Page 232 of Savior
“Despite your promise to me, Vanna?!” his pained expression makes me feel like I truly betrayed him. “You promised me! Why would you break your word to me, for him?”
“To protect you.”
He slumps back in the chair, shaking his head at me with dismay.
“That’s all I was trying to do… I even brought one of your guns.”
“The fuck were you thinking, woman? You’re pregnant… Fucking pregnant!” he shouts once more, this time thrusting himself up out of the chair and stepping directly up to me. “It’s my job to protect you and this baby!”
“It had to be me… Legion knows you will kill him on sight. He wouldn’t tell anyone else what I know now.” I say quickly, and continue before he can interrupt me again. “He’s been watching you, Dean. For a really long time. Since before you even realize. Before you and I even met. Long before that night the Demons showed up in your lot.”
“Why would he tell you anything? He has to know you’d run back to me with this information.”
“He does know. He wants me to tell you.” I say. Dean’s eyes narrow as they continue to search mine. “He told me that he’s spent the last years rigging your life to implode, but that everything’s changed now.”
“Right… And just what did you have to do, for him to be so forthcoming?”
I can’t help scowling back at him. “I didn’t fuck him if that’s what you’re implying!” His jaw tenses and I let out an exasperated sigh. “Can we focus on the important thing here? Legion is claiming he’s no longer your enemy, that he’s working for us now!”
“He’s a liar. He’s a manipulator. He’s an orchestrator of death and destruction, and you’re letting him into this relationship to destroy us!”
“Do you hear yourself? You sound crazy!”
“I am fucking crazy, Vanna! About you! And you fucking lied to me to go be with him!” he shouts, his hand raking almost violently through his hair again, before he grabs the back of his neck. His other fist is balled at his side, as if he wants to hit something… or someone. He’s been drinking, but I still don’t think he’d ever hit me.
“Be with him? I was trying to end this!” I shout back. “It really was Legion that burned down the shop. But he did it to push me closer to you. Because he knows I’m safest the closer I am to you.” For a moment, Dean looks surprised by my words. “That’s right,” I continue, “It was Legion that broke into Laura’s shop and relit that candle. It was Legion who used it to burn down The Ametrine Cauldron and made it look like an accident. He said, they knew, I was most vulnerable at my job, because it’s the furthest from you, I ever am. He said it was to look like retaliation for the Demons’ Den, but that his true motive was because he wanted to push me closer to you, because he wants you to protect me.”
“He wants me to protect you?” Dean looks as if he’s astounded by Legion’s audacity. “He wants me to protect you!”
“Yes, Dean… he swore to me that he’s no longer your enemy, but that there is an enemy that wants to hurt us both.” I say. “An enemy that would kill him too, as soon as they would us, if they knew he turned.”
“No one is going to hurt you.” He growls.
“I know.” I sigh. “Legion swore he wouldn’t let anything happen to me either.”
“Legion swore…” Dean scoffs, glaring at me once more as he shakes his head. “This could all be part of his plan, Vanna. A trap you’re walking right into, again!”
“If he wanted to hurt me, or keep me for himself, he didn’t have to let me go tonight.”
“Don’t.” he glares at me, shaking his head as he takes a step back from me. “Don’t fucking do it, Vanna… Don’t make me feel like this… Listening to you defend him… Fuck! What is it you think you see in him? Is this some kind of misguided attempt to save another broken man?”
“What? No.”
“I know you blame yourself for what happened with Jack… Is Legion your way of finding forgiveness for yourself? Save him, and you somehow find redemption for yourself? Vanna, Jack deserved what happened to him. You’re the victim. Not him. Not Legion.”
“This has nothing to do with Jack.” I insist.
Dean nods, then lets out another scoff that borders more along the lines of a strangled sob. His hand gravitates to his chest, his fingers digging into the muscle beneath his shirt. “In a way, that’s fucking worse… For me, anyhow. I could have wrapped my head around that… But now…” His voice nearly breaks. “Now I know you feel something for him.”
“You’re wrong about that, too!” I shout at him.
He turns from me, grabbing the bottle of Jameson before he sits back in the leather arm chair. “Perhaps, the lady doth protest too much.” Dean mutters, then takes a decent swig from it, forgoing the shot glass altogether now. Wiping his mouth with the back of his other hand, he stares at me for a moment, before he speaks again. “I’m fairly certain the remaining contents of this bottle won’t be enough to kill the pain I’m about to bring upon myself, but… I have to know, or it’ll eat me alive.” He says, his hand clutching the bottle as it dangles in his grip over the arm of the chair. He studies me for a moment, before he asks, “Has he touched you?”
“Not how you’re implying.” I snap.
“He kissed you?” It’s a question, though the way he says the words, so flatly, it sounds more like a statement.
I let out a sigh, heavy with regret, knowing full well, no matter what I say, this isn’t going to go over well. “I punched him for it, Dean… Right in the jaw. I hit him as hard as I could. So hard, I hurt my hand.”
