Ruin & Rule (Pure Corruption MC #1)(43)
Author: Pepper Winters

My eyes snapped closed as a sob escaped my control.

It’s true.

He understands.

What had made him realize? What had finally shown I was telling the truth?

Mr. Steel prowled over the teal carpet, brandishing his gun. “Excuse me?” His voice darkened to black granite. “I’ll say if the deal’s off.” His finger tightened on the trigger. “Protected by Wallstreet or not, I won’t hesitate to kill you. Step aside.”

Kill stood to his full height, gathering furious energy. “It’s over. She’s not for sale.”

My body wanted to give out in relief. But questions. So many questions. How had this happened? How would I forgive him for not believing me up until now?

Mr. Steel shook his head, his lips twisting into a cold smile. “That’s not for you to decide, is it, you little fucker? Wallstreet’s in charge here. He assured me I’d have no issues dealing with you.” He dragged a hand through his bleached-blond hair. “Give her to me and I’ll forget what just happened.”

“Never,” Kill snarled. “She’s mine and she’s leaving with me. Like I said. Deal’s off.”

Walking backward, guiding me to the exit and freedom, Kill fumbled at the small of his back. Pulling free his own gun, he muttered, “Let it go, Steel. It’s over.”

Mr. Steel’s face went beetroot red. “Fine! Full control of the stock. Happy?” He dropped his gun in an act of kinship. “Full control—now hand over the girl.”

My heart leapt into my throat. Fear shot down my spine.

Was that all this was? A negotiation tactic to get full control?

You don’t believe that.

No. Not after seeing the shackles and barricades falling from Kill’s soul. He’d been more honest with me in that one second than in the entire week I’d been his captive.

Kill moved, faster and faster, to the exit. His large body blocked me from potential bullets but not from the pain if he was killed.

Mr. Steel growled, “What the fuck are you doing? You know who I am. Don’t be so stupid. Full control—you won! Dump the girl and I won’t fucking kill you.”

“Don’t want your fucking stock anymore. Told you. She’s not for sale.” Kill’s body trembled with aggression, his hand stayed up, pointing with his weapon. “We’re walking. Nothing you can do about it.”

My eyes shot between the two of them.

I didn’t see who moved first but Kill was the fastest. The boom of a gun exploding echoed in my ears as Kill shoved me to the ground. Then he was gone, plowing into Mr. Steel and tackling him to the ground.

I scrambled to my hands and knees as Kill’s fist connected wetly with Mr. Steel’s nose. Blood spurted all over his linen suit.

Mr. Steel swung at Kill’s head, only to lose more ground, and was subjected to a harsh volley of fists to his rib cage. The second Kill delivered the punishment, he stood up and kicked him in the side.

A horrible memory of him kicking me like that came and went, tangling with my joy of his remembering. How would I consolidate his stubbornness and the pain he’d caused with the happiness I felt that he’d finally listened? He’d treated me terribly. Did I have enough forgiveness inside to forget?

Two stewards appeared, one holding a shotgun. “Stop!”

Killian backed away, his fists covered in Mr. Steel’s blood. “Let us leave, and we’ll cause no more harm.”

Mr. Steel coughed, sitting up gingerly. “You think this is over? That you can come onto my boat, renege on a business arrangement, and then fucking hit me?”

“No. I realize what I’ve done. But I’ve already given her up once. I won’t do it again.” Kill’s eyes landed on mine, shooting fire into my heart.

“This isn’t over, Killian,” Mr. Steel hissed.

Kill nodded. “I know.”

A never-ending second ticked past. Mr. Steel stayed on the floor, his temper howling around us. Suddenly, he slouched. “Wallstreet owes me fucking huge for this.” Looking at his stewards, he ordered, “Don’t fire. Let them leave. I’ll deal with him later.”

Kill nodded in acknowledgement of whatever deal they’d just struck and stalked toward me. Effortlessly, he lifted me into his arms and, with a quick shift, threw me over his shoulder.

“Hey!” I clutched his jacket, blood rushing instantly to my head.

“You can shout at me all you want when we get out of here. For now, shut up,” he snapped, slapping me on my butt and aiming his pistol at Mr. Steel again. “Don’t move.”

Mr. Steel nodded, eyes narrowed. “Oh, I’ll make my move. When you least expect it.” Speaking to the stewards, he snarled, “Escort Mr. Killian and his whore off my yacht. Immediately.”

Kill walked backward, his arm never dropping or finger relaxing on the trigger.

Mr. Steel climbed painfully to his feet, spitting a wad of blood onto the carpet. I craned my neck, catching glimpses of his rage while hanging upside down. Kill had just made a powerful enemy—all because of me.

All because Lighter Boy burned and kidnapped me when he wasn’t supposed to. I needed to know what the hell was going on.

Kill never stopped inching backward. His muscles tight and bunched, his leather jacket a warm comfort beneath me. “I’ll make this right. There’s no reason to have bad blood between us.”

Mr. Steel laughed. “Get off my fucking boat. I’ll show you how much bad blood I can cause.”

Kill flinched.

What did this mean for him? How would the mysterious Wallstreet take the news that Kill couldn’t sell me?

It’s not my problem.

I had too many of those to think about more.

Kill continued to walk backward, training his weapon on the stewards who matched us step for step. He tripped a little as the edge of his shoe caught the lip of the inner door. I grabbed hold of the door frame, steadying both of us.

Without a word, he kept moving, backing into sunshine and past the spa and bar on the Seahorse’s gilded deck. Each footfall took us closer to the back of the yacht and awaiting speedboat.

“The driver works for Mr. Steel,” I said, pinching Kill’s black denim–covered butt.

“I know. But he won’t refuse to take us back. Not now. He’ll mean to teach me a lesson, and that will only be possible if Wallstreet approves it.”

“And will he?”

Kill shrugged, jostling me over his shoulder. “Possibly. Depends how pissed off he is.” Twisting his torso, he gently placed me upright. His emerald eyes were incandescent with feeling. The tips of his fingers kissed my cheek, nudging me gently in the direction of freedom. “Get in the boat.”

My mouth dried up, tongue twisting with everything I needed to say. “Just because you saved me in the end doesn’t mean I forgive you. We need to talk.”

He scowled. “Not here and definitely not now.” Spinning around, he focused on the stewards who waited for us to leave. “Get in the fucking boat. Now.”

I didn’t hesitate again.

Without looking back, I climbed down the staircase at the back of the yacht and onto the landing pad, where waves lapped and drenched my flip-flops. The sunshine kissed my skin, bringing my attention to my half-nakedness.

Oh my God. I’d completely forgotten. So consumed with the standoff of trafficker and buyer and numb to anything but the confusion glowing in my heart. Slapping an arm over my chest, I awkwardly climbed into the boat. The skipper gave me a smirk, then looked away the moment Kill jumped into the vessel.

Mr. Steel appeared at the top of the yacht, looking down on us with evil stewing in his gaze. “This isn’t over, Killian.”

“I never expected it would be,” Kill replied.

With a slight nod from Mr. Steel, the skipper teased the engine and we shot away into whitecaps and wind. I welcomed the whoosh of air as we sped away, leaving madness behind.

Narrowing my eyes, I took one last look at Mr. Steel and the life I’d narrowly missed. Then I looked at Arthur Killian, and the questions began to build. Wave after wave of them slowly rose inside my mind, damming in one churning mass thanks to the great wall protecting my memories.

One thing was for sure.

This had to end.

Tonight.

Tonight I would know who I truly was.

And Arthur would help me remember.

Chapter Sixteen

Fuck.

It was real.

She was real.

She was alive.

And I’d… I’d…

What have I done?

—Kill

Tension.

I’d felt it. I’d witnessed it. But I’d never been smothered by it.

The fifteen-minute boat ride was torture. My heart struggled to beat beneath the thick waves of anger coming from Kill.

Anger?

I couldn’t understand it. Why anger?

He didn’t say a word. Didn’t even glance my way.

But I felt his every thought, every speculation—lashing me like a whip.

Everything had changed.

Everything was different.

I sat beside him, red hair streaming in the wind, clutching my naked chest. I wished I had the bronze dress—anything to hide what I didn’t want others to see—but the dress and the bikini top were scattered on the floor of Mr. Steel’s yacht. All I had was the precariously tied bikini bottoms.