Page 32 of Destroy (Deadly Hearts 2)

ChapterFifteen

Ruby

It’s sometime later when I wake up from a dead sleep. I haven’t slept this much in the previous eight years. I feel groggy and heavy-headed, but I reach for my phone, needing to speak to the other men.

“Hey,” I croak when David answers immediately.

“Rubes,” he says, the relief flooding his tone. “How’s things?” The casual inquiry makes me smile.

“If Mrs. Gannon is going to keep feeding me like she did this morning, I’m going to be the size of this house when we leave. How’re all of you?”

“All good,” he replies with a smile. “You sound stronger.”

“Little bit. I don’t feel as sore this morning.”

“Good, that’s good,” he says, his voice soft. “Let me put you on speaker.”

I smile and chat about the weather and all the dumb things you say when you are trying not to talk about the thing you actually want to talk about. They know it and enable my avoidance like pros.

Ten minutes later, with a promise to get Declan to call them the minute his mom leaves the house so they can come over – cue my teen years in a big way – I hang up and climb off the bed, thinking I really need to get a shower.

I feel capable of doing this myself without any help, so I gather up my freshly laid out towels and my toiletry bag and off I go.

Several painful minutes later, I stagger back to my bedroom, wishing that I wasn’t going through this. The only bright spot is knowing that every fucker that I’ve stabbed in the last eight years, if they got up and walked away, at least they suffered for a few days first before getting on with their lives. With my towel wrapped around my body and my hair wet and tangled, I turn to close the door and see Declan running up the stairs. He stops dead when he sees me, his eyes going to the towel and then shooting back up to mine.

“I need help,” I whine, not caring that I feel like a weak bitch for saying so.

“Sure,” he says slowly, and approaches me cautiously as if I’m a rabbit about to bolt. “Ruby.”

The way he says my name, it’s almost as if he is testing it. I scowl at him and turn my back. “Can you untangle this bird’s nest on my head, please.”

“Mm-hm,” he murmurs and takes the brush I shove at him. I sit at the dresser and glare at myself in the mirror. I should be able to reach up and do this myself, but it hurts.

Declan carefully brushes out my hair, doing a thorough job of it in complete silence.

“What’s up with you?” I snap at him. “Thinking about Siobhan?”

I prod the bear and quite frankly, I don’t give a shit. He is acting weird, and I don’t need weird right now. I need normal.

His eyes shoot to mine in the mirror, and he lets out a soft laugh. “Definitely not,” he replies.

“Then why are you so pensive?”

He shrugs and leans over me to place the brush back on the dresser.

“Thanks,” I mutter and haul myself to my feet. I turn to face him and bite my bottom lip. He is making me nervous now. “Have I done something…?” I ask and then cringe. What do I sound like? I lift my chin higher and fix a defiant look on my face, determined to change the tone of that sentence immediately. “Because if I have and you don’t like it, go fuck yourself.”

His look of surprise suddenly turns into a burst of laughter. “Feisty,” he murmurs. “I like it.”

I narrow my eyes and put my hands on my hips.

“Don’t be so cold,” he says, stepping closer. “Open up a bit. You are very frosty.”

For a damn good reason. What is going on here?

He tenderly pulls me to him, and I sink into his embrace, feeling the strength from him and enjoying the feeling of being safe in his arms.

I look up and smile. He smiles back. I do something I’m not sure I’m ready for, but I know somehow that it’s right. I press my lips against his.

He doesn’t respond for a split second, but I figure that is just natural under the circumstances.

But then, he plunges his tongue into my mouth, his hand going into my wet hair to give me a kiss filled with such longing, I know something isn’t right now. Declan’s kisses are forceful and confident and completely sure. This is almost needy.

I pull back and frown, staring into his eyes, those deep blue eyes that have a slight spark there that I haven’t seen before.

I jump back, my blood pounding in my ears when a familiar voice thunders from the doorway, “Cillian! Get your filthy fecking hands off her, you utter piece of shite.”

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