Reaper (Boston Underworld #2)

I can feel my lips curling into a smile, and Blaine’s entire body shakes with the force of his anger. Tighter and tighter he squeezes. And I know this is it. It’s all going to be over soon.

This is the moment I’m going to die. His hand constricts arounds my throat, and he slams my head back into the floor. The air is slipping away, blackness seeping in around my eyes. I close them and think of my mother. I hope she’ll be okay. I hope she won’t hate me for giving up. And Emily too. She already does hate me. She thinks I’m weak. But she doesn’t know.

Breath.

I take a breath, and the oxygen comes into my lungs freely. Blaine’s weight is gone, and I don’t know why. When I open my eyes, I find my salvation, in the form of the man who has never spoken to me. The one with the coffee colored eyes. The one I have secretly watched and fantasized about since the moment I first saw him.

He’s on top of Blaine, his own body shaking with anger. His fist is driving into Blaine’s face. Over and over and over again. Blaine is fighting back, but it’s futile.

Ronan’s stronger. Harder. Fiercer.

My protector.

I’ve never witnessed so much wrath in one man. The force of his hits, the expression on his face. The man on top of Blaine appears every bit the soldier in combat with only one mission. Maim. Kill. Destroy.

His neck is corded, his veins and muscles throbbing with the need for blood. He gets it. Spattered across his suit. I don’t know how long it goes on for. Only that at some point Blaine’s face is unrecognizable, and I know he’s gone. But the man keeps striking out at him. Like it isn’t enough. Like it ended too soon, and he regrets that he didn’t get to make him suffer.

So even when the beating is over, he takes Blaine by the hair and snaps his neck with a sharp twist. The seconds tick by and turn into minutes as Ronan and I both stare at the mutilated face of the man who has tormented me for so long. I want to crawl to him. To check and make sure it’s real. But I don’t move.

Dark eyes find mine, and horror washes over me as his breathing changes yet again. The realization and shock of what he’s just done washes over his face, and that’s when it hits me too. He’s going to kill me. He’s killed one of his own. And now he’s going to kill me too. Because that isn’t supposed to happen. Not for me. Not for anyone.

I scramble backwards on my hands and knees, trying desperately to escape. Ronan catches me by the ankle before I even make it five feet. And then he’s on top of me, flipping me over. I squeeze my eyes shut and wait. I don’t know why this man scares me more than the rest of them. It’s his silence. He’s a killer. He’s one of them. And he just committed the ultimate sin because of me.

His hands touch my face, and it’s so gentle, a sob bursts from my lungs. The tears that I couldn’t find ten minutes ago are leaking from my eyes, and I’m shaking with fear and confusion. I thought I wanted to die, but now I’m scared.

“Shhhh….” he whispers.

That’s it. Nothing more. But it’s enough to make me open my eyes. I stare up into his. The rage is gone, and there’s something else in its place.

“You don’t need to hurt me,” I tell him. “I won’t say a word. I swear it. I won’t tell anybody.”

He doesn’t respond. His eyes are moving over my face, taking in every detail. He’s still breathing hard, and his body is so close to mine. Warm and solid and strong. He smells of malt liquor and roasted pine nuts. I don’t know where it comes from, but it’s the only way to describe it. The scent is unique and incredible.

His grip on me is rough, but I realize as the seconds tick by it isn’t because of the need to kill. It’s something else in his eyes. Something I know must be reflected in my own. I cling to his biceps and pull him closer against me. I don’t know why. Only that I want to.

“Ronan,” I murmur against him. “Ronan.”

I don’t know why I’m saying his name. If it’s a plea or something else.

A sound rips from his throat, and he buries his face in my neck and inhales my skin as he grinds against me. He’s hard. And it’s completely insane, but all of the tension snaps between us. All the boundaries that ever existed dissolve under the proximity of our bodies. When his hands roam over me, it stirs a long dormant need inside of me. Feelings I haven’t felt before. Feelings I’ll probably never have again.

I reach down and yank his pelvis against mine while my other hand strokes through his hair. His hands are everywhere on me, touching me anywhere he can reach. We’re like two wild animals, going at each other in a fight to the death.