Page 58 of Hunted By Valentine

He crosses the room in a few quick strides, the floorboards creaking beneath his weight. I flinch at his sudden movement, and he freezes, his eyes filled with regret. He reaches out tentatively, as if afraid I might shatter at his touch.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his thumb gently brushing away a tear that escapes my eye. “I promise I’ll make this right.”

His words are a balm to my wounded soul, and I lean into his touch, seeking solace in the familiar warmth of his embrace. But as I do, his fingers brush against the bite mark on my shoulder, the memory of Valentine’s touch sending a shiver down my spine.

I pull away, my eyes wide with fear. Jack’s gaze follows mine, and he notices the mark for the first time. His eyes narrow, his anger simmering just below the surface. “Who did this to you, Ruby?” he demands, his voice low and dangerous.

Nick moves closer, his dark eyes are blazing with fury, the muscles in hisjaw clenching. “What the fuck happened, Ruby?” he growls, his voice barely contained.

I try to sit up, wincing as my bruised… everything protests.

“Ruby, answer me,” he demands, his voice low and dangerous. “Who did this to you?”

I hesitate, torn between my loyalty to Valentine and the fact I know I can’t lie to my brothers. They’ll both see right through any dishonesty I might try to serve them when I haven’t had time to come up with a good answer.

“It’s complicated,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “Please, Nick. I don’t want to talk about it.”

His eyes narrow in anger. He takes a step toward me, and I flinch instinctively. “Complicated?” he snarls. “Is that what you call this? Look at yourself, Ruby. You’re a fucking mess.”

“That’s enough,” Jack growls. “Stop attacking her.”

I try to push myself up onto my elbows, but the pain is too much, and I collapse back onto the bed, tears streaming down my face. “Please,” I beg again, my voice barely audible. “Don’t be a Knight right now. Be my brother.”

His expression softens, anger momentarily giving way for concern. But then it’s gone, replaced by a steely determination. “Who did it, Ruby?” he asks again, his voice low and dangerous. “Was it Michael?”

“No,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “It wasn’t Michael.”

He takes a step closer to the bed, making me feel even smaller as he towers over me. “Then who?” he demands, his voice barely contained. “Why won’t you tell us who did this to you?”

Anger like I’ve never felt before courses through my veins, giving me the strength I need to push myself up. This time, I don’t feel any pain, only a morbid satisfaction as both my brothers’ eyes widen comically.

“Enough,” I hiss. “If I tell you it’s none of your damn business, you need to stay out of it.”

“We just want to help, Rubes,” Jack says sheepishly.

Shaking my head, I meet his gaze, letting him see the anger undoubtedly visible in my gaze. “No, you don’t. You want to pry, Jack.” Turning my gaze on Nick, I add, “Both of you. Do you think I’m here because I needed an excuse to go on a spa weekend? No. So how about you let me heal in fucking peace?”

It takes a ridiculous amount of strength to stop myself from rambling. It’s almost like now that I’ve started, I can’t stop throwing accusations at them. I know they don’t deserve my wrath, but sometimes offense is the best defense, and I refuse to let them know I’ve been intimate with Valentine.

As I look between them, they shrink, at least that’s how it feels to me. They both shake their Mafia images and, in place of those ruthless men, are my brothers. Two men it feels as though I haven’t seen in years. Or more accurately, I haven’t seen Nick like this in years.

“You really won’t tell us?” Nick implores, taking my hand as he sits down next to me.

I shake my head, immediately regretting the movement when the pain flares up again. “Shit,” I whimper, slapping a hand over my eyes as even the sparse light in the bedroom starts to feel like needles stabbing into my brain. “How did I get here?”

Jack’s the one to answer me after he sits down on my other side. “I found you bleeding on the bathroom floor and called doc…” He shrugs as though it was no big deal, but the haunting truth is all too visible in his eyes. “… she came to yours and Michael’s house, and patched you up the best she could. Once she was done, I brought you here.”

“And Michael?” I ask, panicked at the thought they’ve done something to him.

“He’s fine,” Nick growls. “At least for now.”

Closing my eyes, I inhale sharply, pondering how to best go about making it clear they can’t touch him. I know them both well enough to know they’d like nothing more than to inflict the same pain on my husband, but they can’t.

If I want to avoid the worst contents of the marital contract, Michael needs to remain in good health.

“Don’t meddle,” I whisper, too exhausted to continue talking at a normal volume. “It was my fault.”

“The fuck it was!” Jack growls angrily.

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