Ruining Me: The Insidious Seven MC, Book Two, page 38
Hundreds of pounds of pressurized water spray erratically from the pipe, drenching Matteo and Sofee as she moves. She drops her body weight, clearly not caring about the sharp blade coming so close to slicing her throat as she slips from his grasp, and seizes the bloody butcher knife behind them. Less than gracefully, she twists her body and thrusts the blade into the first body part she can find, which happens to be his upper thigh.
Matteo howls as the sharp knife slices through his flesh easily before Sofee falls to the ground, scrambling to get away from the predator like a wounded animal. My blind fury envelops me, calming me in a way I never thought possible as I rush the fucker, trusting Liam to cover his sister.
I toss my gun to the side, preferring to end this lunatic's life with my bare hands. He’s just about to reach for my girl again, a menacing snarl on his lips, as I slam my shoulder into him and we fly back.
The force of my tackle sends us both crashing into the metal table behind him, denting and caving it in under our weight. He lashes out, attempting to slice my face in half with the same blade he used to threaten Sofee's life. I quickly grab his wrist, twisting it with all my strength until I hear the distinct snap of his cartilage popping under my grip.
I bare my teeth as the blade falls to the table below, and he roars beneath me. Before I can see it coming, his elbow flies out, catching me on the side of my head, making me see stars. I stumble back, trying to remain on my feet as I shake off the sudden disorientation as water pours on both of us.
Matteo’s jaw hardens as he grips the knife still protruding from his thigh and yanks it out with a quick jerk. I kick out as he lunges for me with the knife, but I miss as he swiftly avoids the blow and takes another shot. His blade is headed straight for my gut until I move at the last second. I narrowly avoid being gutted before the knife hits resistance against my side.
For a moment, I expect pain to flare, but instead, the metallic whine of metal on metal registers in my ears just before a huge plume of suffocating smoke fills the space between us. My eyes water and my lungs revolt as the smoke forces us apart. His knife protruding from the smoke bomb in my holster.
Flinging my gaze behind me, I spot Liam kneeling on the ground in front of his sister as the building fills with toxic smoke. I quickly rip my vest and holster off my body and toss it into the pit in the middle of the room. The beasts inside go wild as the habitat becomes nothing but a contaminated death trap.
“Get her the fuck out of here!” I shout to my best friend before turning back toward Matteo, trusting Liam will get Sofee to safety while I deal with this psycho. But when I turn to face him again, all I see is thick smoke.
“No, you have to help him,” I barely hear Sofee beg her brother as he rushes her out of the building. He ignores her pleas in an attempt to get her to safety. It takes everything in me to pull all my attention away from her. Now that I know Sofee is safe from this monster, I can focus completely on ending him.
Backing up, I find the only entrance, grab the almost shattered door, and slam it shut, locking the deadbolt to keep others out and my target trapped. I spot the illuminated wall displaying an array of knives and blades to choose from. Quickly, I grab one of the smaller ones and conceal it in my palm before scanning the room.
“Declan!” My gut tightens as I hear Sofee scream my name somewhere in the distance. Hopefully, it's far away and she can’t see what I have to become to keep her safe. I want nothing more than to run to her, to see that she's alive and whole. But unlike the last time I ran into a death trap for her, I can’t just follow her pleas to escape my untimely demise. This time, I must stay and save her from the same monster I had no hope of slaying the first time around.
My lungs scream for fresh air, the only thing keeping them from completely filling with smoke is my mask snugly fit to my nose and mouth. My eyes burn as I blink to clear the tears caused by the smoke. It’s so thick, I have no hope of seeing much more than a couple of feet in front of me.
“Is this really how you want to die, little Morelli?” Matteo’s disembodied voice sounds above the low hiss of the hungry beasts at the center of the room. I try to locate the direction of the voice, but it’s useless as it seems to bounce all around me.
“I should be asking you the same question,” I say as I step lightly around the center pit, stalking my prey with the same animal mentality as the predators within. “Why go through all this trouble to play a deep con just to pull this half-assed plan out of nowhere?” I ask, hoping to keep him talking so I can find him in the hellish fog. “You must've known we would find you after you outed yourself back at the hospital.”
His laugh sounds like an ominous warning, drawing my attention in front of me. “I will admit, this was never the plan. I was quite enjoying playing with all of you. I wasn’t ready for the game to end so soon. But, circumstances changed and I had to adapt,” he admits, his voice sounding impossibly close.
My eyes scan the area in front of me as the smoke slowly starts to settle. The bright fluorescent lights casting demonic shadows all around as it starts to clear. Soon, I'll be able to see my enemy and end him permanently.
“What changed?” I ask, keeping my blade in front of me with a steady hand.
He laughs again, beckoning me to turn around as the sound echoes behind me. “Someone shooting at my target,” he says, causing my breath to catch in my throat. I still myself, listening to his words reverberate around the room, disorienting my senses completely as his revelation sinks into my bones. Matteo wasn’t the shooter?
“It’s my own fault, really. I overlooked other interested parties that could force you to tell her the truth and effectively drive her into the hands of another man.” His voice becomes impossibly loud and echoes from every direction. I tighten my grip around my small knife as dread fills my gut. “I couldn’t have her scampering off to a different city,” his voice is so close, but I still can’t tell what direction to look. My pulse jumps in my throat as a shiver works its way down my spine. Instinct tells me to move, but I’m frozen, rooted in place as his voice finally resonates clearly. “So I decided it was time to make my move.”
His deep voice comes from right behind me before I spin on my heels and try to slash him. He jumps back just in time and deflects my quick move before crashing his body into mine. He captures my wrist and locks it in his grip, stopping me from stabbing him as he presses his weight against me.
He’s a lot stronger than I gave him credit for, as his body weight forces my back to slam into the containment rail keeping the bloodthirsty beasts at bay. The smell of his blood leaking from his knife wound making them feral in their search for a fresh meal.
He pulls back just to slam his hardened fist into my face. My already damaged nose flares with blinding pain that threatens to make me black out as he hits me repeatedly, nearly causing me to lose my grip on my knife.
“Give up, Declan,” he breathes above me before settling his curved blade against my cheek. I can feel my blood dripping from an open gash along the bridge of my nose, my mask not doing much to soak it up before it has a chance to run down the side of my face. He pushes me back until my feet almost come off the floor. My back bows painfully as he dangles me over the pit full of hungry alligators.
“I’ve battled hundreds of men like you,” he spits while pushing his blade into my cheek, slicing open my flesh. I gnash my teeth together and keep my eye contact steady with his. “Weak, pathetic, pussy men who would rather run from a life of responsibility and honor than stand and fight for your territory. Would you like to know how it ended for them?” he taunts. So consumed with his own egotistical will that he doesn’t realize everything he says about me is the furthest thing from the truth.
I may have fled from my old life, but that doesn’t mean I’m weak. It means I was strong enough to recognize that was never the life I wanted. The life I needed. And I discovered honor and responsibility within a family that has consistently supported me. Men like Pelosi will never comprehend what it means to be surrounded by people who will not only bleed for you but who will bleed with you. Stand with you no matter the cost.
“You’re wrong,” I rasp as his knife sinks deeper into my cheek. I clench my jaw to fight off the blinding pain as my grip tightens around my knife. I grit my teeth as I raise my face to his, his blade slicing me deeply. “There are no other men like me,” I growl before using all my strength to ram my knee up into his injured thigh. He bellows in agony above me, losing focus on his mission to slice me open long enough for me to turn my head away and dislodge it from my cheek. Then I turn to face him again just as quickly, lean back, and slam my forehead into his nose.
His blood squirts from his now broken nose, splattering all over my mask before he loses his grip on the knife. I swiftly twist my body with a roar of outrage, slamming him against the railing. His breath escapes him in a rush as his body sags. I pull him up, releasing all my fury as I bear down on him.
With my small blade, I press the pointed tip against his throat and push. His eyes widen as I pierce the bare skin beneath his Adam's apple and slide it in slowly. Our eyes meet, his deep green irises registering pain as his pupils dilate. He struggles beneath me, attempting to push me away in sheer desperation as waves of panic emanate from him.
My nose curls in disgust as I twist my knife and push him back. His hands grasp onto me, wildly looking for purchase as he careens backward toward the pit of nightmares. The hissing and growls intensify as he loses all balance, and I let him go, letting him fall back. The fleshy slap of him landing in the swamp sludge is almost comical until his strangled wails of agony fill the room. His wails are muffled by the knife in his throat before a mighty crush fills my ears.
The sickening sound of bones being crushed overshadows his pleas for mercy as the beasts fight over him. Most of the smoke has cleared now, allowing me to watch with perverted delight as they rip him to shreds. His eyes are wide, filled with terror as he reaches out to me as if I'm his savior before one of the gators opens its jaws wide and crushes his skull under its unyielding teeth. And then, all at once, blissful silence.
THIRTY-ONE
SOFEE
ONE WEEK LATER
A knock at the door causes me to nearly jump out of my skin just as I’m crowned Princess Sofee. I sit up straight and jerk my gaze toward the door, accidentally dropping my teacup full of pretend tea. The high-pitched giggle of my niece further grating on my frazzled nerves. Forcing a smile to my lips, I crinkle my nose playfully at the newly crowned Queen Elisia despite my bad mood. She waves her magic wand at me with an adorable giggle, her shiny pink crown glittering brighter than any real diamond ever could. We both turn to watch her dad, my brother, Oliver, walking into the room.
Glancing toward the locked front door again, I brace myself for yet another round of watching my heart being stomped on and crushed beneath the leather boot of my visitor.
Visitor? My inner voice scoffs. More like your stalker.
I pull the blanket in my lap up to my chest and curl my feet beneath me as I stare at the mustard-yellow door across the room. Shadows dance below the door, barely visible through the small gap between it and the floor. My stomach churns at the thought of seeing the man who lurks behind it.
Queen Elisia picks up my forgotten tea cup and thrusts it into my empty hand. “Aunt Sopee,” she whines.
I smother a smile as she mispronounces my name in the most adorable way. Grabbing the cup as best I can between my pointer finger and thumb brace, I hold it up with a grin. My thumb still aches when I move it due to the intentional dislocation, but each day it becomes a little easier. Much like the bruises and scabs on my wrists and knees, as well as the knife wound in the hollow of my throat. With each passing day, I heal a bit more than the last. And soon, I’ll be able to convince myself that it never happened at all.
Is that what you want? To play pretend for the rest of your life?
My lips part in a gasp as I ignore the internalized question and make believe the cup is actually filling with real liquid. Her face lights up as I bring the cup to my lips and sip the magical tea.
“Mmmm,” I hum as I rub my belly. “That is the best tea ever, Your Majesty.”
She giggles again as she sways back and forth, her shimmery blue dress waving with the motion. Her attire is much more fitting for royalty than my baggy T-shirt, short shorts, and bare feet. Then she takes off after Oliver as he saunters through the living room and heads to ward off my waiting visitor once more. A giggle escapes Elisia’s lips as he picks her up and sets her on his hip before looking back at me. His chocolate brown eyes pose a silent question as his brows climb his forehead.
This has been our routine for over a week now. Every day, there is a knock at his door. Always at nine am, like clockwork. Every single day, Oli asks if I will finally entertain the man who so obviously craves my attention. And every day, I give him the same answer.
Shaking my head in a curt jerk, I refuse Declan entry into my safe haven away from him.
It shouldn’t come as a shock that I could no longer stay at the clubhouse given what’s happened. I haven’t forgiven anyone, so how could I be expected to go back to living there as if nothing has happened? So, I’ve been staying with Oliver and his family until I can figure out my next move. And even though my chest aches at the thought of leaving New Orleans, so far, I just don’t see any other option.
I obviously quit my job, no longer able to stand the place I shared so many memories with someone I never really knew in the first place. So, not only do I not have a job holding me here, but I also still have no place to live. And apart from Oli and his wife, I have nobody to keep me here. No ties to this place that has held so much heartbreak.
I still haven’t been able to face anyone since that day. The day I watched my best friend slice an innocent man's throat right in front of me. I squeeze my eyes closed tightly as images of bright red blood spraying into the air assault my memory. Holding my breath, I ward off the images until black dots are dancing behind my eyelids and my head swims.
At the sound of Oliver unlocking and opening his front door, my eyes snap open. The small desire to catch a glimpse of the man who crushed my soul overpowers my rational thoughts. Blinking rapidly to clear the dark spots clouding my vision, I crane my neck to try and peek at the man on my brother's porch. But, instead of a mysterious man shrouded in darkness and sin, I'm surprised to see a flash of purple hair.
A jolt of panic surges up my spine, and a cold sweat breaks out on my back as I realize that Liam and Tatum are standing outside my door. I suck in a sharp breath as Oliver opens it wide, allowing the unwanted visitors entry into my sanctuary. As fast as I can, I fling the blanket off me and try to make a break for it.
“Look, babe. I told you she looked like a runner,” Tatum’s sunny voice brings my feet to a screeching stop.
Too late.
I silently curse myself before turning to face them, placing a menacing scowl on my brow so they know they are not welcome here. Oliver closes the door behind them, drawing my attention, and in turn, my scowl.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he says as he steps around Liam’s bulky figure blocking the entryway. Readjusting his daughter on his hip, he shrugs. “You told me you didn’t want to see the broody one. You never said anything about Li,” he says as if this is all no big deal before leaving the room.
Rolling my eyes, I turn my attention back to the couple standing in front of me. Liam stands with his hands firmly in the front pockets of his vest as he stares at me. His eyes are softer than I’ve seen them directed at me in a long time. He shifts on his feet, as though too afraid to be the first one to speak. Though it seems Tatum has no such problem as she pipes up.
“You look good, Sof,” she says, her smile inviting and warm. Her hair is swept up and away from her face today, making her look youthful and pert. She glances around the room until her eyes lock onto the couch behind me. She nods toward it as I continue to stare daggers at her. “Is that thing comfortable? It looks n—”
“If all you want to do is make small talk, you can leave,” I growl, cutting her off with my sharp words.
Her pretty face tenses as she cringes. “Okay, straight to the point then,” she says before glancing at my brother. She gives him a pointed look, and when he doesn’t seem to take the hint, she slaps his broad chest with the back of her hand, drawing a grunt from him.
“Shit, yeah, sorry,” he says, seemingly out of sorts. As I look at him closely, I can see how tired he looks. He has dark rings below his eyes and his normally golden complexion looks ashen. His long face makes me consider the toll of losing both his best friend and his sister on the same day.
He pulls his hands from his pockets and gestures to the couch I’ve been sleeping on for the past week. “Can we sit and talk?”
“I don’t know, Liam. Are you sure I’m not too delicate to handle this talk?” I say, crossing my arms over my chest and popping my hip to the side. Raising my nose toward the ceiling, I become the embodiment of obstinance. Liam releases a long sigh as his face falls, letting me know I’ve gotten my point across.
“Okay, I deserved that,” he says “Come on, Sof. Please. I promise we’re here to tell you everything and…” he sighs, his tone dropping as if weighed down by burdon. “Look, I realized how fucked up I’ve been treating you for awhile now, and… I swear, all I want to do is apologize. We’ll even leave right after if you want,” he pleads, his brows furrowing with sincerity.
I briefly consider making him get down on his knees to grovel, even going so far as to pick out a spot on the floor for him to kneel. But, the longer he looks at me with those goddamn puppy dog eyes, the weaker my resolve becomes until I’m forced to relent.
“Fine,” I say shortly, uncrossing my arms and plopping back down onto the sofa with an agitated huff. I watch them with anger lit in my eyes as they settle into the two armchairs in front of me. The only thing separating us being the plush cream-colored rug below our feet.
