Page 119 of Ruthless Reign

Mo mhuirnín.

I ran. Ignoring the fumble in my steps. The aching in my skull.

I slipped through the gap, head on a swivel.

“Becca!”

I followed the blood trail, shouting again. “Becca!”

“I’m here!”

The sound of a palm cracking against a cheek.

Dead. They were already dead for touching her.

I followed the sound of her voice, taking a left on the next street to find the Son she’d stabbed trying to stuff her into the trunk of a car. Further up the road, a group of civilians were gathering, shouting, their phones on record or to their ears.

In the distance, blue and red lights.

“Aodhán!”

I didn’t use the gun or its last bullet. I wanted to take his death with my bare fucking hands. He dropped her into the trunk and was too slow to turn around before I got my hands on him, wrenching his head sharply to the right until I felt the snap of his spinal column and tossed him to the ground.

My eyes stung and something in my chest ached like I’d been shot as I carefully helped her from the trunk with numb fingers.

“Mo mhuirnín,” my voice cracked. “Mo mhuirnín, are you hurt?”

I cupped her face in my palms, analyzing her for injury.

There was a fresh bruise coming in on her right cheek and some blood splattered on her collar, but I didn’t think it was hers.

“I-I don’t think so.” She swallowed, the fear in her deep brown eyes shifting as she pulled out of my grip to turn and kick the dead Son.

“Fucking.” Kick. “Asshole.” Kick.

I pulled her back to me without thinking, my fingers burying themselves in the soft hair at the nape of her neck as I pressed my lips to hers.

She’s okay.

They didn’t take her.

I’d never let them take her.

She made a sound halfway between a whimper and a moan and I felt the echo of it in my throat as she kissed me back.

She kissed me back.

There was a pounding in my chest that I felt all the way to my fingertips. It hurt. It hurt in the most agonizingly perfect way.

When I drew back, her eyes searched mine for something I hoped she could find.

Past her, I saw the others standing on the other side of the parked transport. Hardin’s whole body seemed to expand with each of his heavy breaths, but there was only relief on his face. Kaleb’s parted lips closed, and he gave me a terse nod. The other Saints were more preoccupied with the slowly growing crowd down the road, and the approaching police.

Becca turned to see what I was looking at, and I let my hand fall away from her neck to rest at her lower back. She stiffened when she saw Hardin and Kaleb, as if she’d done something wrong, and I took my hands off her.

I didn’t want to be the wrong thing.

I couldn’t be.

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