Chapter 10
VANNA
D ean flicks the latch of the heavily weighted belt around his waist, and it falls to the gym floor with a thud.
My gaze roves over his chiseled body, glistening and dripping with sweat.
I have never seen him in better, more lethal shape than I have these last few months.
Although I can appreciate his hard work and dedication, anxiety overtakes everything else I’m feeling.
“You’re really going to go through with this?”
Dean grabs the water bottle from the edge of the boxing ring and downs most of it in a few gulps.
“You know I am,” he finally says, a little out of breath from his intense workout.
“I’ve been waiting three years for this.
He might not show up in Wilmington, but it’s only a matter of time before he returns to the circuit in Myrtle Beach.
It’ll either be during Bike Week this fall or the one in early summer. But he’ll come, and when he does…”
“You know I’m not going with you to that place again.”
“I don’t want you to.” Dean runs a hand through his dark, sweat-soaked, and tousled hair, slicking it back. “I don’t want you to see me beat a man to death with my bare hands.”
To death! “ Dean…”
He lets out an agitated sigh. “I’m not actually going to kill him, Vanna… I wouldn’t risk it. Not now. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t going to get gruesome. I don’t want you to see me like that.”
Dean finishes his water while we stand in another moment of silence. After wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he asks, “Where’s Ace?”
“Out front with Viking and Cherry.”
He nods, flinging the towel over his broad shoulder. “I’m gonna hit the shower. I’ll meet you out there.”
V iking has Ace sitting on top of the bar, playing with a set of Imaginex toys he gifted him yesterday for his third birthday.
Third birthday… The years have flown by so quickly. I smile, watching them assemble the little Viking ship together.
“Uncle Viking!” Ace smiles excitedly as he picks up a blonde-bearded figurine. It really does look like it could be a toy replica of his favorite uncle.
“Throw in a few Viking women, and yes, that could be your Uncle Viking,” Cherry laughs, dabbing a bit of BBQ sauce from Ace’s cheek with a napkin.
“Can Aunt Cherry throw the rest of these half-bitten nuggets away?” she asks, moving on to collect the fast-food containers littered across the bar, courtesy of Uncle Viking, of course.
“ Uh , no,” Viking grunts, pulling the box of nuggets back from her and stuffing several in his mouth. She rolls her eyes and resumes cleaning up what mess she can before she spots me and smiles.
“Oh, hi, Vanna!”
“Hello.” I smile back.
Ace immediately spins around, his beautiful brown eyes lighting up with a big grin of his own.
“Mama!” His glee melts my heart as I walk to my baby boy.
Once I scoop him up in my arms, I can’t help but kiss his cheek and gently finger-comb his dark hair back from his forehead. Sporting the same style haircut as his father now, he looks even more like a mini version of Dean.
“Do you like the cut?” Viking asks. “I brought him to that kid barber in town. Told him to leave some length on top so you can slick it back like Dean does. I could have done it myself.”
“I’m sure. But you shave the sides of your head with a giant knife,” I say, giving him a stare that should indicate I’d never let anyone near my kid’s head with a knife.
Viking rolls his eyes. “I’m an expert, but whatever. I knew you’d freak out. That’s why I sprung for the barber.”
“Next, your Uncle Viking will be taking you to get your first tattoo!” I tease, giving Ace a little bounce in my arms.
“Yeah!” Ace excitedly shouts.
“Not until you’re at least five, buddy,” Viking jokes, cradling Ace’s face in his huge hand.
His grin broadens when Ace pouts. “Don’t give me that look.
Your momma won’t let me take you anywhere if you keep that up.
” He places his other hand briefly on my shoulder, letting me know he’s just teasing.
The only other person I’d venture to say, whose depth of love for my son might come close to my own and his father’s, is Viking’s.
I swear, the man’s best friend is my three-year-old son.
He even bought a car seat to keep in his truck, just for Ace.
When Ace was a baby, Viking carried around his own diaper bag, fully loaded with everything a child could possibly need. Granted, it was leather, but still.
The sound of the Twisted Throttle’s steel door bursting open has all of us turning toward the entrance. Viking instinctively steps in front of Ace and I, but it’s only Viper.
“Turn on the news!” Viper insists as he rushes to join us by the bar.
Cherry immediately grabs the remote and flips to our local station. Old news footage of Kelly’s Tavern plays on the widescreen TV mounted to the brick wall. A continuous banner along the bottom of the screen reads: “Missing Carolina teen found.”
“Oh shit,” Viking says.
“That’s such wonderful news!” Cherry adds.
“What is?” Dean asks, freshly showered and wearing his normal biker attire now. He emerges from the corridor and comes to stand by my side.
“That girl who went missing a few years ago, she’s been found,” Cherry says, turning to Dean with a soft smile.
The expression in her eyes as she looks at my husband…
I understand it now. He’ll always be her hero.
The man who rescued her from the hell of human trafficking.
They share a brief moment before Dean lifts his gaze to the flat screen once more.
The news anchor goes on to say all they know right now is that Cassidy Jones is home, receiving medical attention, and there will be a press conference tomorrow with more details.
She goes on to report several more meth lab explosions occurring over the last few days, and I’m suddenly aware of my heart beating faster.
“Gotta be honest, aside from an eventual memorial service… I never expected to hear a word about her again.” Viper sighs, as if ashamed of losing hope.
“I don’t think any of us did,” Viking concurs. “It’s been over three years since she went missing.”
Viper looks contemplative for a moment, turning to Dean. “You don’t suppose the CDMC actually did have something to do with her disappearance, do you? She went missing around the time they really started gearing up.”
“Will you take Ace for a few?” I say, twisting to hand our son to Dean. “I just want to use the restroom before we head home for dinner.”
Dean one-arms our son against his side, studying me with curious concern. I walk to the bathroom before he can ask what’s wrong…
I don’t know what’s wrong . All I know is what I feel, and I feel like I’m about to have a full-blown panic attack.
After turning on the sink faucet, I splash my face with the cold water, hoping to quell these conflicted, unexpected emotions.
Two things have secretly plagued my mind these last few years, one being the truth behind Cassidy’s disappearance. Had Dean been right all along? Was she trafficked? Was the other person who has haunted my thoughts in some way responsible?
I splash my face again as the image of Legion’s pain-ridden grey eyes flashes in my mind. I asked him that terrible night if he had been behind her disappearance…if it had been a Chrome Demon that took the young girl.
He never answered my question...
“ A ce is finally asleep,” I say, walking back into the living room where Vanna is seated on the couch with Nico in her lap.
“That took several bedtime stories, by the way. I suspect he was trying to stay up, waiting for you … You wanna tell me what’s been up with you since we left the roadhouse?
Ace isn’t the only one who picked up on your demeanor. He gets that from me , you know.”
Vanna smiles softly up at me, though she doesn’t speak.
I take a seat beside her. Nico jumps off her lap, leaps over the back of the couch, and heads down the hall toward Ace’s room.
Since the first night our son came home with us, Nico traded his favorite sleeping spot on one of the chess table chairs to take up the role of guardian in Ace’s room.
Now he either sleeps curled up at Ace’s feet or on the cushioned rocking chair beside the toddler bed.
“Are you upset about Myrtle Beach?” I know she’s got bigger concerns now. Hell, we both do. I want to hope I’m wrong, that this doesn’t mean what I’m sure we both already know it probably does . “That could still be months away.” I cling to the temporary bliss denial offers for another few moments.
Despite the fallout of Legion’s attacks, these last three years have been the best years of my life, wrapped up in the warmth of contentment with my wife and son.
Their smiling faces, the love we share within these walls…
a comforting buffer against the harsher truths lingering just beyond our happy life…
Denial makes it possible to shove aside unsettling truths.
Happiness can act as an inviting haze, obscuring the less appealing aspects of life.
As much as I want to cling to denial, we both know what is rolling into our lives like a dark storm cloud…
Though maybe smoke is a more fitting depiction.
“I’m sure that has something to do with it,” Vanna reluctantly replies.
“What else might?”
She bites her lower lip, brows pulling together and pitching upward. “I’m not even sure how to say this.”
I already know what she’s thinking. Who she’s thinking about… I knew it was only a matter of time before he returned to disrupt our bliss. He swore as much, the night I should have put a bullet between his cold, grey eyes…put an end to his fucking mind games.
The gifts he’s sent since his disappearance…
black roses, of course, have shown up at the house sporadically over the last few years.
I’ve managed to intercept all thirteen of them.
When that shit started, I had our home address blacklisted from every florist within a fifty-mile radius and diverted deliveries to my repair shop.
To this day, she remains unaware of his attempts to reach her from afar.
“Just say it, Vanna.” I sigh at the inevitability of the situation.
“Legion...” she whispers, as if speaking the name of this particular devil might actually summon his physical presence to our door. I’ve been happy, having not heard that name from her lips in quite a while. “He was there the night we were married… That lighter we found…”
“You think I didn’t realize it was his?” A scoff escapes me. “Of course, I did. I wasn’t about to let him ruin our wedding by acknowledging it. You seemed to share the sentiment that night.”
She slowly nods, before her brows knit fretfully together again. “What happens now?”
“I protect what’s mine.”
She swallows. “What does that entail?”
“Whatever it takes.”
“Dean…”
“Every promise I’ve ever made you, Vanna, will always stand firm.”
She lets out another weary sigh, closing her eyes. “I have a distinct feeling you’re referencing a specific promise.”
Taking her hand, I stand up from the couch and pull her up with me, into my arms. Wrapping her in my embrace, I press a kiss to her petal-soft lips.
“You’re mine, Vanna,” I whisper against them. “If another man touches you, I’ll kill him.”