Page 134 of Ruthless Redemption

“What’s it going to be?” Matthew asks.

Remy shoves a hand behind his neck, clawing at his muscles with tense fingers. “Abri will fucking kill us.”

“She won’t.” I shake my head. “She’ll be protected here. Nobody will dare to touch her.”

The brothers exchange a glance, troubled and bitter.

“I know it’s a shock.” Matthew reaches into his jacket pocket, retrieving the second magazine. “But I’ll trust you with our lives if you trust me with this decision.”

I hold my breath, the oxygen festering in my lungs as Salvatore focuses on the offering.

We all stare at him. Watching. Waiting.

“I can’t believe this,” he mutters to himself. “I don’t know the first thing about Lorenzo’s business.”

“You won’t need to.” Matthew inches the magazine closer. “You’ll be taught what to do. You both will.”

My heart pounds painful beats as Salvatore falls quiet. Contemplative.

We can’t just stand here. We need to do something.

“Let’s fucking do this.” Remy steps forward and snatches the magazine. “But there’s no point giving this to him. His shoulder is wrecked.” He holds out a hand to Salvatore, wordlessly demanding the gun. “I guess it’s my job now to guard the future director of all things underhanded and illegal, right?”

Salvatore mutters a curse. “This isn’t happening.”

“It is.” Matthew releases my hip, taking my hand instead. “But not right now. First we need to confirm everything with Lorenzo, then we get to hunt Emmanuel down.”

Remy shoves the weapon into the holster beneath his jacket. “Well, time’s ticking, and we still need to get back to Abri, so let’s get this shit done.” He starts for the yard, his shoulders strong, his head high in the face of fear.

“You won’t regret it, Salvo.” Matthew reaches out to squeeze his arm. “It’s the right choice.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Give it time.” He leads me toward the door, but I’m slow to follow.

I can’t walk out there like this.

“What’s wrong?” Matthew turns to me.

“I can’t hold your hand out there.” I wince. “I don’t want to look weak in front of him. I need to stand on my own. To walk without you.”

He straightens in offense. “We’re not weak together, Layla.”

“He doesn’t know that. And I don’t want him interpreting my affection as vulnerability.”

“Okay.” He waves a hand toward the door. “Whatever you need. Just remember, your safety is my priority, Layla. And if, for one second, I think Emmanuel is becoming an imminent threat, I won’t just be holding your hand, I’ll be using my body as a shield. Agreed?”

I don’t answer. I don’t want him putting his life on the line when we both decided to weather this storm.

“Agreed.” This time, his tone isn’t questioning. It’s a statement. A demand.

“Yes. Okay.” I walk for the door, reaching out to drag a hand across Matthew’s stomach when I pass. I need one last touch. One lingering contact before I’m on my own.

“I’ll go first.” Salvatore strides around me to lead the way—a move of dominance or protection, I’m not sure.

I follow, Matthew close at my back, practically walking in my shoes.

A water fountain trickles somewhere in the distance. Birds squawk an occasional song. My thundering pulse drowns it all out.

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