Ruin & Rule (Pure Corruption MC #1)(38)
Author: Pepper Winters

“Life happened, sweetheart. Just like it’s happening to you.”

I couldn’t stop shaking. “You need to let someone in. You have to stop hurting!”

“There’s no space for anyone but me.”

“No. There’s no space for anyone but her!”

He pushed me—such a juvenile thing to do but the rage in his eyes glittered dangerously.

I slid on the leather, rubbing my knee where his large fingers had touched me. “What do you feel when you look at me? Do you see the girl you loved or do you see the girl you’re about to sell? Is that why you can’t stand me? Because I remind you so much of a girl that you let down in your past?”

He exploded.

Tearing off his seat belt, he wrenched open the door and flew from the car. In cyclonic rage, he punched a street sign, then whirled around and kicked the SUV tire. He glowered at me through the open door. “Shut up! One more word about things you don’t understand, and I’ll knock you out so cold, you’ll wake up belonging to someone you’ve never seen and I’ll be long gone.”

Shaking out the pain in his knuckles, he snarled, “Understand?”

“Understand, Buttercup? I expect to see you there. I don’t want to be the only one telling our parents that we want to be together.”

I smiled, beaming at the green-eyed boy I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. “I will. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Jagged agony lacerated my heart as knowledge blazed bright and horrid.

I made a promise to be there. We both did. But neither of us kept that promise.

We never saw each other again.

Our love died forever two weeks after my fourteenth birthday—six months before he turned eighteen, so close to having everything we’d ever wanted.

I crumbled in on myself. The memory came with emotions too overwhelming to process. Why had it been the last time I’d ever seen him? What happened to us? What horrible tragedy was my mind trying to hide?

The fire.

Blood.

Gunshots.

Screaming.

My heart tried to leap from my chest. The stench of death suffocated my lungs. The fire was lit to cover up a murder. It consumed the corpses of…

The wall grew thicker, firmer, lacing itself with padlocks and heavy chains, determined not to let me see.

Whose blood did I crawl through to safety while the flames of hell turned me to cinders? Who dropped the match that stole my life and memories?

Killian breathed hard, not offering any consolation as I came apart before him. The memory of a love so pure and unsullied buckled my lungs and I sobbed.

I thought I was done in the dining room with the cloying scent of pizza. But I wasn’t. Not truly.

This was my breaking point. Right here, on the side of the road, on the way to be sold.

Wrapping my arms around my rib cage, I surrendered to the keening rage and grief inside. I allowed it to spew forth, exorcising my lackless memory and torrenting over my knees. With each sob, I curled further until my forehead touched my knees and still I kept folding. Folding in on myself, becoming a piece of origami, twisting from the girl I wished I was to nothing more than a commodity to sell.

I wasn’t aware of anything as my world spiraled into grief.

I forgot about Killian and yielded to the burn of scalding tears.

I didn’t see him stalk around the car.

I didn’t hear him open my door.

I didn’t care.

About anything anymore.

Burrowing my face into my knees, I cried harder, purging myself of everything that had happened.

A comforting pressure rested on my shoulder blades. I curled harder, my arms crushed between my stomach and legs.

The pressure moved to my biceps, forcing me upright—demanding I abandon my sanctuary and straighten.

No!

I wanted to remain cocooned and as small as possible.

I fought the pressure, but Kill gave me no choice but to ease upright, revealing my rivering eyes and blotchy cheeks.

I frowned in confusion. Kill stood with his face tight and gaze churning. He hands dropped from my body the moment I obeyed and sat up. Quickly, I looked away. I couldn’t see him. Not after what he’d said and done—how remote and unfeeling he was.

My tears flowed harder as Kill unbuckled my seat belt, and without a word, tugged me into his arms.

The force of his embrace dragged me close. I crashed against his chest. His heart raged beneath my ear, chugging as fast as mine.

His scent of winds and leather wrapped around me like a soft blanket, his strong grip locking me to him so I could never escape.

It instantly felt like… home.

His smell, his warmth, his solidness. I knew. My body responded and another cry escaped my lips.

I didn’t want to question why he’d given in. Why he’d granted me safety in his embrace. But I would take full advantage.

Wrapping my arms around him, I held him as tight as humanly possible while misery continued to crash. I didn’t hold him for solace, I held him for an anchor, so I wasn’t swept away by tears.

Pressing my face against his chest, I expected nothing more. The fact that he hugged me was more than I’d ever hoped.

But then his hold lashed tighter, squeezing hard and strong. He held me like a man who was eternally sorry and wanted his body to transmit the measure more surely than words. He held me like a man saying good-bye.

Snuggling into his chest, I sucked in a heavy breath.

This was where I belonged. Here. With the man from my nightmares. The boy from my dreams.

“Arthur…” I trembled.

He stiffened, pushing me away. Dropping his arms, the static heat from our embrace faded into the air. His voice bristled. “I’m sorry.”

My eyes locked onto his, while I attempted to wipe away sticky tears on my cheeks.

His forehead furrowed. “I’m a bastard—I know that—but I’m not normally this nasty. I truly am sorry for what I’ve done—for kicking you and treating you so cruelly. You don’t deserve it.” His green gaze remained unreadable, locked from all emotion, arms rigid by his sides.

I nodded, swallowing back the strange feelings that were so real, yet years too late. “I understand. You can’t stand to suffer what happened in the past.”

He nodded. “Just…” He sighed. “Let’s agree to disagree. No matter what you say or do, you’ll never get me to believe you. I’ve lived for too long believing things others wanted me to believe, and it’s brought me nothing but hardship. I know what I saw. I know what I feel. She’s gone, and I won’t have her memory tarnished.”

His shoulders slumped. “Just… accept and let’s move on. Okay? It’s best for both of us.”

I hung my head, not wanting to look into his familiar gaze. He wanted me to drift away—to stop reminding him of the pain inside.

He was weak.

“I’ll accept that.” Lowering my voice, I pleaded, “But please let me go. Drop me off at the nearest police station, and I swear on my life you’ll never see me again. Just please—” My voice cracked again. “I don’t want to be sold.”

For the longest moment, he stared at the ground. Thoughts flashed over his face, ideas forming then discarded. Hope remained in my heart but I knew it was hopeless.

He raised his head. “If there was something I could do, I’d do it. I’d let you go, truly. But this is above my head now. Things are going on that even I’m not privy to and I can’t go against orders.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

He smiled sadly. “Won’t. He’s the only person that’s ever been there for me. Thick and thin. He took me from my ruined beginning and gave me an empire to rule. I’ll be forever grateful and won’t go behind his back.”

My heart panged for his loyalty, for his love. The love I wasn’t worthy of.

My head hung and silence fell between us.

I didn’t say a word—no acknowledgment of his decision or argument for my freedom. It was over.

After a minute, Kill nodded as if I’d accepted his skewed promise. Pressing his lips together, he closed my door and climbed back into the driver’s seat.

It was done. I’d fought and lost. He’d argued and won.

Our time was over and I now had to face the future.

The next time Kill stopped the car we were at the harbor.

He parked and climbed out, coming to open my door and offer his hand. It seemed the fight in the car had given him closure and he treated me like any other girl he’d been told to sell.

Not that I knew what that was like, of course.

Taking his hand, I slid from the SUV. Squinting against the midafternoon sun, I asked, “How many?”

His eyes remained emotionless as he slammed my door and locked the car with the remote. “How many what?”

Taking my hand again, more out of imprisonment than togetherness, he led me toward the dock and the glittering teal ocean. His grip was dry and warm, encircling my fingers in a way that made my body sing with electricity. He could deny he knew me. He could yell and fight against everything I’d tried to show him, but he couldn’t hide the connection between our bodies.

“How many girls have you trafficked?” Sadness sat on my chest. I hated to think that this man could be involved with something so wrong. It was worse than theft… It was tantamount to murder. Effectively cutting a woman’s life span into the will of an owner who might grow bored of her within a few hours.