Page 37 of Crush (Deadly Hearts 1)

He slaps my backside.

“See?” he asks. “Wasn’t that good?”

With a roar, I rear back and smash the back of my head into his face. I go dizzy with the force of the blow, but it makes him stumble away from me far enough for me to throw myself over the counter to grab a kitchen knife from the block. I don’t even give him a chance to beg for his life. I lunge at him, thrusting the knife deep into his chest.

He stops laughing.

Gurgling.

Falling.

Bleeding.

“You fucking cunt,” he growls as he drops to his knees.

I don’t hesitate.

There is no more fear.

No more pain.

Just blackness.

I shove him backwards and pull the knife out.

I slam it back into him once more.

Twice.

Three times.

Again and again until I have no more strength left in me.

I slide down the refrigerator, until I can pull my knees up to my chest, my panties still around my ankles, blood staining my hands.

My parents find me like that three hours later, telling me not to say a word to anyone outside of the family, they will fix this.

Fix this.

Weeks later, after I’ve spoken to a special therapist that my billionaire mom paid to keep quiet about what he heard and who I never see again after that day, my sister comes to me.

“You’re strong,” she says. “You’re like a black widow. You will get through this. I will help you.”

Black widow. I know she didn’t mean it in a nasty way. She was trying to understand and be supportive, but those two words never left me.

That day shaped who I would become. Fierce, dangerous…deadly.

I will always fight for those who are wronged, even if it means becoming someone who is feared. I will never strike first. I believe in vengeance. You hurt me or someone I care about, I will kill you.

It really is as easy as that.

“Ruby.” Declan’s voice cuts through my thoughts again.

“Yeah,” I say, slightly dazed.

I look into his deep blue eyes and suddenly, everything is clear again. He makes things clear in my head. He is my savior. I sought him out for so long, hurting from the pain of that day, hurting myself for being bad, for being evil. He gives me absolution for my sins.

His is my…everything.

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