Page 176 of Ruin Me Gently

Silas let out a slow breath, turned to me and enveloped me into a full-body embrace. “I’m sorry you had to see the video,” he murmured.

My hands gripped the fabric of his shirt. “It’s fine. I wanted to see it. It’s not like it didn’t happen.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

I was done thinking about Clark. Done thinking about what had happened. I looked up at Silas, at the way his brows were drawn together like he was trying to puzzle out how I was actually feeling. Soft. Worrying.Alwaysworrying.

So I leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I want to steal a book and eat leftovers.”

His lips tugged up into a smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I patted his chest. “I need carbs and historical romance. Come on, Batman.”

CHAPTER FORTY TWO

The folder Finn hadbrought round earlier that day sat open on my desk. The ink spelled out name after name, address after address. Last movements. Last known locations. The dead ends the police had hit.

Everything I needed to find Clark Thorn.

It was the dead of night. The penthouse was silent, the city nothing but a distant glow against the glass. I’d snuck away when Lilith was deep in sleep, her breathing slow and steady. I hadn’t wanted to move, hadn’t wanted to leave. But I had work to do.

Now, I sat at the desk in my home office, laptop casting a cold blue glow against my skin.

Shit. This was illegal.

But the police weren’t doing their jobs, so someone had to.

Metadata analysis scrolled across my screen—each one a thread I’d tried to pull, hoping something would unravel. Cell tower pings. IP logs. Location history.

But there were no calls logged. No emails. No social media activity. No credit card usage. No hotel bookings. No hospital check-ins. Nothing.

I didn’t believe in ghosts. But Clark Thorn was doing a damn good impression of one.

Coward. Spineless, pathetic,gutlesscoward. The kind of man who put his hands on a woman and ran when it didn’t go his way. The kind of man who left bruises and blood behind like signatures—but only when he thought he’d get away with it. I didn’t think I was capable of murder, but why the fuck hadn’t I killed him when I had the chance?

He wasn’t some mastermind. He wasn’t smart. He’d pulled his bullshit stunt in public. He wasn’t careful.

So whycouldn’t I find him?

I hadn’t been looking for him before. I never thought I’d needed to. The only person I’d ever watched, ever tracked, washer.And I should’ve seen it coming. I should’veknown.

She should’ve never been in that alley.

She shouldn’t have had todealwith this.

If I’d just done something different—if I hadn’t been so fucking slow to act, if I’d been smarter, if I’d—

I clenched my jaw. “It’s not my fault.” The words came out scraped, hoarse, barely above a whisper, but theyhadto be said.

Itwasn’tmy fault. But I could do something about it now. I’d found her in time. She was in my bed, safe, healing.

Clark was still out there. But he wouldn’t be for long.

“What isn’t your fault?”

I snapped my laptop shut, scraping the papers off the desk and shoving them into a drawer.

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