Page 14 of Destroy (Deadly Hearts 2)

I almost weep with relief. I didn’t want to stand here naked and vulnerable in front of all of them, but I simply cannot do this by myself. Layton helps me off the stool as the other men leave.

“Wait,” I say, stopping them in their tracks. “Before you go, I need you all to know something. He—he…” I stop and inhale deeply, gathering my inner strength. “He wore a condom,” I blurt out before I lose my nerve.

Declan hisses and growls. “I fucking killed him.”

My eyes shoot to his. “Sm-Smith?”

He nods grimly.

Oddly, that makes me feel slightly stronger. For the first time in what feels like forever, I smile. I knew that Declan would take care of this for me. I knew he would look out for me in the only way he could at the time. How he knew it was him, I guess he will tell me when he’s ready.

I nod and they leave me and Layton alone.

“May I?” Layton asks, his hands, hovering near the hem of the jersey.

I nod.

He steps into the shower, getting completely drenched now and carefully gets my arms free first and then grips the hem, gently lifting it over my head.

My heart is thundering in my chest. I want to hide. I want to cover up and disappear, but there is no need. Layton avoids looking at me as he grabs the soap and sponge and slowly gets to work. He lifts my left arm up first and I recoil from the smell of B.O. I’m so embarrassed but he doesn’t even flinch. He just cleans me up and then sets to work on my other stinky pit. I let out a muffled moan when he rubs the sponge over the sites of the injections that Boomer issued. He stops instantly.

“I see,” he murmurs, but doesn’t probe me for information.

He leaves my upper arms alone and skates over the thin scratch at my throat and then down in between my breasts. I’m frozen in place when he runs the sponge under them, but it’s over quickly and I breathe out slowly.

He steps back. “I will steady you if you want to do the rest yourself,” he says.

“It’s okay,” I murmur and grab his wrist to help me off the stool.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

I nod and part my legs slightly.

He takes the soap and lathers it up before he drops it on the dish and carefully rubs his hand between my legs. I let out a whimper and he whips his hand away quickly, but I shake my head. “I’m okay. Please, get rid of the feel of him.”

“Fuck, Ruby,” he mutters, but it’s the only sign of emotion from him. He has detached himself from this situation and isn’t looking at me like the woman he is involved with, but rather someone he needs to clean and take care of. I fall in love with him in that moment harder and faster than I ever thought possible. There is no pressure, no intimidation, no need for me to apologize for flinching or thank him for being gentle.

When it’s all over, he steps out of the shower soaking wet, but only grabs one towel. I help out and turn the taps off before he wraps me in the black fluffy towel, cradles me in his arms and carries me to the bedroom, where he proceeds to dry me off and wrap me in a soft robe, avoiding putting any pressure on the wound.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, breaking the silence, after drying himself as best he can. “Ramsey’s making soup.”

“Is that what I can smell?” I ask and ignore my growling stomach.

He lets out a soft laugh and holds his hand out for me. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

I let him lead me slowly out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen where I will need every ounce of fortitude I have to face the four men as not my caregivers any longer, but as my lovers, after I’ve killed a man, was abducted, tortured, stabbed, raped, killed another man and finally made it back to them with my soul destroyed, my body battered, bruised and my mind slightly broken.

---