Page 41 of Bad Ruck

"Can I tell you something?" Dallas asked.

"Of course you can," I said. "Anything." He looked pensive, but I wasn't worried. There was nothing he could say that would bother me, or that I wouldn't support. Nothing I could think of, anyway.

"I don't feel bad about what I did to her," he admitted. "India, I mean. If she was involved in what your brother said she was involved in, then she kind of, I dunno, deserved it. Especially if she would have done that to you. Traffic you." He shuddered. "Is that wrong? I shouldn't feel good about what I did."

"I don't think it's wrong at all," I said. "I feel bad for not seeing who she was. Maybe I could have prevented her from doing what she was doing."

How many people had she trafficked without me having a clue? I couldn't help feeling responsible for whatever happened to them while I was oblivious. How many lives had she ruinedwhile I got on with mine? I couldn't bring myself to be sad she was dead either. People like her brought misery to other people. She wouldn't have been out of place chained in my brother's workroom. He would have had fun with someone like her. Teaching her to suffer the way her victims suffered, and might still be suffering.

"Don't feel bad," he told me. "I met her, she seemed nice. I wouldn't have expected her to do what she did either. I guess that's why she got away with it. It's easy to suspect bad people of being bad, not nice ones."

"Maybe I was too trusting," I said. It wasn't usually like me to take people at face value, but with her, I had. And people suffered because of it.

"It's tiring being suspicious of everyone," he said. "Besides, you had a lot going on in your life. Work and study. No one expects you to pick up on everything all the time."

"I grew up here. I should have better developed instincts for things like that. Especially when she was right there, in front of my face." I sighed softly, my breath misting the air in front of me.

I expected it of myself, but the more I thought about it, the more that didn't make sense. He was right, I couldn't be tuned in to everything all the time. I was exhausted so often from being so busy, I probably missed a million cues before lunchtime.

Okay, nowhere near that, but I should have been more aware. I would be more aware from now on.

"She's not in front of your face anymore," he said. "She won't be able to do that to anyone else." He sounded almost proud of himself now.

"Because of you." I squeezed his hand. "Because you stayed to listen to her. Because your gut told you she couldn't be trusted, and you listened to it."

Why did mine let me down so badly? Was there anyone else I shouldn't trust that I hadn't picked up on yet?

For about half a second, I thought of the guys, but immediately dismissed it. I knew I could trust them. There was no doubt in my mind. Obviously, I could trust my brother, and his partners. I could trust Divina and Sadie.

Apart from them, there was no one else. I liked Daisy Lasalle, but trust her? Not completely. Not when she was happy to drag me back into this crazy lifestyle. I sure as hell wouldn't trust anyone with the last name Brantley. Caleb Brantley might be the worst, but I wouldn't turn my back on any of them. I was just as likely to find a knife between my ribs if I did.

"Yeah," he said softly. "Something about her was off."

"She was just about to cash in on a big payday and walk away from Flirts," I said. "She got sloppy. She got confident and it got her killed. If she played it cool, like she always had with me, she might not have given you an excuse to kill her."

What was she thinking, lunging at him? Even if she was skilled and took him by surprise, he was so much bigger than her. Fit, strong and athletic. With a ruthless streak he displayed on the field all the time.

"And she'd still be doing what she was doing." He grimaced. "I'm glad she got cocky."

He huffed out a breath. "I can still feel her blood on my hand. It was so warm and…sticky. The smell of it is still in my nose. Her scream… The sounds she made when she died. Everything after that is a blur, but those are crystal-clear in my brain. I keep playing them over and over in my head. They won't stop replaying. Sometimes it's in slow motion, moment by moment, like time slowed down. Sometimes it's a flash of everything that happened in a heartbeat. Sometimes I dream about it and it feels more real than reality."

"That sounds confronting," I said softly.

"It is," he said. "But I don't hate what I did. I… I don't think I'd hate what I did if she was innocent." The last came out as a whisper.

"You liked killing her?" I asked. I didn't see a need to dance around the question. He wanted to talk about it, so I'd be direct, giving him the chance to do the same.

"I felt powerful," he said. "I felt…like it was over too fast. When it rushes through my mind, I try to slow it down and live it again and again. The look in her eyes as her life faded away. I never want to forget that. Iknow, that's fucked up."

"She wasn't innocent," I reminded him. I didn't want him to torment himself for enjoying what he did. He wasn't the first person I knew who enjoyed killing. He probably wouldn't be the last. Him, my brother and Frost were in good company, especially in Dusk Bay.

"No, but what if next time it is an innocent person?" he asked. His voice wavered.

"You're not the sort of person who is going to kill indiscriminately," I said. "She came at you and you reacted. An innocent person isn't going to do that." At least, I hoped they wouldn't. "What were you supposed to do anyway? Let her kill you?"

"No, but, what if I lose control?" he asked. "You know there's times I have to fuck you or I'll lose my mind. All I can think of is being inside you. It's like the whole world disappears and the only thing that matters is your pussy. Or your mouth. What if that happens, but instead of fucking, I need to kill?"

"Are you worried you'll kill me?" I asked. Was that what this was about? I knew how he was when it came to fucking. He held nothing back, even if he'd only just come inside me. Every time he fucked me was like the first time. Always energetic, bordering on desperation. Addiction. I loved every moment of it. But if that turned into a need to kill, he'd be dangerous as hell.

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