Page 26 of Ruin My Life
His gaze flicks between Monroe, Connor, and me—calculating the odds and already knowing it’s over.
His throat bobs with a hard swallow.
I chuckle under my breath. It’s always satisfying, that exact second when fear blooms.
“The motel has a strict policy against cutting up your wife on the premises,” I say coolly, like he left his car in a no-parking zone.
I draw my gun from the back of my belt, flick off the safety, and press the barrel against his forehead. He stumbles back into the room, hands up, words tripping out of his mouth.
Connor and Monroe slip in behind me, closing the door and trapping him inside.
“There’s been a—a misunderstanding,” Oswald stammers.
His voice shakes, and his knees start to follow.
“I didn’t—It’s not—”
My eyes shift to the bed.
Jennifer Pietro lies curled under the thin motel sheets, her cheeks streaked with mascara tears. A dark red bloom soaks through the fabric near her thigh.
A switchblade rests on the mattress beside her.
Blood-stained. Fresh.
Tsk, tsk, tsk.I click my tongue, shaking my head. “You’re a terrible liar, Oswald. Lucky for you, you’re not the one bleeding. Though if you were, I doubt anyone would buy your side of the story.”
“Please,Mr. King—”
BANG!
The shot is clean. His voice dies the moment the bullet tears through his skull.
His head snaps back, and blood fans across my cheek.
He hits the floor with a softthud. Dead weight.
When I turn back, Connor’s already with Jennifer, easing her into a robe. He wraps a towel around her thigh, gentle but efficient.
“Do you need an ambulance?” I ask, my voice softer now.
Jennifer’s eyes—strikingly blue despite the swelling around them—flick to mine.
She shakes her head and gives a weary smile. “I’ve dealt with worse,” she whispers. “Thank you for coming.”
“Thank you for calling. Do you have a safe place to go?”
She nods slowly. “My sister lives in Kensington. She’s been begging me to stay with her. Now that he’s gone… I think I’ll finally say yes.”
“Good.”
Connor helps her up with careful hands.
“Connor will call you a cab—on me,” I say. “And if you ever need anything… You know where to find me.”
Tears still glimmer behind her smile. “Thank you, Mr. King.”
“No formalities,” I say, offering a gentler smile. “Just call me Damon.”
