Page 19 of Ruthless Reign

My stomach roiled, and I dragged my gaze away, pressing my face into the crook of Kaleb’s shoulder, inhaling his cherry cigar and smooth whiskey scent to try to calm the fucking riot in my chest.

“Hey,” he shouted suddenly. I flinched and his hold on me tightened reassuringly. “Hardin. Hardin!”

“What?”

“We need one alive.”

I didn’t hear a reply from his brother, but I knew from the look I’d just seen on his face that it would be a study in control for Hardin to keep from killing the other one.

If he was even still alive.

If I hadn’t already killed him.

I’d do it again, I realized as the buzzing in my ears and the quake in my bones stilled. Did I care if the other one was dead? If I killed him?

Thinking through the adrenaline still painting sparks behind my eyelids and zapping electricity through my veins was harder than it should’ve been, but…no. I didn’t care. I wouldn’t feel guilty for saving their lives.

If I had to choose between them and anyone else, I would always choose them.

The Sons of O’Sullivan chose their deranged leader. They worked for him knowing what kind of monster he was. They chose their hill to stand on. They could die on it, too.

Kaleb rubbed a few wide circles into my back, his hand slowly coming to lie still against my lower back as he realized I wasn’t shaking anymore. “Vixen?”

Distantly, I heard the Kents talking to Hardin. Heard him say trunk, and knew we were taking at least one dead man with us to bury if not two.

“You didn’t kill him,” Kaleb assured me. “Hardin did. It wasn’t you.”

I leaned back, and Kaleb’s warm gaze analyzed every inch of my face. He lifted his sleeve to wipe what I realized was blood away from my brow, keeping it from continuing to drip into my eye. I sucked in a breath through my teeth, only now registering the sharp sting of all the tiny cuts on my face, neck, and left arm.

Shit that stings.

“I tried to honk the horn,” I found myself saying. “I tried to honk first and to call, but the horn is broken and?—”

“It doesn’t matter. You saved us, Vixen, but you didn’t kill them, okay? It wasn’t you, so you don’t have to feel guilty about?—”

“I don’t.”

Kaleb’s brows lowered, his head tipping to one side, considering my words with surprise flickering across his features.

“Why should I? They would’ve killed you. I stopped them.”

“One’s still alive,” Hardin’s brusque tone interrupted. “He’s out cold. The Kents are loading him and the corpse into the trunk.”

Kaleb nodded, and I sucked in a breath as Hardin jerked me around to face him. He took my chin between rough fingers, his rage-filled eyes darting between mine. “Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“She’s in shock,” Kaleb supplied, but Hardin shook his head, releasing my chin, but not before he ran his thumb gently over my jawline, the digit coming away red with blood.

“No she’s not,” Hardin corrected him and something like pride swelled in my chest, chasing away the rest of the fear. I felt my lips twitch up at one corner. My eyes burned.

I’d saved them.

I let myself savor it, just for a minute.

I didn’t freeze up. I didn’t cower.

I wasn’t the reason they got hurt, this time.

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