Page 93 of Destroy (Deadly Hearts 2)

ChapterForty-One

Ruby

Excusing myself by feigning an overwhelmed feeling a few minutes later, I jump into action as soon as my bedroom door is closed. Texting for an Uber, I toe off my shoes and flinging the phone onto the bed, I whip off my clothes and dive into my closet to pick out a pretty sexy black dress with a slit up the thigh. I would normally choose red for nighttime, but this is Black Widow business and I want him to know who’s coming for him. I slip it on and then grab the knives and holsters, strapping them to my thighs. I then grab the handgun that is in the cabinet, taped underneath the bathroom sink and shove that into my left thigh holster. The split is a deceptive one. It has two poppers on it that make it lower and will cover up any weapons, but then once I undo it, I can grab the gun and knife with ease. Picking up my phone to make a call and scooping up a pair of heels, I forgo a coat, feeling the need to have the freezing air outside focus me. I open the bedroom window as wide as it will go and climb out.

The men are going to be seriously pissed when they discover that I’ve gone – again – but this is personal.

“Ruby,” The Banker’s voice answers my call after the third ring. “About fucking time.”

“Yeah, sorry. Is he there?”

“By he, do you mean the scary-ass Irish motherfucker? Then, yeah. He’s in the casino.”

I knew it. Arrogant son-of-a-bitch wants to start at my Homebase, well, he’s about to get the fucking shock of his life.

“I’m on my way,” I say and hang up, pushing the window closed and slipping my shoes on. I silently make my way around the side of the house furthest from the sitting room, down the narrow path and out into the garden to avoid the security light that will definitely come on when it senses movement.

Going past the big tree, in the middle of the front garden, I’m pulled up short by a familiar voice.

“Going somewhere, Princess?”

Dammit. Damn him to hell and back.

“How did you know?” I ask carefully, seeing Declan leaning up against a tree, a very pretty, black double-bladed knife twirling in his hand. How the fuck did he get that here?

He pushes off from the tree and stalks towards me. My blood runs cold when he stops in front of me and leans forward.

“Fool me once, Princess. Get back inside,” he whispers quietly, which is far more menacing than if he had yelled at me.

“No,” I say stubbornly. “This is my shit to deal with and I’m on my way to do that. Move.”

He grabs my arm tightly, almost hurting me. “I said, get back inside, Princess. Don’t disobey me.”

I lift my chin and glare at him furiously. “No.”

“You are making Daddy very angry, Princess. Go back inside, that’s an order.”

Fuck him.

“You can’t order me about,” I hiss, in no mood to play right now. He has no right to stop me.

“Oh, but I can,” he says, dragging the tips of the two blades down my arm, hard enough to make me squirm.

“Get out of my way, Declan,” I emphasize his name to make my meaning very clear. Daddy has no jurisdiction here.

“If you think for even one second, I am going to let you out of my sight to go and get yourself killed, you really have no idea who you are messing with,” he states coldly and to my shock, he picks me up and flings me over his shoulder, fireman style.

“Put me down, you asshole!” I shriek as he starts walking towards the house.

He ignores me.

I kick and scream and when he gets me back inside the house, with the rest of my men, and Aidan, watching this spectacle, I know I’m in serious shit.

“Leave,” Declan says to Aidan, and he goes without a word.

Now I know that ‘shit’ doesn’t quite cover it. A huge, stinky pile of manure might be more accurate. Whatever they’re going to say or do, they don’t want witnesses.

Shit.

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