Page 1 of Ruthless Redemption

1

LAYLA

I slapmy palms against the inside of the car window as a scream sears my throat.

My brother is outside, a few yards down the alley, pummeling his fists into Matthew’s chest. His face. Smashing. Beating.

“Stop.” My shriek reverberates through the Lincoln’s interior while I fight harder against the glass, then wrench at the door handle. “Cole. Stop.”

I’m locked in here. Trapped by the order of the man my brother’s attempting to beat to death right in front of my eyes.

“Shut up,” Bishop snarls from the driver’s seat. “I can’t fucking think with your wailing.”

No. I won’t.

I don’t want Matthew to die today. Not like this, anyway. If he’s going to leave this world it will be by my hands.

I bang harder. Scream louder.

Matthew charges, shocking me into silence, ramming his shoulder into Cole’s chest. He grapples my brother backward in a bear hug, gaining control as Hunter watches them from a few feet away, his gun aimed in their direction.

Then they stop.

From devastation to inaction in the space of seconds, and I can’t understand why.

“Shit,” Bishop mutters under his breath.

“What?” I shove forward in the back seat. “What’s happening?”

“Langston pulled a gun on your brother.”

My heart nosedives to the pit of my gut. “Do something.” I shove at Bishop’s shoulder. “Let me out. Let me stop this.”

“Shut the fuck up so I can listen.” He lowers his window and hoists his head outside.

I can’t hear the exchange. Even if my pulse wasn’t a thunderous staccato, I’m not sure I’d be able to comprehend the words. There’s nothing but my panted breath and thethump, thump, thumpof my frantic heartbeats.

“If he’s dead, she’s dead, too,” Bishop yells. “I don’t have a fondness for the bitch like he does.”

I don’t fear for my life. What frightens me is Bishop’s ignorance as he attempts to intimidate my brother. Nobody threatens Cole. At least, not if they plan to live.

Matthew glances over his shoulder to us. Our eyes meet in a clash of emotion. I see his determination. His power. And beneath the already swelling cheekbone and blood on his lip, I glimpse a man with regrets, too.

Good. I hope he chokes on remorse.

He’s made every moment we spent together an agonizing memory. Each blink of remembrance is a knife through my chest.

At the time, I’d been stupid enough to think we were falling in love. That our connection was driven by fate. The reality was, the only thing molding us together were his lies. His manipulation.

I despise how easily I succumbed to feeling wanted.

Matthew returns his attention to Cole and retreats a step, raising the gun in the air. He makes a show of surrender as he lets the weapon fall limp in his fingers. They’re talking. Maybe arguing. I can’t tell. And with each mouthed word, my stomach twists a little more.

I don’t want him informing my brother of the mistakes I’ve made.

I need to get out of here.

I have to go home.

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