Perfect Ruin (Unyielding #2)

“Old man named Donald says he sees her often in an alley behind the Dark Horse. It’s a bar near the shelter. Donald says the bouncer keeps an eye on her. Helps her out. Slips her food.” Ernie paused and I knew why. His gut said we were finding her tonight and that meant he wanted me there. “You need to deal with this, boss. It’s been too long and she’s worse not better. Worth the risk.”


I curled my hand around the phone. Fuck.

“Boss.”

Fuck, London, what the hell are you doing?

I rested my forehead against the cool glass window and closed my eyes.

“On my way.” I ended the call.




I pulled my phone out and called Ernie as I drove toward the Dark Horse. “Two minutes out.”

“Bouncer says she’s in the alley. Not going to like it, boss.”

I fuckin’ knew I wasn’t going to like what I saw. I didn’t like what I saw in Mexico, in Germany, in fuckin’ Toronto with Alfonzo. “Keep the bouncer inside. Don’t need witnesses.”

“Got it.”

I slowed down when I saw the sign for Dark Horse, a seedy bar that had a scantily clad chick out front and a man loitering, probably selling drugs or maybe the girl’s pimp or her potential client.

I pulled down the first alley after the bar, stopped the car then leaned over, reached in my bag and took out one of the syringes. I wasn’t taking any chances and didn’t need some pumped-up bouncer coming to her rescue and making this turn into something that attracted attention.

The city was alive with sounds, horns, buses, laughter, and shouts and yet, it was my footsteps on the pavement that were the loudest, like the buildup before the climax in a movie. Everything else became insignificant except that moment.

I was like an addict approaching what I’d been denied for years. The need claimed me. She claimed me.

I stopped when I saw her curled up on the ground sleeping, orange peels lying on the pavement beside her and litter scattered around her.

“Jesus.” I took the final few steps toward her then crouched. I pushed her limp, dull hair from her face. “Baby.” She had dark smudges of dirt on her cheeks and forehead.

I had to make a choice. Ernie was right, this couldn’t continue.

Killing her would end her misery.

Slit her throat while she slept and forget I’d ever met her. Wanted her. Fucked her.

Save her the suffering. Save her from me and what I’d have to do in order to stop this.

But I couldn’t.

I’d let the monsters invade me. The emotions pulsed and London was mine.

I drew my knife from beneath my pant leg and rested the sharp blade against her collarbone.

It would be so simple.

End this.

End what had become my obsession.

I lay the hard blade flat on the surface of her skin then tilted the tip slightly, the pressure barely there, but enough. With the tiniest movement, my blade nicked her and I watched the pearl of blood rise to the surface, hesitate then trail a path of red down into her torn black sweater.

Her eyes flickered open for a moment and met mine, but they didn’t see me. They were dead. She closed them again.

“Fuck, braveheart.” But that one bead of blood was my answer to the road I was about to take. “You’re going to need to live up to that name now. I can’t do this any other way.”

Because I wasn’t walking away again. And the consequences could get her killed. But she was fading into nothing. She believed she was nothing and London was so much more. She was lost and there was only one way to get her back. I’d have to destroy the girl who’d been running from herself.

Kill Raven.

And hope to find the girl beneath—London.

Her choices had been taken away and she’d been trained to obey. Her survival had depended on being locked inside herself. But she didn’t need to do that anymore.

She was trapped, unable to escape the cycle. Afraid to step out of the shadows. According to Ernie, she’d been seeing therapists, doctors, and they had her on medication after medication, but Ernie thought all they did was make her isolate herself more.

Fuckin’ Ernie. Bastard knew I’d never walk away if I saw her again. That was why he wanted me here.

Now, there was one option for me… for her. I was going to pull her from the safe, from the shadows and destroy every piece of Raven.

I put my knife away, took out the syringe, and removed the cap. I gently lowered her shirt off her right shoulder, the pad of my finger caressing her skin.

The needle pierced her skin and she flinched, but didn’t open her eyes.

“No more running. You’re going to have to be my braveheart in order to survive me.”

After a few minutes, I saw the tension around her eyes ease and knew the sedative had taken effect. The club door opened and Ernie stood there.

I nodded to him and all he said was, “Finally. This deserves a fuckin’ scotch.” Then he slammed the door and went back inside.

I huffed and then picked her up in my arms, before striding back to my car. I put her in the front seat, fastened her seatbelt then got in and started the long drive to my house.

I was taking her home, to a place no one knew about except Ernie.

I was finding London and bringing her back to me.





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