A Promise of Torment (A Violent Agenda)

DANTE

The last place I want to be is in a sports car with some prick who can’t drive behind the wheel, but Lorcan refused to get into my Mustang, so here we are.

He keeps glancing at me, wary, like I might attack him at any moment.

It’s almost comical.

“Do you love her,” he eventually says. I stare at him for a few minutes trying to understand what the hell he’s saying. “I’m not speaking Irish, mate. I asked you a fucking question.”

I don’t understand what she sees in him, but I’ll humor her while she goes through this phase.

If I fucking must.

“Love is an illusion,” I say finally.

Lorcan snorts. “Fucking idiot. You have no idea what you have with her, do you?”

I clench my jaw and then force myself to relax it, cracking my neck to get the ache out. “And you do? Didn’t you drop her the moment things got difficult?”

Lorcan’s gaze hardens, and his hands tighten on the steering wheel, but he doesn’t say anything else. That seems to have shut the little prick up.

The address Griffin gave Lorcan is on the other side of the county, but I see it as soon as we get a few miles in—a reflection of the streetlights on the paintwork dipping in and out indicating someone is tailing us.

I glance in the rearview mirror again, just to be sure. “We’re being followed,” I say to Lorcan.

He frowns and looks to where my gaze is locked. After a few seconds, he sees it too. “Son of a bitch.”

“I know this area,” I say. “There’s a turning into a farm up ahead, once you get around the corner take it and turn everything off.”

Lorcan does as I tell him, and we wait in darkness and silence for the car with no headlights to move past.

“Why the fuck would…”

“V’s in trouble,” I say.

“We should go back,” he says. I don’t argue with him. “I’ll kill Adrien myself,” he mutters as he starts the car.

V can also handle herself. I know. I trained her. Although lately, she’s gotten sloppy. She’s making mistakes like she’s seeking them out. I brought her back to end this, but she’s hesitating. Rebecca is an excuse. She knows that and so do I. I’ve let this go on much too long.

Adrien needs to go.

I was hoping V would have gotten her shit together by now and dealt with him.

I pick up my phone as Lorcan drives back the way we came. There are a lot of unread messages. Just seeing them makes my skin crawl and my fingers itch to read them, but the moment I do, my clients expect me to respond. If I’m unavailable, I’m working—on a job. That’s the rule I keep with them. And it works when I’m on top of things.

Goddammit.

Her disorder is creeping into my domain. I need to end this so that I can move forward. I ignore them all and find her number and call it.

After a minute it goes through to voicemail.

Lorcan glances at me. “She picking up?”

“No,” I say. But that doesn’t mean anything.

“So, what’s the plan?”

I stare straight ahead, feeling the pressure building inside my chest. The familiar pull whenever V is involved. I look over at Lorcan who seems to be waiting for me to take the lead.

“Pull over,” I say when I see my car on the side of the road. I get out, pop open the trunk and take out the case filled with guns. Then I get back in his car.

“The plan is”—I open the case to check I have everything I need, then I close it, shooting a look at Lorcan—“we kill them all.”