Page 131 of Velvet Corruption

But instead, the car just…pulled away.

Like they had seen exactly what they came to see.

And Ruby?

She was still staring after it, her face pale in the glow of the streetlights.

“Probably some kids doing drugs. I wouldn’t worry too much about them,” I said. “Come on. Let’s go back inside.”

I heard her swallow. “I guess you’re the expert.”

I was the expert.

And I hoped like hell I was right.

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Ruby

Ididn’t remember deciding to follow him. But I was inside again—his hand around mine, the door locking behind us with a final, metallic click that sounded too much like a verdict.

The house smelled like bleach and blood. A war zone scrubbed clean.

I was still in shock. The adrenaline had cracked and peeled off, leaving only the raw, aching center underneath. My pulse skittered. My palms itched. I felt like I was floating two inches above my body, just close enough to feel how wrong everything still was.

Maybe Kieran was right. Maybe it really was just kids doing drugs. But why were they on my street? And why were they watching me?

Kieran didn’t say anything; he just stood there, watching me as if he were waiting to see what I’d do next—perhaps waiting to see if I’d run again.

I wasn’t running anywhere. I had nowhere to go…he’d taken that form me.

The air inside felt just as heavy as the night had been. Every corner of the house seemed filled with shadows that shouldn’t have been there. I took a step forward and stopped, feeling Kieran’s eyes on me.

It wasn’t quite what I’d call comfort. More like a reminder. Like he was still waiting, still seeing if I’d go for the door or make a run for it.

I didn’t like what that made me feel. Or what it meant that he knew enough to stand there silently and let me sit with the tension.

Maybe he thought that if he waited long enough, I’d fall apart right in front of him. Or that the silence would drive me to say what was on my mind—something I didn’t even know myself.

The stillness between us stretched, but I couldn’t seem to fill it.

My pulse beat at my throat, a hollow echo under my skin, and I realized that I was frozen, standing in the middle of the hallway with no idea of what to do next. With no idea of how to handle the way Kieran was looking at me, like I was about to come undone.

Maybe I was.

Instead of retreating upstairs, I turned toward the kitchen on autopilot, but even as I walked, I felt Kieran’s reassuring presence behind me. I stopped at the sink and braced my hands on the counter. The faucet dripped once, each plink echoing through the space.

My throat was dry, and when I swallowed, I felt the tightness there, the soreness beneath the bruises blooming at my neck.

“You need to wash the night off,” Kieran stated in an even, sure tone.

His voice carried a calm authority that sent a sharp coil of anxiety through my chest. I let out a bitter laugh and shook my head.

“And if I don’t?” I managed, my voice shaky as I felt him shift his weight behind me—a subtle movement of muscle and presence.

The sound of the faucet dripping was louder than it had any right to be. Every drop hit the sink with a hollow click, the kind of sound that kept echoing long after it stopped. The air in the kitchen pressed down on me—thick with bleach and blood, the residue of everything I couldn’t clean.

Kieran stood there, still and solid, a shadow stitched into the room. His voice was calm, too calm.

“If you don’t, nothing happens,” he said. “But if you do, you might feel better. I had my men move the body to the backyard so you could use the stairs.”

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