Point Proven (The Violent Oaths Trilogy #2)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

SIMON

Dishes crashed, breaking apart the monotonous atmosphere as I wadded up the napkin next to me, chucking it at a slightly spiraling Liam.

Loud, unpredictable noises caused him to recoil, and I knew it was my fault. Each one reminded him of that land mine, of that fateful day that sent us into each other’s arms. While it had brought us closer, it had also caused irreparable damage to his mental state.

I wasn’t entirely sane either, my personality leaning into obnoxious comments and humor to cope with what we’d gone through. It was, as my therapist would say, “detrimental to my healing,” and I should “let myself feel my emotions.”

Utter bullshit, but Liam thought it was good to attend the shrew, so I went. It wasn’t that I hated it; it just didn’t offer much comfort.

Not like Liam did.

He was everything, and our time living together had increased the need for him—a billowing devotion I would never let go.

Clearing my throat, I threaded my fingers through his. “Hey, you’re eating at a diner with me. We’re not there, okay?”

He loosened a sigh, rubbing his other hand across his thigh—a nervous habit I was more than familiar with. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

“I know you know, but I’m right here. And you’re sitting next to my good leg. Good vibes, you know?” Winking, I hoped it eased the tension in his shoulders and the knitting of those bushy brows.

He rolled his eyes, the corner of his mouth curling. “Oh Christ, Simon.”

“Annnnd, we are meeting Thorne and Oren, so it’s bound to be entertaining. Way more fun than the burnt toast we’re about to receive.”

Craning his head back toward me, he shook his head. “The bread is good with strawberry jam. Stop being mean. And besides, at least burnt toast shows up on time. Unlike some people.”

“I’m not being mean; it’s just… extra crunchy.” Squeezing his hand, I rested my other on his thigh. “They’re always late because they fuck like rabbits. I mean—”

“Children.” He swatted at my chest. “There are children.”

“Well, obviously someone had to fuck if there are children. Freedom of speech, Liam.”

Drawing a dramatic breath, his coffee-colored irises found mine. “You are going to give me an aneurysm.”

“Oh, shush. Look. I’ll prove it.”

Twisting toward the table next to us, both kids were already staring at me. Grinning, I waved, enjoying this opportunity as both parents were too busy on their phones. “You. You’re like what, eight?”

The kid nodded, blue eyes wide as his sister crossed her arms over her chest, unimpressed.

“You know what the word fuck is, right?”

Liam tugged on my shoulder. “Simon.”

“I mean, yeah,” the girl muttered, but the boy just locked eyes with me, and I kind of felt… bad.

“Well, uh, enjoy your burnt brunch,” I said before shifting back against the seat. Folding my hands over the table, I focused on my cup. “I mean, I was correct, but maybe you were right, Liam.”

I caught the smile on his lips from my peripheral, a stifled chuckle quickly following. Dipping his face into the crook of his arm, his laughter built, something so inherently hilarious that I must’ve missed it.

Or he was cackling at me.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’ve never…” Struggling to pull himself together, he spat the rest out between huffed chuckles. “I’ve never seen you shut down so fast. And by a kid?”

“Well, he had this piercing stare, you know? It wasn’t…” At his continued laughter, I poked his side. “Oh, shush!”

“Ah, stop!” he squealed, trying to shift away from me, only for the wall to prevent his escape. “It was your fucking puppy dog face. You looked so shot down.”

“Puppy dog face?” Tickling him, a grin spread, permeating through the unease I felt. “Now you’re trapped, sunshine.”

He panted, his foot slamming into the bar beneath the table, but his smile never died. “Ah, ah… Stop, fuck. I can’t breathe.”

Laughing, I raised my hands in surrender. He wasn’t in that place anymore, and that’s all that mattered as I looked at his beautiful face.

“Mhm, you say that often, but I know you don’t mean it. Not really,” I mused, gliding my tongue along my bottom lip.

“Good fucking God,” the rasped voice came from my left, belonging to none other than our former commander. “I could hear you two from the front of the fucking restaurant.”

Oren mused, “And I thought I was loud. We’re not even fucking, and it’s—”

“See? Oren understands.”

Liam went to retort, but the mom from the table over finally scoffed. “Where are people’s manners nowadays?”

Thorne’s head jutted over his shoulder, his brows raising in annoyance. “And where are people’s parenting skills? I’d recommend you keep playing Candy Crush, Karen. I’m not in the mood today.”

The girl from earlier blushed, preteen now wannabe woman as she whispered, “That’s… fuck. Hot.”

“Oh God,” Liam muttered, his thumb and forefinger quick to massage his eyes. “Here we go.”

“And Miss ‘girl with the unibrow and mismatched clothes’ can mind her fucking business,” Oren snapped, practically shoving Thorne into the booth without glancing at his newest threat.

Stifling a cough, I covered my mouth with my palm to hide the smile that threatened to bloom. “Wow… Hello to you both, too.”

Oren rolled his eyes, but that undeniable grin was bleeding through his facade. “Hello to you too. And really, the place with burnt toast?”

Pointing at him, the validation was immediate as I tapped Liam’s arm. “Ha. Told you!”

“God, shut up.” The reply fell simultaneously from Liam and Thorne, the latter continuing, “There’s too much we have to talk about. It’s too fucking early and not late enough for liquor. Can we get a move on?”

“This is why they invented coffee, but sure, what’s going on?”

Wrapping my arm around Liam’s shoulders, I pulled him close, the warmth of his body a never-ending addiction. Thorne mirrored my shift, glancing down at his other half.

“Man purse. Please and thanks.”

“God, can you stop calling—”

Uncontrollable laughter spewed, knee knocking into wood at the phrase coming from him. “Oh fucking God, a man purse? You called it…” I couldn’t stop, hunching over as my palm slapped against the table.

“I said what I said.” Merely shrugging, Thorne gestured with two fingers. “Man purse, dove.”

Brightening at the pet name, it was like literal sunshine was injected into his veins as he set the “man purse” in front of him. That elated look didn’t dissipate as he hooked his arm around Thorne’s, scooting as close as possible.

Pointing at the bag, Liam piped up from beside me. “That’s a satchel, Thorne.”

“That’s what I said, but he says it’s a purse,” Oren huffed, tapping it once. “And, God forbid I suggest he carry it. I think he’d look perfect with it. Well, I mean, he looks great with anything or without anything on, too.”

“Too bad Strip Uno ended early. Still not fair that you all saw everything and plotted my demise,” I muttered.

Rubbing my thumb over Liam’s knee, he dipped his head to rest against my shoulder.

His closeness was something I continually craved, a blessing in my life I would never tire of.

It was once something I thought I’d never experience, but now, by the grace of whatever, it’d become second nature.

There had always been an intense longing between us, but I’d been afraid to take that step until them.

Thorne and Oren had shaped my confidence, and their love had given ours hope. Not that I would ever tell them that, but it was their candidness that cracked my resolve to give Liam the devotion he always deserved.

“Still pouting about it?” Thorne teased, reaching into Oren’s satchel to retrieve whatever he’d been harboring. Without giving me a chance to reply, he slapped a handful of manila folders onto the table. “As much as we miss your pecker, Simon, we need to chat business.”

Brushing my fingers over the folders, I gave Liam a reassuring squeeze. “And what exactly is business?”

“We came across some fucked shit,” Thorne started, flipping the first file open. “Seems Andrew Valen’s illegal interests went far deeper than merely selling guns, artillery, and government information.”

“Like what?”

Andrew had always been a terrible man, but for the corruption to be even worse than we already knew?

“Child trafficking and black market schemes.” He slid the photographs toward us, and I felt Liam tense beside me.

Glancing at them, a rolling nausea settled in my stomach at the amount of evidence Thorne had collected. It was infuriating that this had been going on the entire time we worked with him.

“This… This is insane.”

Squeezing Liam’s thigh, I rubbed over the space to keep him here.

These kinds of topics were difficult for him, more than others, because he had more empathy than the average person.

He wasn’t sensitive, just deeply caring.

It made him emotionally aware, but it was also sometimes a detriment to his sanity.

Leg bouncing, his jaw feathered as he turned to me. “I’m going to run to the bathroom really quickly, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, sunshine.”

Slipping from the table, he exited as I sat down on the leather seat once more. Blowing out a breath, I glanced back at Thorne and Oren. If Liam didn’t return in a few minutes, I would check on him.

“This is only the surface of all the bullshit, Simon.” Thorne raked a hand through his dark hair. It’d grown since we were in the ranks, and part of me wondered if he kept it that way because a special someone preferred it. “And because of that, Oren and I came to a consensus.”

“Consensus?”

He dipped his chin once with a curt nod. “We are starting an organization to dismantle this from the inside out, and we want to offer you and Liam a position alongside us.”