Deviant Vows by Anna Widzisz
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The past; Davina
I don’t need to call for backup – not that anyone would even show up if I asked. After all, I’ve been in this all alone from the very beginning. Because no one – other than my uncle who cannot really do anything about it – believes me. So I made a plan which I’ve been going over in my head time and time again for the last four years.
I demand revenge. I need justice.
If I’m not going to take it myself, no one will in my stead. Though I’m my own person and I need no man to do the dirty work for me. It’s no longer in me. It’s no longer who I am.
So I tighten my fists in those fingerless leather gloves and walk up the stairs of the Quarter. I’ve already dealt with the security. Thank fuck for the mobsters being stupid motherfuckers who only care to show how powerful they are, playing on their egos. Because they come alone to those meetings with only two people always guarding the front entrance for any unwanted guests.
My cheeks get warmer with each step I take and my heart starts beating wicked fast. I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time. Training every single day for hours on end. The only good thing that my father has done is let me learn how to fight by one of his people. And even better that it was an assassin who didn’t mind teaching me how to play dirty.
Dirty is what I need. What I crave.
What I’m good at.
As I go past a stony statue of the fallen angel, I hear male voices. They show me exactly where to head. They are leading me to their own deaths.
I walk onto the balcony from which I have a perfect view of the table around which there are seven people sitting. All of them are wearing expensive suits, drinking alcohol and smoking cigars. This looks more like a meeting of friends who haven’t seen each other in a long time than one that they discuss business at.
My eyes fall upon the one person who isn’t supposed to be here. Jacob Fiennes – Taylor’s father. He is retired so it doesn’t make sense for him to be attending this meeting. To be here in the Quarter. Yet here he is behind the table with that disgusting smirk on his face, listening to his son who is now speaking.
I don’t care enough to hear the details. It’s not something I’m interested in. All I want is their blood. Every single one of them.
I draw the guns from behind the waist of my jeans, making sure they are loaded. I don’t want any surprises today. That’s not what I’ve been planning. Then I quietly walk over to the stairs. They are so focused on the conversation that none of them looks up. If they did, they’d see me without a problem.
I’m no longer hiding. I’m done with it. As I see Eric Coldwell raising his hand, I aim at it and release the bullet. It goes through his palm and I watch him crash on the floor from the strain. My eyes fire with excitement. The resentment crawls up my throat and I slowly walk down, seeing as they all take out their guns.
They’re not firing.
And I knew they wouldn’t. Because, after all, I am a girl.
My eyes meet Taylor's, who is perhaps the only one not that shocked by my presence. No wonder. I’ve spent years having to be around him. Having to deal with his touch and all the lies he’s been spreading around my family. To the point where no one could tell that I’ve been telling the truth all along. So I made sure to hint at him that the vengeance will be sweet.
I know he knew. He just didn’t believe I’d have the guts to go through with it.
But, as I said, I’m no longer hiding.
No one is going to save me and, as all the men sitting here failed to keep me innocent, they don’t deserve to be alive either.
“Davina, for goodness' sake, what are you doing here?” I hear Jacob Fiennes asking as he’s the first one to lower the weapon. A bad move.
I don’t let him finish, firing in his foot.
Another one is down, crying like a motherfucking girl. Honestly, Liverpool turns women into men and those idiots in fucking pussies. I roll my eyes, stopping on the last step. They are still not firing, even when two of their men are down. Not yet dead, though.
“I came to see it with my own eyes. That meeting the fuss is all about. Do you even discuss the business?” I ask. “Do you even know what you’re doing here? Who you are supposed to protect and how?”
Landon Rainforth hits the table with his fist. He’s always been the one with a temper. His kill list is longer than the Bible itself. Not that any of those fuckers even read the Bible. They just like pretending that everything they do is in the name of God.
Well... I’m a very good example of why it’s nothing but a lie.
“What the fuck do you want, girl?”
Another shot. This time I aim at Rainforth’s shoulder.
None of them is used to pain.
I laugh bitterly. “You’re all always hiding behind your soldiers, and probably don’t even know their names. Pathetic losers who can only talk a big game but hide when things get tough.” I look at Taylor. “Or worse. Lie.”
Not to waste any more time, I fire quickly at each of the men, knocking the guns out of their hands. Then, before they realise what’s going on, I run to take them all from their reach. Ever since they have called the truce, they are barely ever armed to the teeth. At least not like before. So it appeared easy to do what I did.
Especially because I am a girl.
A good reason to be one right now. Because they have this fucked up reasoning that girls can do no harm. They are just slaves to men’s desires, worthy of warming their beds and pushing kids out of their vaginas. Never question them when they go to work and come in the morning with lipstick stains all over their collars. When they no longer stick their filthy dicks in unless to try for another heir.
No, strippers and sex workers are better. They aren’t needy.
Or so they think.
That’s why they deserve all the shit I’m about to serve them.
“Now, when we have all the weapons out of our reach, sit your stupid asses on those chairs,” I order. My voice low, dangerous. Thanks to Taylor, I can barely speak without damaging my vocal cords more. It’s a miracle I can speak at all. So I tend not to waste my words.
Today, I just might. Because I want to show them who they really fucking are.
I step on Coldwell’s palm and he yells so loudly I barely hold myself back from shooting him between the eyes right here, right now. “I said something. The next shots will be in your hearts otherwise.” I hold the gun to Jones’s chest, showing that I'm not kidding. And he sees it in my eyes because even despite being in pain they all crawl to their chairs.
Perfect. My own house of puppets. Just for me to play. To do whatever I desire.
“Stop it, Davina,” Taylor finally says. “Don’t be childish.”
I laugh loudly, holding my stomach from how much it hurts. “I learnt from the best.” I lean behind him with the barrel brushing his temple. Though, I am careful to monitor everything that’s going on around me. “Children lie, don’t they?”
“What do you want, Davina?” Taylor’s father asks again.
“Good question.” I come up to him. “I want your son to come clean right here about what happened four years ago in my bedroom.”
No one says a word which only shows me they don’t know anything.
“You have no proof of anything happening. You’re sick, Davina. We are your family. We just want you to be better.”
“Which is exactly why you raped me? Why you threatened that no one is going to believe me when I tried to run away from you to my parents? Why you slit my throat?” I touch the scar under my chin. A perfect reminder of who I am. “And I’m not Davina. I’m Nyx,” I say proudly. Right now this nickname is everything I have. It will be what I’m going to be remembered by.
I hide one of the guns and pull out a knife. Then I take a few steps back from the directors and slide the knife over to Jacob with my boot. “Take it and whenever your son doesn’t answer, you stab it in some part of his body. Make it painful. Otherwise, you’ll get the bullet somewhere even more painful.”
I’m done playing.
“Don’t be ridiculous. My father won’t hurt me.” Taylor sighs.
“Maybe,” I shrug. “But something tells me he values his life more.” It wasn’t my plan before, but it is now.
Jacob doesn’t hesitate and grips the knife. Just like I thought he would. Family means nothing to either of them. It’s do or die all around. It’s always do or fucking die.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Taylor seethes through his teeth.
“Answer the questions and we just might get out of here alive.”
“Enough!” Linwood and Laidley get up and run towards me. It leaves me no choice. So I aim and soon they are both on the floor with holes in their skulls. Right between the eyes. Bullseye.
“I’ve trained,” I tell them proudly. They watch the bosses bleed out at their feet with terrifying expressions. Now they are taking me seriously. “Now, where were we?”
“I’ll give you money. However much you want. Just leave,” Coldwell tries to persuade me. As if I’m so easy to silence. As if I’m here for the money.
“You can fucking shove that dirty money up your arse, Eric.”
I glance at Taylor who is no longer thinking I won’t do it. He’s no longer going to laugh. Though, he doesn’t know what’s waiting for him. Whether he’s going to answer the questions or not. He’s not going to drop dead without feeling what I’ve felt. He’s going to die knowing that he’s done evil.
And I’ll be laughing.
“Why did you come to my room that night, Taylor?”
“You came to me.”
I gesture at Jacob with the gun and he rams the knife through his son’s arm. So much for father’s love, right? A loud cry escapes Taylor’s lips. Bloody music to my ears.
“Right, let’s try again. Why did you come to my room that night?”
“To fuck you. Your sister was too meek and I was bored. She was no fun.”
I can barely hear it and not let tears escape my eyes. But I hold on the best I can. They all have to know what happened. It’s not for me. It’s for all the directors to realise who they let into the garden. A fucking snake, that’s who.
“And what did you do then?”
“I fucked you rough. Just like I wanted to for a long time.” Sick fuck.
I see the horror on Jacob’s face, though I’m pretty sure it’s because of the confession being said out loud rather than the nightmare I endured. None of the other directors seems to care. So I grip the gun harder and pull the trigger on Jones.
Another one down.
“Did I want it?” I ask, swallowing a huge lump in my throat. It’s getting in my head. It’s becoming too much to handle.
He shakes his head. “No.”
“No,” I repeat. “And yet you did it anyway. You raped me as if I was no one. As if you’re a king who can could whatever he wanted because we all served you. Even lie to everyone. Make me seem like a mental person in my family’s eyes.”
Taylor snorts. “Your sister knew. She just didn’t care.”
I thought as much from the beginning. Which is why I have no respect towards her at all. “She just wanted a kid. This is why she was quiet. Not because of you, Taylor,” I tell him, gesturing at his father.
He pulls the knife out of the arm and rams it in his thigh.
“But she’s just a stupid girl. I’m glad my parents chose her for you. At least she can take your cock without throwing up at how ugly it is. Or look at your disgusting pedophilic face.”
He’s breathing heavily.
I shoot at Rainforth’s heart and he’s dead.
“Slash his throat, Jacob. But be careful not to go deep. I’m not done with him,” I order and, with a slight hesitation, he does it. I watch the blood run from the wound. It’s shallow. Nothing compared to what Taylor did to me, but it’s the beauty of this situation.
I’ll do it all myself in a little bit.
I glance at Eric Coldwell. “I just wanted you all to hear it. That’s all. You’re just not worthy of the positions you have.” And with those words, I shoot him as well.
I straighten, smiling widely at the two men I’m left with.
“Jacob, bind your son with the rope,” I say, walking up to the huge curtain and pull down the rope that has been holding it tightly.
I had a plan, though it seems like I’m winging it today after all.
The man does what I asked him to. Still, no guilt over causing his son pain.
Pathetic. Really bloody pathetic.
“Sit back down,” I order him, and quickly, I tie him up as well at a safe distance from his son. Then I lean close to his ear. “I’ll be right back. I want you to meet my friends.”
With that, I go out just to come back from my car with the ten dogs my father has been so kind to train to kill. The same ones I learnt to tame. So now they only listen to me.
A smirk pulls up on my lips.