Page 52 of Crush (Deadly Hearts 1)

Fuck’s sake.

What is this?

“Does Mom know?” I ask quietly.

“Cassie knows about me,” Dad replies. “She doesn’t know about you.”

“Good,” I say, breathing out in relief. “Let’s keep it that way.” It’s not that I’m ashamed, but she won’t understand. Or maybe she would if she knows about her husband’s past. Past? Or present?

“Do you still do that work?” I croak out.

He shakes his head.

I know I shouldn’t be so prudish about this given what I do, but it really icks me out to know that my own father is a killer. One like Declan. Cold and frightening.

I push my hair out of my face and sigh. Luckily, we are all saved from further awkwardness when the door opens and David strolls in, bringing with him his cheerful mood. I smile up at him gratefully as he drops the bags he’s carrying on the floor and takes us all in, his hazel eyes landing on my dad with curiosity.

“David, this is my dad,” I murmur.

“Oh,” he says and holds his hand out. “David Jones. Ruby’s assistant.”

Dad glares at David’s extended hand and for a moment, I think he is going to be rude and ignore it, but he takes it and shakes it firmly. “Rex,” he mutters.

David nods and raises an eyebrow at me. I shrug. Rex is Rex.

I make a motion to stand up and then hiss. I look down at my leg to see that while I was unconscious, nimble fingers sliced the leg of my leather pants wide open and used the steri-strips in the first aid kit to close up the bullet graze on my thigh.

“Nice work,” I mutter and stand up, favoring my injured leg. “I need a shower and then we can talk. I can’t think right now,” I add to my dad.

“Sure,” he says and sits down, making himself comfy in the chair by the fire.

“David, would you mind helping me?” I ask.

“Of course,” he says and ignores dad’s hard gaze.

He’s doing a lot of that at the moment. He’s not stupid. He knows something is going on somewhere. I just hope he doesn’t decide to make an issue out of it today. I’m not in the mood.

I give Ramsey a soft smile and he gives me a tired one back. I need some time alone with him, but he can’t help me right now. I lead David down the hallway to my bedroom and close the door behind us. I don’t say a word as I go into the bathroom.

He follows me. “What do you need me for?” he asks.

“Help me out of these pants,” I say, trying not to make it sassy or seductive. I literally just need someone to help me take these shredded leather pants off without hurting my leg. Now that the adrenaline has faded, I’m aching, and the wound is burning like the fires of hell.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, taking it as I didn’t mean it, but I’m quite glad he did.

“I’m sore,” I whine, and he chuckles.

“I can see that, but didn’t think you’d ever mention it.”

“I know when to ask for help,” I retort. “As in now?” I gesture to my pants.

His gaze heats up and it makes him unbelievably attractive. That look of desire on his face aimed at me makes my heart beat faster. Where has all of this come from?

My breath hitches when he moves in closer. He reaches out to undo the buttons on my leather waistcoat first. After he takes that off, he silently lifts up the hem of my long-sleeved tee and slowly pulls it up over my head.

His eyes drop to my breasts, encased in a sexy lace bra. “Beautiful,” he murmurs, making me shiver.

His fingers skate lightly over the fabric until he unclasps it at the back, letting it drop and watching as my breasts tumble free. My nipples peak enticingly.

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