Page 112 of Ruthless Reign

Aodhán touched his throat with confusion in his stare, as if he hadn’t even felt the wound. He quirked a brow at me.

“Crafty,” he said with praise in his tone. “But that little trick will only work once.”

“Damien’s on his way,” Kaleb said, pocketing his phone after reading a message there. “Be ready.”

I went to hand the blade back to Aodhán with knots forming in my gut where a second ago there had been something completely different.

Aodhán took the blade and caught my wrist before I could turn away to grab my bag. “One last thing,” he said, spinning the blade between his fingers. “There are a few more places you should know about.”

“What?”

Aodhán spun me around and gripped my waist, pressing his thumb into the space just below my ribcage. His touch seared into me. “Here,” he whispered next to my ear. “You want to stab upward. It’s quick and effective and the opponent will die slow.”

He reached lower, his fingers trailing down the outside of my hip before tapping a spot on my inner thigh, a few inches above my knee. “And here. The femoral artery. You don’t have to go deep, just a good slash and they’ll bleed out in minutes.”

Why was listening to him talk about all the different ways to kill a man with this blade turning me on?

I cleared my throat, slipping from his grasp, turning to face him with a nod. My face felt hot and where the hell did I put my water bottle?

Aodhán fell back onto the couch, lifting his apple to carve another slice.

He held the piece out to me, and I didn’t even think as I took it from his fingers and folded myself onto the seat next to him as I put it in my mouth.

I was so thirsty, I needed something to quench it before I dried up like mummy sans sarcophagus.

I moaned as the first burst of tarte apple flavor filled my mouth. Before I could even swallow, Aodhán was already holding out another slice to me, and I couldn’t take it fast enough.

Fuck. It was the best apple I’d ever tasted, hands down.

When I swallowed the last bite and looked up, it was to find Hardin and Kaleb openly staring at me from across the room. I stopped licking my fingers but couldn’t seem to stop myself from wondering if there were any more apples.

“Are there any more?”

Aodhán cracked a lopsided grin that didn’t bother trying to hide his triumph at getting me to eat something.

He handed me the switchblade again. “You can carve the next one. And that’s yours now.”

I glanced between him and the blade and shook my head. “No. It was your mom’s. I can’t keep it.”

“Just hold onto it for me then, would you?”

I didn’t bother pointing out that if I did, he wouldn’t have any other weapon to use himself. From the look on his face as he got up to get me another apple, I could tell he wouldn’t be taking it back no matter what I said.

I’d give it back later. Maybe slip it into his pocket when he wasn’t paying attention. It might make him feel better knowing I had a knife on me, but it brought me no peace at all to know that he would be unarmed in the meantime.

“Hey, who’s that with Dad?” Kaleb asked, drawing my attention as he looked out the front window.

Hardin didn’t reply, but by his twitchy fingers, I could tell it was no one he recognized, either.

Aodhán returned with the second apple, but my appetite was long gone as I stood, keeping the blade out in case I might need it as Damien entered the house.

I recognized the shape of him in an instant and quickly folded the blade back and pocketed it as if I’d been caught red handed with candy instead of a murder weapon.

“Dad?”

“Found him parked outside,” was all Damien said by way of explanation as he went over to Hardin and Kaleb to go over their route. As if he didn’t just drag a giant steaming pile of trauma shit into the house and drop it right at my feet.

“Can I have a word with you outside?”

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