Page 159 of Savior
“You can’t possibly believe that.” His eyes shoot back up to meet mine, a slight scowl in them, before his expression shifts to pain. “How could you, after what happened? After what he orchestrated! You were almost…”
“Dean, please…” We don’t talk about this. It’s our unspoken promise…
He swallows hard, glaring back at me as he folds up the letter and shoves it back inside the inner pocket of his cut.
“When I confronted him about the cabin, he insisted he had nothing to do with it. He said he would never let his crew hurt me.” I go on.
“You told him… what happened?” he looks astonished, and even more betrayed.
“No… I… I couldn’t… I didn’t get into specifics… But, I thought you believed he had feelings for me?”
Dean scoffs. “In his fucking dick. You don’t have to actually care about a woman, to want to fuck her, doll. Believe me.” He growls, shoving himself up and out of his seat.
“You haven’t finished-”
“I’ve lost my appetite.” He snaps at me.
“Where are you going?”
“The Twisted Throttle. Viking’s got shit he needs to do tonight, so I have to be there. And I need some fuckin’ air, anyway.”
“You’re mad at me...”
He doesn’t answer.
“I’m sorry… Don’t leave mad at me.”
The angry expression in his eyes softens slightly at my words. “I’m not mad at you. I’m just… not accustomed to being bested by an enemy at every fucking turn!” He grips the back of his chair, leaning on it. Bowing his head for a moment, he takes a breath before he lifts his face to stare at me again. “What is it about him, Vanna? A filthy, drug pushing pimp! You say you believe me, yet it doesn’t seem to register with you, just how much of a threat he is.”
I wish I could answer that… Dean is right, it makes no logical sense that I don’t fear Legion as much as I should. Is it because I’ve never felt fear like I did about Jack, that nothing compares? Am I numb to it now? Burned out after all the years of living in fear? Can I just not feel it anymore? Or is it something else… Something about Legion’s dark allure that I’m afraid to examine myself. Laura has warned me about dark magic. How it has a pull, seduces you…
My silence seems to disturb Dean, further. “Life with you has convinced me there is magic in the world, baby. But I’ve never been more convinced of the validity of spells until now. He must have you under one. Because you know better, Vanna. You survived a bad man before. Legion might not be what Jack was… But the letter proves he played a part in what happened to us. You have to see that now.”
“I see it… I don’t know what else to say. I see it, Dean. I’m sorry.”
Dean reaches out to gently stroke my cheek with the back of his fingers. “Say you promise to stay away from him. If you believe me, you’ll do that for me. You’ll make me that promise. And if you love me, Vanna, you’ll keep it.”
“You know I love you.” I sigh.
But he waits… And so, I promise.
My shift at the Twisted Throttle drags. The hours tick by uneventfully and agonizingly slow. Even though I needed to get some air after our argument at home, by closing time, I’m longing to be with Vanna again.
As I walk across the lot towards Serene, heading home for the night, the sound of something, or someone, stumbling into the glass recycling bins on the side of the twisted throttle, rattles across the lot.
I’m about to tell the drunk fuck to call a cab and sleep it off, when what sounds like a woman’s whimper drifts from the shadows.
Immediately I move in that direction, fearing the worst. When I push the gate open, I’m greeted with the sharp tip of a blade at my jugular, and instinctively freeze.
Fuck… Ain’t this some shit...
“Give it back.” She whispers on a shaky breath. I recognize her voice within an instant.
“Are you insane?” I watch as Lucinda steps from the shadows to stand before me, keeping the switchblade pointed at my throat.
“It’s never going to work with her, you know.” Lucinda says, dabbing below her mascara smeared eye with her other wrist as she sucks in a little sniffle. “Now that you’ve served your purpose to her. It’s only a matter of time before she’s over Jack and itching for a real taste of freedom.”
This bitch always knows where to stick the knife in me and twist, but I scoff at her, pretending it’s a fear that’s never entered my thoughts. “There they are. Those true muddy colors of yours. What’s next? I’m going to lose interest in her as she heals from Jack?” Might as well beat her to the next punch.
