Page 85 of Crush (Deadly Hearts 1)

“No one you know,” he says and that is, apparently, the end of that.

Scowling, I turn back to my dad’s message.

Sorry, I type. It was kill or be killed.

Nice. Stabbed in the back by my own daughter.

I can picture his face and I laugh. He isn’t really pissed at me. But my mom will have torn him a new one for going AWOL.

Is she really mad?

Let’s just say she knows where to fire where it hurts.

I crumple my nose up and try not to think about that one too hard.

How come you didn’t call her?

She wouldn’t understand unless I tell her everything. That’s not my place.

Are you back in New York then?

Yeah, took the last flight out.

I spoke to Scar. She filled me in. FYI, it hasn’t made a difference. Stay out of it.

He is no good for you. You know that.

Don’t.

The three little dots come up and then stop while he thinks about a response.

A moment later it pops up.

You are not a stupid woman, Ruby. Don’t let whatever vulnerabilities you have be swayed by him. He isn’t your savior.

That’s not what this is about.

It’s a lie. He knows it as well as I do. I need to end this conversation before it goes someplace that I can’t come back from.

I’ve got a meeting. I’ll chat later.

I sign off before he responds by slamming my laptop shut.

I’m not a liar in that respect as there is then a knock at the door and David ushers in my client, a small, wiry ginger-haired man with a big smile and apologies on his lips for being late.

After twenty minutes of talking with this man, I’m satisfied that he can pay me on time and he is aware that if he doesn’t, I will personally see to it that he doesn’t walk again for a while.

I reach down and open the bottom drawer. Inside there is a small safe that is activated by a tiny prick of blood. It seems extreme, but inside is laundered cash, so not exactly something I can keep in my handbag. I wince as I place my finger onto the activation pad and then the safe clicks open. I pull out twenty thousand Pounds in twenty Pound notes and stuff it into an envelope. I hand it to my client.

“Sixty days to pay it back,” I say and hand it over.

“Agreed,” he says and takes it. He stands up and shoves it into his jacket pocket. “Thanks.”

I shrug. I don’t want thanks. I want my money paid back on time.

Watching as he leaves, I flick my eyes back to Declan. “Any chance you could leave me alone for a bit? I’m not a creature who enjoys being hovered over.”

He narrows his eyes at me, but stands up. “I’ll be in David’s office,” he says after a few moments.

---