His Wicked Heart by Darcy Burke Page B

imagine it for many nights to come.
    A blood-curdling scream from downstairs
shattered the tension. Saxton pulled his gaze from her and looked
toward the door. Another shriek. He spun about and exited toward
the stairwell. Olivia followed fast on his heels.
    He ran down the stairs, pausing on the third
floor landing. The commotion seemed to be coming from the ground
floor so they continued to descend, his bare feet smacking against
the wood as he raced. Goodness, he was half naked, she realized. At
the base of the stairs, they halted again. Another tenant brushed
past them on her way up the stairs, her face white.
    Saxton strode toward the open doorway leading
to Mrs. Reddy’s apartment. The horrid sound of violence bled into
the corridor. He disappeared into the apartment. Olivia didn’t want
to follow him, but she couldn’t stop herself from confirming what
she heard, the dull thud of flesh hitting flesh. How many times had
she suffered the sight of Baron Landringham, her mother’s lover,
striking her mother before that terrible night when he’d gone too
far and Fiona had tumbled down the stairs?
    Olivia stepped to the door and froze,
paralyzed by awful memories playing out before her in the present.
A large man with a round, angry face gripped Mrs. Reddy by her
stringy hair. Blood streamed from her nose, and her face bore
several wicked marks that were already blooming into bruises.
    “This ain’t your business,” the man said to
Saxton, who had moved close to them—too close.
    Olivia’s heart thudded. Did he mean to
intervene? She’d tried that once on her mother’s behalf, and had
nursed a bloody face and several bruised ribs for her trouble.
Still, she hoped he had courage where she didn’t.
    “It has to be somebody’s business.” Lord
Saxton sounded utterly calm, as if he stepped into such assaults
with regularity. “I can’t allow you to kill this woman.”
    “This ain’t your affair. Bitch owes me money.
She’d rather drink the rent than give it to me. Ain’t that right,
dearie?” The large man pulled on Mrs. Reddy’s hair, causing her to
gasp sharply. Tears tracked down her battered face. “Now, take
yourselves back upstairs and finish whatever you’ve got going.” He
ogled Olivia. “Sorry to ’ave interrupted you.”
    Saxton spoke quietly, dangerously. “I’m
afraid I can’t do that until you leave this woman alone.”
    “She doesn’t need your protection. She’s
taken my beatings before. Knows it’s coming when she doesn’t have
the rent.” To punctuate his statement, he slapped her across the
face.
    Olivia sucked in a breath, waiting for
Saxton’s reaction. He leapt across the room and hit the heavy-set
man several times. After all of the violence against her mother
she’d been privy to, she ought to have yelled at Saxton to stop.
But this was different. This was necessary. Saxton was saving a
woman, not hurting one.
    Mrs. Reddy drooped to the floor but didn’t
crawl out of the way. Olivia rushed to her aid, dragging her to the
side of the room.
    The landlady shivered while Saxton continued
to pummel the large man with vicious intent. Olivia’s blood chilled
at how quickly he brought the other man to his knees.
    Saxton pulled the man’s arm back at a nasty
angle. “You’re going to leave and never return. Is that
understood?”
    “Goddamn you, I own this building!” the man
ground out while trying to suck air into his heaving lungs.
    “Is this true?” Saxton asked Mrs. Reddy.
    She nodded. “He’s me husband’s brother.”
    “Where’s your husband?”
    “Long dead,” Mrs. Reddy croaked.
    “How much do you owe this man?”
    “Nearly twenty pounds.” She shook so
violently, her teeth chattered.
    Saxton shoved Mr. Reddy’s face against the
floor then let him go. “How long will you give her to settle the
debt?”
    The large man turned, but didn’t stand.
Perhaps he wasn’t capable. “Unless you want to pay, it’s none of
your bloody business.”
    Saxton