Page 58 of Reclaim (Deadly Hearts 3)

ChapterThirty

Declan

Guilt floods me momentarily and it surprises me. I didn’t think I would feel anything until all of this is over. It’s easy to compartmentalize my feelings and to push them aside when dark things need doing. I’ve been doing it my whole life. Now is no different. The only thing that’s changed is now I have Ruby to bring me back from the brink. Dragging the moaning, hobbling, soon-to-be-corpse of Scott along the corridor, I gesture to David to open the door that leads downstairs to the casino.

As soon as it’s open, I give Scott a big shove, watching as he crashes down the stairs to the bottom.

“Feck’s sake, Dec,” Cillian grumbles. “You could’ve killed him already. Who is this turd anyway?”

“He hurt Ruby, that’s all you need to know.” I stalk past my twin and take the steps, one at a time. Everyone follows me, including Ruby. She still has the severed tongue in her hand, and a grossed out look on her face as she makes her way behind the bar and grabs a glass. Slamming it on the bar, she shudders and flings the tongue into the glass. “Yeurgh!”

I turn away from her, knowing I did wrong by her earlier. That’s where the guilt is coming from. She needed me to absolve her for killing Vinnie, but things got away from me, and I didn’t give her what she needed. Actions are not enough. She needed to hear me say it, and I didn’t. It didn’t escape my notice that neither did Layton. I wonder if he is aware and it was a conscious decision, or if he was like me and the sex got in the way.

Either way, when this is over and Scott is dead, I’m going to give her what she needs.

Bending down, I grab Scott by the lapel of his jacket. He is covered in blood gushing from his mouth, and his shot-out knee. Drawing a chair up, I throw him in it, enjoying the groan of pain that radiates through him.

I frown when Layton bunches up his fist and smashes it into Scott’s face.

He repeats the action, so I leave him to it. He has a lot of shit to work through. Ruby is upset with him over this Maribel creature. Slipping behind the bar, I grab some tequila, salt and some slices of lemon. Gathering them up, I hold my other hand out to Ruby. She knows what I want and slaps the black knife against my palm.

Still not meeting her gaze, I make my way back to Scott.

“Enough,” I say to Layton. “I want him conscious for this.”

I hear Ruby’s desired pant. It affects my cock, which stiffens, but I ignore it.

Placing my goods on a nearby table, I lean over and rip Scott’s shirt open. Taking the knife, I slice a deep cut across the left side of his chest.

Then a matching one on the right.

Scott’s muffled moans feed the darkness inside me. I repeat the cuts on either side, three more times and then I grab the bottle of tequila. Ever so slowly, I hold it over his chest and pour out the contents over the open wounds. He hisses and then screams when I take the salt and sprinkle it over the cuts. His howls of pain make me smile sadistically. Grabbing up a few slices of lemon in each fist, I squeeze them until the acidic juice drips slowly onto the open wounds.

It’s satisfying to see his eyes roll up into the back of his head when he passes out from the assault to his body. He has reached his limit and now I’m going to push him past it. If I’d had the time to do this to Smith, it would’ve gone some way to appeasing the guilt I still feel over not being there to help Ruby. But this will help.

Cillian hands me a glass of ice-cold water and I dump it on Scott’s face, rousing him.

“Uh-uh!” He makes a begging noise, but no one is listening.

“Lighter,” I say to Cillian, knowing he still has the odd cigarette, now and again.

He hands it to me, and I flick it on, watching the flame dance for a moment before I press it to Scott’s chest and watch mesmerized as he burns, his skin blistering and turning red, his cries of agony echoing around the casino.

---