Page 85 of Ruthless Savage

My bottom lip quivers and my fingers rub at my neck. I can’t seem to keep it together.

His nostrils widen, and he’s forcing himself past the threshold and roughly shutting the door. “Eriu?”

His fingers find my chin, and he tilts it up to inspect my throat, anger flaming in his eyes.

“Feck…” His jaw twitches. “He left a mark on you?”

“What?” I choke out, my pulse quickening even more.

Is there a mark on my neck? Oh, no!

“It was Mason.” He says it like he knows already. “He hurt you, right?”

My chin quivers, and a sob breaks free. Then I’m throwing myself into his arms and he’s holding me, making me feel safer. I needed this more than anything.

“I’m so sorry. I’m gonna make this right. I promise. And no one will hurt you again. I swear it.”

“Please…” I push back at his chest and stare up into his tranquil blue eyes. “Please don’t do anything that could hurt you.”

“Do you know what it does to me to know he laid hands on you and is still alive to talk about it?”

“Don’t kill him. Not for me.”

“I’ve gotta go.” He cups my cheeks and his forehead meets mine, his mouth brushing against my lips until my heart skips a beat.

I want to feel his lips again and again.

He kisses me on my temple and breathes me in slow, like he’s savoring me.

Before I can tell him not to leave, not to do whatever he’s planning, he’s out the door, and I’m afraid of what will happen when he’s done.

CHAPTER 19

DEVLIN

Mason lives alone in a house bigger than his balls, bought with his daddy’s money. There are only three guards around the perimeter, and I already have a plan for how to take them out.

It only took me a couple of hours to get to his home with the traffic. I had to make sure the fecking prick was back before I did what I came to do. When I heard him hurting her, I rushed over, wanting to slice his goddamn throat. But I missed him.

I won’t miss now.

I move toward one of the guards from behind, standing alone at the back at the house, and silently, I grab him around his throat and put a bullet in his temple. The shot is muffled by the silencer.

I slink toward the front of the house where the other two men are stationed, my nine at my side.

Something cracks beneath my foot. Maybe a branch.

Shite.

“Did you hear that?” one of the men asks.

“No idea. Go check it out. Let me know if you find anything.”

“Yeah. Alright.”

Here we go.

As soon as footfalls pummel closer, I get ready behind a shrub. When he comes around the corner, I manage to surprise him and step out, a bullet piercing his forehead.

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