulders slumped and I tapped the mute icon. “You have a deal. Where and when?”

“We’ll meet in two hours at your house,” George snapped. “No guards, and if I see the dog that killed Steve, your sister is dead.”

The call dropped and I blinked to hold back tears of fury. Once I had myself under control, I looked up at my wife. “God, Natasha. I hope to fuck you know what you’re doing.”

Ignoring me, she tapped her phone screen and held it to her ear. “Hey, Teresa. I need a huge favor. Can you come get Dante and Angel? I have a slight emergency, but I’ll pick them up in the morning.”

Her eyes twinkled as she listened to the reply. “Thanks. It’s nothing serious. I just don’t want to leave them alone. I’ll give you some of that lemon cannelloni I made too. See you soon.”

Nonplussed by her cheerfulness, I followed her into the kitchen and waited while she pulled a large aluminum baking tray from the freezer and placed it in a canvas shopping bag.

Dr. Mendez didn’t waste any time, and soon had Dante and Angel loaded into her truck. Giving us a wave, she drove away.

“Okay. That takes care of that.” Natasha strode back inside and to her bedroom, then pulled a large duffel bag from her closet.

“What are you doing?” I resisted the urge to shake her and ask what the fuck she was thinking.

“Plotting mayhem.” She unzipped the bag and I gasped at the sight of its contents.

“Holy shit.”

Smiling faintly, she pulled a sawed-off shotgun from her bag, along with several throwing knives, boxes of ammunition, and two semiautomatic pistols. After handing me one of the pistols and a box of ammo, she said, “Hope your homeowner’s insurance is paid up.”