I should’ve stayed back at Mary’s where I was safe, and away from people.

I burst through the reinforced steel door, easily opened from this side and then yank the next door open, stumbling through, bouncing off the doorjamb and hurting my arm.

I gulp in a deep breath and the open space, the fresh air, has the opposite effect on me. I panic more.

I lunge for the car door, noticing earlier that Cillian didn’t bother to lock it down this back alley. I fall into the passenger seat and slam the door.

I close my eyes and take a steady breath. Then another.

This feeling has to end. I can’t stand it. I need a release. I need…

“Fuuuuck,” I moan when I know exactly what I need.

I slip my hand into the waistband of my sweats and inch my fingers towards my pussy. I freeze, but then curse myself for being an idiot. These are my fingers, godammit. If I don’t do this, if I don’t bring myself to an orgasm, I feel like my head is going to explode. I need to do this to release the tension but also to release the fear. I can’t bear it any longer.

I shove my hand into my panties and finger my clit roughly.

I scrunch my eyes up even more, pushing the image of Smith out of my head. “You don’t belong in here,” I moan.

With my breathing ragged, I slow down and start to rotate my middle finger over my clit. I’m as dry as the desert, but I don’t care. I need to do this. I don’t care if my orgasm is like a puff of pleasure. It’s a start to get over this fear.

I moan, hurting myself as I dry up even more, but I power on. Stopping now is defeat, and my fragile psyche can’t take that right now.

“Ruby.”

My eyes fly open at the sound of Cillian’s voice on the outside of the car window.

I gasp as my clit twitches, and I feel a puddle form at my entrance.

“Shit,” I pant.

Cillian opens the car door and then freezes when he sees me with my hand down my pants.

“Oh, feck,” he groans and turns away.

“No!” I shout at him. “Look at me!”

“Ruby…I…”

“Please, look at me,” I beg him, rubbing my slippery clit with more vigor.

I have my right hand occupied, but my left one is ready to stop him if he touches me. I just want him to watch. It has spiked my arousal, which I thought was dead.

Cillian crouches down and drops his eyes to my hand moving inside my sweats. He doesn’t say a word. He just watches me as I asked.

I feel my clit twitch again and then the orgasm washes over, making me buck in the car seat as I let out a soft cry of relief.

I did it.

I pant and remove my hand, clenching it into a fist.

“Thank you,” I murmur, feeling embarrassed but elated.

“No, thank you,” he says with a smirk, and places the beautiful black knife on my lap. I snatch it up quickly.

I giggle, but then sober up. “Thank you for not trying to touch me.”

His serious eyes meet mine. “I know survivors of sexual assault, Ruby. You don’t ever have to fear me. I am here to help you in any way that I can. But I won’t touch you. I will respect your boundaries and those of your men. Declan has told me a lot about you, and I feel like you wouldn’t want me to do something without their consent. Get it, and then we’ll talk more.”

“What makes you think I want to talk?” I croak.

“We are two sides of the same coin, Ruby. If you get consent from your men to explore whatever this is that we have, and I know you feel it too, then we’ll talk.”

I bite the inside of my lip and nod, not able to say a word because he’s right. I do need to seek consent, but first there is something else I need and without Declan here to give it to me, Layton is going to have to step up.