Page 22 of Destroy (Deadly Hearts 2)

ChapterTen

Ramsey

“She didn’t eat anything,” I say, slumped in the armchair at the end of the fancy glass coffee table.

“She will when she’s ready", David says, holding his phone to his ear.

Mine beeps next to me for a message and I glance at it out of something to do. Squinting at it, I scowl and drop it on the arm of the chair again.

“Problem?” David asks.

“Nope,” I say and look away. “Who are you trying to get hold of?” I ask to deflect. I do not want to discuss the text that the hospice has just sent me. Yeah, it seems harsh to send a death notification by text, but I told them under no circumstances to ring me. Ever. I’m not interested in speaking to them and hearing how sorry they are that my bitch mother has finally been dragged down to hell.

“The Banker,” David replies. “It’s a system…” He waves his hand dismissively.

“What for?” I ask. I’ve heard about this Banker guy. He is the one that runs the off-the-record books for all of Ruby’s Underworld businesses and apparently goes round collecting protection money from local businesses in Ruby’s turf.

“You think I meant what I said about leaving her business to the hyaenas?” he scoffs. “Please. We have worked too damn hard to lose it all. The Banker will watch it and make sure no one makes a move on her ground.”

I snort. “Sneaky. I like it. Can’t say I want to come back to find my job has been handed to some bell-end who works for Scott.”

“Speaking of Scott…what are we going to do about him?” David asks.

“We aren’t going to do anything,” Declan pipes up from his post of staring out of the window over the back garden. “It’s taken care of.”

“Meaning?” I ask, sitting forward and resting my elbows on my knees.

“Meaning, it’s taken care of,” he says and then pulls his vibrating phone out of his pocket. He looks at it and declines the call. That’s the sixth time I’ve seen him do this in the last couple of days.

“We keeping you from something?” I jibe.

“It’s nothing,” he says.

“Finally,” David grouses into the phone. “Listen up…”

I tune him out as he wanders off into the kitchen and pick up my own phone to stare at the message again.

I sigh. I won’t respond to it. They can burn her body and throw her in the bin for all I care. I’m not getting involved. Too much pain, too much of her shit to put up with over the years. As I got older, into my early teens, I spent more and more time at Layton’s house or over at Pete Wilson’s. His mum was nice, and we used to talk. Pete’s dad had left a while ago and I think she was lonely. It wasn’t until much later on that I realized she took advantage of me. I was just a kid and she seduced me. Oh, I was all Billy Big Spuds about it at the time, but now I just feel sad that my first time wasn’t with someone I cared about. Still, she gave me what I needed at the time.

“Hey,” Layton says. “There’s an Uber on its way to take you back to your place so you can pick up a few things for the trip.”

“I don’t want to leave Ruby,” I protest.

“We’ll go in shifts. You can’t arrive there with only the clothes on your back.”

“Fine,” I grouse. I don’t see why I have to go first. Although, in hindsight, if I go now while Ruby is still sleeping, I’ll be back when she wakes up. “Where are we staying?” I ask, the thought just occurring to me.

“David’s organizing it,” Declan says. “For feck’s sake,” he adds under his breath as his phone goes off again.

“Just answer the fucking thing, would you?” I snap at him.

He turns to give me a death stare. I raise my chin a little, not intimidated by the cold-blooded killer one bit. If he wants to start, I’m more than ready.

“It’s about a job,” he grits out. “I’m not leaving Ruby, so I’m not taking it.”

“Oh,” I murmur and suppress the shudder. I haven’t really had much chance to think about what he does for a living. He must be ice-cold to be able to separate that from his normal life. Whatever his normal life is. So far, we haven’t seen much of anything apart from him being with Ruby. I guess seeing him with his mum will shed some light onto the man, and not the killer. “Hey, do you have siblings?” I ask as the thought pops into my head.

“Yes,” he replies and then stalks out of the sitting room, in a definite move to avoid me asking more questions.

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