Page 36 of Running on Empty

“The sons of the Spencer pack,” he told them.

“Richard Spencer and his fucking cronies?” A man appeared on the screen behind Riley, his hand on her shoulder but his blue eyes paling to silver as he stared down the line of the video call. “They’ve been trying to take Crowe Corp down for a while now. And they’re who’ve pulled this?”

I didn’t listento much of the conversation that went on after that. Ash got down to business, outlining what he’d found, what had happened. Riley and her pack of alphas expressed a lot of concern about the attacks on me, but it all just seemed to wash over me, while my eyes were drawn back to those files, over and over. Snake, Jack, his brothers had recorded every one of their fucked-up exploits, not thinking for a second that it would be used against them as evidence. That made me laugh at their hubris…

And fear what made them think they were so bullet-proof that they could get away with it.

That was the thought that had me pushing myself up and out of the seat–well, off Ash’s lap–and stepping away. His hands went out to grab at me, but I kept moving, leaving him to his conference call as I walked down the hall. I didn’t know where Jax was, but he wasn’t the one I was looking for. I didn’t want a soft nest or to be caught up in memories from the past. I walked in the door of the room Ronan had said was his, to find everything I needed.

The walls were painted a deep plum colour, and the bed was made of heavy dark wood, but that’s not what caught my eye the most. All over the walls, set on brackets or lined up in racks, were knives, swords and other bladed weapons. I moved closer, studying the options, then reached out to pick up a knife that looked similar to the one I’d used the day before. I wanted to hold it in my hand so I could feel that certainty, regain the power of the moment when I’d driven it into the bed between Jonesy’s legs.

“Looking for something?” I turned around to see Ronan standing there, leaning against the door frame with a grin on his face as he dried his hands off on a towel. “Just tell me what you want to do and I’ll show you which is the perfect weapon for the job.”

Chapter22

Ronan

Could there be anything fucking hotter than my girl with a knife in her hand? My dick felt like it was trying to punch its way free of my jeans, imagining her fingers curling around me like she was with— I forced myself to cut that thought off and focus on her as I shut the door behind me.

“That knife you’ve got there? It’s got a lot of reach. That might be good for someone your size.”

Stevie tightened her grip as I got closer. Good girl, that showed good instincts. She brandished the knife with her elbow locked, her grip on the handle too tight. She narrowed her eyes, trying to ward me off, but that wasn’t going to work.

Because I wasn’t afraid of being cut by her.

“A bloke with a much longer reach than you can get in and attack you.” I moved in then, the knife almost sliding along the inside of my arm as I wielded my own imaginary one. As I did, the urge to let the tip dig into my flesh was hard to hold back. “While making it harder for you to hit back. A longer knife can help reduce that advantage.”

I closed my hand over her fingers, fighting the urge to rub my thumb over them, and then pulled the hilt from her grip. I turned away then, because my instincts were screaming at me to do something I knew she wasn’t ready for. Instead, I put the knife back on the rack before grabbing one that was as long as my forearm. More of a short sword really.

“Whereas this…?”

I wrapped her fingers around it, correcting her grip, the feel of her skin against mine creating a strange kind of sizzle, one I had to work to ignore. But when I looked up, my mate’s breath was coming in harder, faster, her eyes purest silver now. Was she seeing me or…? I parted my lips and sucked in a breath of her scent, letting the floral aroma play over my tongue. Nope, just me, because it was sweet as honey and thick to the taste.

“Now we’re equal, in a way.”

I stepped forward to demonstrate, the tip of the blade pressing against my bare chest, the urge to drive it deeper riding me hard. But I focused on her. Stevie’s arm started to shake a little. I trained with her whenever I could persuade her to get her arse out of bed before work. I’d shown her how to protect herself and forced her to perform the moves over and over, but she needed more strength training.

Or to surrender all her problems to me, make me her personal attack dog. She could lie like a queen, perched on that nest of pillows and I would fall to my feet before her, the heads of her enemies in my hands.

But I digress.

“It's heavy, isn’t it?”

Stevie gritted her teeth rather than answer me, and I could see it was taking real effort for her to keep the blade in the air. She didn’t want to give in, to let it go, no doubt feeling the rush of power wielding a knife gave you, but I didn’t like to see her straining or struggling. I disarmed her with a quick shift of my hands, and her eyes widening at that, how I had taken her power for just this moment. But instead of responding I walked over to the wall, looking for exactly what I needed for this task. Running my eyes over the different blades I’d collected was always a pleasure, but now? There was a curl in my guts that was twisting tighter by the second.

I grabbed a smaller blade, one she could comfortably handle, then tested the blade with my finger, ensuring it was very blunt. I moved back to her, putting it into her hand, watching her shoulder muscles uncoil, her arms going limp. I could tell she was getting a feel for it, for the weight, the potential.

“You can’t come at someone with a knife and not expect to get cut.” I raised my forearms so she could see the criss cross of pale white scars across the bony parts. Less veins, less important shit was there, so if you were going to take a cut, that’s where you wanted it. “That’s something you have to accept. Because knives are a very intimate way to hurt someone.”

I watched my mate closely, seeing the signs of fear in her widened eyes, but also smelling the sweet scent of arousal. Fuck… I smothered a smile. She was so damn perfect.

“That's why I like them so much.” I’d never told anyone this, not wanting to give Ash any more ammunition to use against me and knowing that for Jax taking someone out was just a job. “Guns take someone out at a distance, same with grenades and mortars.”Hewas talking now, not me. “Swords…?” I rolled my eyes towards the collection on the wall. “Well, you’re too focused on form, parrying, what your opponent is doing, to really focus on the kill. But knives?”

I stared at her, feeling my wolf rise and come to the fore, more than he ever had with her before. She’d see the real me, or the other half, the darker one, or she never would.

“You see their face when they slice into you, that elation, that triumph.” Her eyelids fluttered at that, my smile spreading. “Then their expression changes when you cut them.”

I clasped my hands around the one she used to hold the knife, bringing the blade up, my heart rate picking up with it, so the tip was back against my chest.

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