Page 82 of Ruthless

After he kisses me hello, I shove the crinkled paper into his hand. “What exactly am I looking at,tesoro?”

I tap the top of the sheet. “Proof that the mole may have been a guard or member of the medical team on duty when Jackson Reed died.”

Chapter 32

Dante

I read through the evidence in search of Sara’s proof. I don’t find any mention of who treated Jackson last, and I don’t possess enough medical knowledge to judge if the notes on his vitals or injuries seem off. Which is funny. I spend so much time damaging the human body that I should probably understand more about how it functions.

Tossing the creased paper onto her bedside table, I nuzzle the graceful curve of her neck.

She smells so good.

“I’ll look into it.” An easy promise to offer her. After all, Sara’s been working her ass off, questioning every clinic visitor over the last several days. I’d hoped she could duplicate the Jackson scenario by getting a patient to open up after I broke them down, but so far, no luck.

I hate everything about this. These are the very same men and women who depend on me for safety, and every interrogation feels like a betrayal of that trust. Still, I can’t just allow a potential threat to Sara to walk away unscathed.

I’m only powerful enough to protect those I care aboutbecauseI show no mercy. If I change that, I risk damaging myreputation as a cold, unyielding bastardandthe relative safety that persona provides.

With the Council looking over my shoulder, I can’t afford to take that chance.

Stress over who I can and can’t trust eats at me. These days, I only relax my guard when I’m with Sara.

But I can’t continue like this forever, and neither can she. Because of me, Sara can never go back to living a normal life, and I don’t think she’s truly realized as much yet. When I first asked the Council for permission to abduct her, I promised I would get rid of her once I was done with my fun. While those plans have changed, I still can’t let her go home. She knows too much. The best I can do for her, and Jeremy for that matter, is help her escape. If she flees the city and changes her identity, she might be okay, but even hiding may not be enough if she doesn’t lie low. And most people struggle with remaining hidden forever.

Except running isn’t even possible unless I eliminate the latest threat.

Also, there’s the small issue of my heart revolting over the idea of Sara leaving for good.

“Why don’t you take a few days off from the clinic?” I place a kiss just below her ear, smiling when she shivers. “We can spend some time on your sight alignment and trigger control with your new pink Glock. And you can help me with Pistol. I’ve been so caught up with all this bullshit, I haven’t been able to play with her much, and I think she’s starting to feel neglected.”

Sara squirms free so she can look me in the eye. “You don’t believe me. About Jackson’s death.”

Her lips purse together. She wants to be useful, but I don’t see how the discrepancy overhowhe died is a path forward. Dead is dead. “I handpicked everyone on the medical teambecause I knew they would be easy to control. That, and they were heavily vetted.”

I don’t notice that I’m using my thumb to rub small circles on her ankle until she slaps my hand away. “Focus. What do you mean ‘easy to control’?”

Sighing, I shift on the bed and lean back on my hands. “They’re all being blackmailed. And if that isn’t enough reason for them to keep their mouths shut about what they see in here, the money should be. I pay them three times as much as what they’d make at a regular hospital.”

Sara’s mouth drops open, and she blinks at me, stunned. “Three times!”

“What?” I chuck her under the chin, and her lips snap shut. “Not enough? You and I never discussed pay for your invaluable work in the clinic, did we?” To my surprise, she rolls off the bed, even more agitated than before.

“Don’t try to distract me.” Marching over to the table, she picks the paper back up again and waves it in my face. “There isnoway Jackson Reed died of internal bleeding, and I have to figure out which of the nurses worked in the clinic that night. They could be our mole! You need to take this seriously.”

Rising from the bed, I stalk toward her and back her into the bedside table, planting my hands on either side of her hips. “Believe me,tesoro, I am.”

Sara appears uncertain. “Then I need you to takemeseriously.”

Where does this lack of confidence stem from?

I duck my head to catch her eyes again. “What makes you think I’m not?”

She pushes on my chest in a silent request for space, but I refuse to budge. If I have to keep her pinned against the nightstand all night long to obtain answers, I will. “Sara.”

“Because I’m a fuck up.”

I recoil in surprise. “You…what?”