Page 127 of The Love Destroyers

“You hurt her, and you’re dead,” I say, prowling closer. “You hear me?Dead.”

He loosens his grip again, and Emma meets my gaze. In her eyes, I can see that she’s ready to try something. She’s silently asking me to give her an opening.

“You look like a vagrant,” Jeffrey says. “If something happens to her, they’ll think you did it. They’ll think you’re the one who hurt us both.”

“Probably,” I agree, my whole body primed to rush him. “But you’d still be fucking dead. There’s no arguing with death, even for a prick like you.”

“Drop the knife,” he says, his face going a milky shade, because he must realize he doesn’t have an easy way out. He’s probably had easy outs his whole life—or he’s made them for himself.

“Drop my girl,” I retort.

“Your girl, huh?” he says.

I messed up, and it probably shows on my face, but my remorse is short lived. Because he made the absolutely idiotic error of underestimating Emma.

With his focus fixed on me, she stomps her foot on his, hard. He drops her in surprise, only for her to turn around and deliver her knee directly into his crotch. Then a second time.

She’s free, and there’s no reason for me to hold back anymore. My blood is hot. I’ve hurt people before, but not because I wanted to. Him, I want tokill. I can only think of a few reasons for why he would have come here tonight, and none of them are innocent.

I throw the knife in the opposite direction, because I know what I’d do if I had it when I get to him.

Then I barrel in and punch him in the face. He falls like a sack of bricks, too easy for my satisfaction. I kick him in the side with my boot, and then again, wanting to make him squirm, but Emma grabs my arm in both of hers, her grip hard and urgent.

“Don’t,” she says, and when I look back I see she’s crying, a sight that nearly breaks me. “Don’t. Please, it’s not worth it. Please, Seamus. Please, just hold me.”

I stop, my rage doused by the look on her face. “Please,” she says again. “I need you to hold me, Seamus, and don’t let go.”

I’m not going to say no to something like that, not from her. Not from this woman I’m falling in love with.

But first I rip down the curtains so I can tie him up. The valence goes in his mouth, because I don’t want to hear a damn thing he has to say.

Sorry, Mrs. Rosings.

Once he’s trussed up in the curtains, I take Emma into my arms. She’s shaking slightly, her hair damp against my shirt. Again, I feel the need to destroy Jeffrey, but I tell myself that Emma will take much more satisfaction in watching his lies bite him back than she would in watching the life slip from his eyes. I focus on her, on how good it feels to have her in my arms again, and on the soft inhales and exhales that tell me she’s alive and safe.

“It’s going to be okay, Em,” I whisper into her hair. A siren is approaching from the distance, so hopefully Nicole got my message. The more people who are here, the easier it will be to ignore the part of me that’s still saying Jeffrey isn’t paying enough for what he did. For what he wanted to do.

Maybe she knows I’m struggling, because she whispers, “Hold me tighter.”

I do, giving my strong woman all of my strength, willing myself to focus on her. “I found a thumb drive on Carrot’s tag,” I tell her softly. “That’s where Ellie was hiding the information.”

She glances up at me, her lips parting. “You beautiful genius.”

“I accept my new nickname,” I say, breathing her in. “My God, I was so scared. I’ve never been so scared in my whole life.”

She pushes up on her toes and kisses me, and I soak in the goodness of her as I kiss her back, desperate for her. I’m not going to hold her to the kiss, but right now I need it. I need the reminder that she’s okay. Because Jeffrey is at our mercy, and I’m still desperate to destroy him.

I glance over at him, but she grabs my jawline and turns my face back to her.

“You’re bossy,” I say.

“I’m not going to date you if you’re in jail. So you’ll stand down and let me ruin him by showing everyone exactly who he is.” She pauses, then cups my face. “You don’t like hurting people.”

“I liked hurting him.”

“So did I,” she says in a whisper. “But it’ll be so much more satisfying to ruin him.”

I nod at the words that echo my own thoughts. My throat is tight, though, because I can still see him strangling her in that headlock. I’m guessing I’ll be seeing it for years. I glance down, seeing the red mark across her neck. I place a kiss next to it, the way she did with my head injury, and she smiles and whispers, “My nanny really pulled one over on us.”

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