Page 20 of Ruthless Redemption

“I love you, little fish.” My voice breaks. It’s only slight. The start of an avalanche that threatens to buckle me.

“I love you, too. Night.”

The line disconnects. My heart wrenches.

But she’s all right. Cole weaved fiction for me. I need to be grateful for that. He’s still doing everything in his power to shield her from my poor decisions.

I delete the call log from the cell, then let my arms fall limp at my sides as I focus on the moonlight reflecting against the inky-black ocean. I have to figure out what the hell I’m doing. How to redeem myself in the eyes of my family.

Cole said I need to fix my mistakes.

How do I do that? Where do I even start?

“Is she okay?” Matthew approaches.

I wrap his jacket tight around me, needing another barrier against him. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” He stops a few feet away, his commanding frame stalking my periphery. “Don’t ask? Don’t care? Don’t speak?”

“All of the above.” I hold out his cell.

He takes the device but those calloused fingers linger on mine. “You need someone to talk to. To vent to.”

“Are you serious?” I release a low murmur of a chuckle as I drop my arm back to my side, my laughter increasing as he looks at me in pity. “You’rethe reason I need to vent. You get that, right?You’rethe reason I’m in need of everything right now—clothes, money, safety, shelter. I have nothing. Not a dime to my name or a shred of dignity. All because of you.”

“You’re safe here. And like I’ve already said, I can give you whatever you need. All you have to do is ask.”

I shouldn’t have to beg for the things he took from me.

“Ask, Layla,” he murmurs.

No. I was willing to demean myself and jump through hoops to speak to Stella, but I’d rather live in the same clothes for the rest of my life than ask him for help.

“I can take care of you.” He steps into my personal space, awakening all my nerve endings.

I smile, scoff, then finally sink into a deep sigh. “Do you not understand your role? Why are you acting like a misunderstood victim when you’re the villain? You’re vile, Matthew.” Handsome and brilliant, yet so incredibly vile. “You’re depraved, immoral, and goddamn evil.”

The pity slowly seeps from his narrowing eyes, his gaze turning predatory.

I fight against another shiver.

He’s looked at me like that before. In the bedroom. Between satin sheets. With his fingers gripping my skin and his teeth scraping my heated flesh.

I hate him for stoking those memories to life. I hate even more that my body welcomes it.

I clamp my mouth shut and glare, hoping the action will stop my tongue tingling.

“I’m depraved?” He inches closer, until we’re almost chest to chest. “Immoral? Evil?” He quirks a brow. He’s so close I can feel the heat emanating off him, can breathe his essence into my lungs. “Tell me,amore mio, what part of that description turns you on the most?”

He’s right. I am turned on.

Despite the hatred and fury, he still makes me burn. But that’s muscle memory. A miscommunication between mind and body. It won’t last long.

“The devil comes in an enticing package,” I purr. “That doesn’t mean I’m willing to see past all the pretty ribbon now that your true colors have been exposed.”

He leans in, those brown irises unfathomably dark as he peers down his nose at me. “But this enticing package knows how to make you feel good.”

He does. Oh,God, how he does.

---