Page 68 of Ruined (The Knights of Ruin)

‘No,’ I said calmly. ‘It counts for exactly zero. Because you don’t love me, Justin. You never did. If you had, the last thing you would have done is treat me like shit, the way you did.’

He snorted, drawing himself up as if to emphasise his height, trying to make me feel small and weak.

‘You’re still pissed about a couple of slaps across the face? Come on. They didn’t hurt that much.’

I don’t know what came over me then—a tidal wave of rage, a firestorm burning away my fear and my vulnerability, burning away my weakness. I lifted my hand, drew it back and punched him in the face. Hard.

He reeled back in shock, blood pouring from his nose, and even though my knuckles were throbbing, it was the most satisfying sight in the entire world.

‘What the fuck?’ His hand went to his nose, his face going red.

‘What are you getting so pissy about?’ I asked. Rage was making me shake. ‘It was just a little punch in the face. It didn’t hurt that much.’

‘You’re fucking crazy!’

I took another step towards him, and it was even more satisfying to see him take a step back. ‘You know the difference between you and Smoke, Justin? Everything. Every fucking thing. He’s a better friend, a better lover, a better father. And he’s sure as hell a better man than you’ll ever be.’

Justin’s face twisted and he reached out to grab me, yanking hard on my hair as he pulled me close. ‘You crazy bitch. I’ll teach you a fucking lesson about who’s the better man.’

I wasn’t afraid of him when his hands turned painful, ripping at my blouse, jerking up my skirt. Instead I was made of rage. I could feel it turning hot, burning bright, and I gathered myself, ready to explode.

Then suddenly Justin’s hands were gone from me and the hallway was full of a harsher, deeper voice roaring, ‘Touch her again and I’ll fucking kill you!’

Smoke was there, and he’d grabbed the back of Justin’s suit, hurling him into the wall so violently Justin bounced off it. Then Smoke closed in again, punching Justin in the face. Once. Twice. Justin fell to the floor, groaning, but Smoke hadn’t finished. He kicked him in the ribs—a hard, driving blow. And again. And again.

My anger had begun to seep away, fear taking its place.

Smoke’s face was a mask of rage and I knew without a doubt that if I didn’t stop him he’d kill Justin—or put in him in the hospital at the very least.

I flung myself at Smoke’s back, pulling on the leather of his cut. ‘Stop it, Smoke! He’s not worth the effort—he’s not!’

But Smoke didn’t listen. His boot was connecting with Justin’s ribs again and again.

Trembling, I slid my arms around his lean, rock-hard body and laid my head against his back, letting him know that I was there.

‘Stop,’ I said hoarsely. ‘Please, Smoke. Stop.’

I could feel the heave of his chest and the shake in his muscles, the intensity of his rage. It was like the rage that burned in me. But there were better ways of letting it out than battering a man to death.

Hell, I shouldn’t have hit him myself—but then I owed him one.

I held on tight to Smoke and eventually he stopped, standing over Justin’s groaning body, his breathing fast and harsh in the enclosed space of the hallway.

I thought that maybe it was too late, that we’d have to call an ambulance, but eventually Justin moaned and rolled over, climbing slowly and painfully to his feet. His face was a mask of blood, his hand curled protectively over his ribs.

‘You’re fucking dead,’ he said viciously to Smoke, his voice thick and mangled. ‘No court in the state will give custody of Annie to her now. Especially not when I have you up on assault charges.’

He spat blood on the floor.

‘Have fun in jail, prick.’

Then he turned and limped out through the door.

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