Page 6 of Reclaim (Deadly Hearts 3)

It has always been just me.

I don’t need a fucking bodyguard or a man, or five, to help me out of this situation. I never have and I never will. I am Ruby Bellingham. Black Widow.

With a steady hand, I take a couple of slow steps forward and snatch the chipper from the counter. I stab myself in the neck with it before I can think about what I’m doing, wincing from the pinch, but not freaking out like a lunatic because of it.

“Happy?” I growl.

“Are you?” he growls back, the implication quite clear.

He has taken my threats seriously, but he is unbelievably pissed off about it. As he should be. I would be if the roles were reversed.

“For now,” I snarl, not backing down an inch, even though my insides have withered into a sliver of nothing except darkness at forcing the memories of my time with Boomer down and back into the box.

“Good. Let’s go.” He turns away but I stop him.

“Wait,” I say. “Does this Adam even know who I am?”

He shrugs. “Guess you will find out when you get there.”

“Great,” I mutter loudly. “So think on my feet after being complicit in the murder of the head of the Irish mob on my turf, two hours sleep, a sip of coffee and no food.”

“Way I hear it, that’s when you do your best work,” Vinnie says, stumping me with the assbackward praise.

Sighing, I remain silent and follow him out of the mansion to a big black Hummer, and climb in the backseat to contemplate exactly what my move is going to be once I get to this dive strip club.

As it stands, I haven’t got a fucking clue.

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