“What store?” Ezekiel asks.
Laughing, I rub my fingers down my thighs to rid them of the crumbs. “Why, are you going to kill him for me?” I say it without thought. He doesn’t speak, just stares at me with such force, it steals the air from the room. Yes, he would.
“You should go lay down on one of the beds,” I say, changing the subject. I don’t need another death on my conscience.
Silence.
“You need rest if you’re going to heal up,” I try, pointing to his wounds.
Furrowing his brow, he jerks his attention to my mom. “That shit I dosed her with will wear off in a few hours. We can’t risk her waking before us.”
Getting to my feet, I screw the lid back on the bottle of wine to show him I’m done at the one glass. It was cheap. If I had more, it may strip my stomach lining. “I’ll stay awake. We can take shifts.” A sneer curls his lips as he watches her. “You need to rest, Ez, I’ll be fine. I promise.”
“Come get me when she wakes up. We’ll switch out.” He nods, shifting to his feet. There’s no wince or sign of pain as he gets up, just a rigid posture, and his jaw is so tense, it could crack his teeth.
“Okay,” I lie. If she does wake up, I won’t get him. There’s no way I could leave him alone with her. I tolerate her because I have to. He doesn’t and wouldn’t. It’s a miracle he hasn’t already killed her.
As he brushes past me, I grab his wrist, halting him. His gaze drops to my hand then lifts to mine. “Thank you. For everything you did today,” I tell him. He doesn’t speak, just watches me. “And for not killing her. I know it’s hard for you to be around her,” I add. Before our conversation tonight, I hadn’t thought about what memories it could trigger for him listening to how she is with me.
“If you’re ever ready for that step, I’ll do it for you in a heartbeat,” he tells me, the pad of his thumb stroking against the pulse in my wrist, sending a shiver up my spine. A warm flutter flickers in my chest.
“I know. Thank you.” It’s fucked up to be thanking a man who’s offering to kill your mother, but it’s not the act, it’s the thought behind it. He wants to free me. It’s who he is. Death and carnage is his life. Releasing him, I stand in the hallway long after he disappears into Lily’s grandparents’ room.
Is it wrong to understand a man who can kill without remorse? Worse than that—is it wrong to want him? Something inside me wants to crawl inside him and live there, in the safety he offers.
Chapter Twelve
Carnage
I don’t like leaving Ruby out there with her mother but exhaustion has left me weak. I need to recoup and make a plan.
Fever dreams pull me in and out of sleep, my body burning up and cold at the same time. I fucking hate feeling fragile, vulnerable. We need to find a better place to lay low. Somewhere with supplies and medication. Once I get back to full health, I’m going to destroy the fuckers who did this and find out who the traitor is in our club. Cut chunks out of him bit by fucking bit until I have the answers I need. Ruby will never be safe until they’ve all paid in blood. Usually, I wouldn’t give a shit about collateral damage, but I feel a pull, a connection I’ve never felt before, even in the small amount of time I’ve spent with her. It’s not just because she’s beautiful and my cock wants inside her. She is and it does, but there’s something else, something more. I see parts of myself in her, the broken pieces. That’s not all she is, though. She hasn’t let those dark, damaged parts infect and corrupt her. Hasn’t allowed the toxic energy her mother seeps bleed into her. She’s strong, resilient, smart, caring. And fucking mine to protect. I owe her.
“Fuck you.” A wretched wail roars, almost vibrating the walls, followed by something smashing. I’m up and at the door in a second, my head fuzzy and breathing labored. I don’t know how long I’ve been in and out of sleep, but it’s been long enough that the drugs have worn off.
“It’s medicine, Ruby. You need to get me something,” that disgusting excuse for a human hollers.
“We can’t leave to score drugs, Mom. People are looking for us,” Ruby replies. They’re in the kitchen a couple feet away, their voices raised. The neighbor's house is a good forty feet away but we still need to be careful not to draw attention—especially with the bodies in the basement.