CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
RYAT
SHE HASN’T SAID one word to me since I told her that what she wants no longer matters. It was cruel, but it was the truth. I’m tired of hiding things from her. She needs to know what goes on inside the world of the Lords. She may not like it, but she will learn to live with it.
Blood, death, and secrets are what my life is made of. Hers will be the same.
I quickly look over at her in the passenger seat of my W Motors Lykan Hypersport. She’s got her head tilted to the side and her eyes closed. She fell asleep the moment we left the house of Lords. I didn’t give her a very high dosage when I found her last night at the run-down bar. I was angry with her and knew she’d fight me every step of the way, so drugging her was my best option to move her without injuring her. It was just a couple of sleeping pills. On a normal person, they wouldn’t have worked that well, but I was banking on her already being exhausted. I know my wife pretty well by now. She wasn’t getting much sleep, knowing she was on the run.
Pulling into the driveway, I shut off my car, and she stirs. “We’re home,” I tell her.
Opening her heavy eyes, she blinks. “Why are we here?” she asks, looking around the wooded area.
“This is where we live.”
“No … my apartment …”
I get out and round the front of the car, opening her door for her. “You no longer have that,” I say, grabbing her hand and pulling her out. “I moved all of your stuff into the cabin.” After she left, I destroyed her apartment. Not my greatest moment, but I was looking for the slightest clue on where she might have gone. Once I managed to sit back and look at what I’d done, I said fuck it and hired a moving company to pack up all her shit and move it. I knew she wouldn’t be going back there once I found her.
She doesn’t say anything as we enter the house. I pull her down the hall to the master suite because we both need a shower.
Entering the bathroom, I turn on the shower and then step in front of her. “Lift your arms,” I order. She does as I say and places them above her head. I remove the shirt I dressed her in and then shove my sweatpants and underwear down her legs. “Get in. I’ll grab some towels.”
Walking over to the linen closet, I grab what we need and set them next to the shower, then I quickly undress and join her. She stands with her back against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest and head down. Her now wet hair sticks to her neck and breasts. She sniffs as the blood runs down over her body and disappears into the drain. I didn’t clean her up after we returned to the house of Lords. I ripped her uniform off, burned it, and put her in my bed, where I dressed her in some of my clothes and then waited for her to wake up.
“Blake,” I say softly, and she looks up at me, tears running down her face.
“You killed him,” she whispers, her lips trembling.
I was wondering when this would hit her. When she’d have a second to stop and think about what I did in the alleyway behind the bar. At the time, she feared me and was too concerned with saving herself. Now that we’ve slowed down and the drugs no longer linger, what I did is coming back full force. “I did.”
She sniffs again. “You slit his throat.” Her shoulders shake, and her eyes go wide as her hands start frantically wiping the blood off her bruised neck and chest. “It’s his blood …”
“Shh.” I grab her face and make her look up at me, taking her attention off what remains of the man. “I had to.” She shakes her head, but I steady it with my hands on either side. “Yes.” Pressing my body fully into hers, I add, “He put his hands on you. And that is unacceptable.” I’ll kill any motherfucker who touches my wife. It’s just that simple.
At the time, I was pissed at her but also relieved we had arrived just in time. What if I hadn’t found her when I did? She’d be dead right now. A second later and I would have found her body in that alley. It made me even angrier with her. The fact that she ran put her life in danger.
She lets out a sob, and I pull her from the wall, hugging her. With one arm holding her to my body, my free hand runs down over her wet hair while she cries into my chest. “You’re safe, Blake,” I tell her. “I promise.”
“I’m sorry,” she cries.
I sigh, feeling every ounce of anger I had toward her fade. It’s just as much my fault as it is Matt’s. I used her and then threw it in his face, so he attacked me the only way he knew how—by going to her. It’s a game that we’ve been playing ever since she became my assignment. But our marriage upped the ante.
I have too much to lose now, and he knows it. Like my father told her, she’s important to the Lords now. Matt can’t touch her, but he can have someone else go after her. That’s the part that scares me the most. I’ve made too many enemies over the years. Too many Lord members didn’t make it through initiation since I started four years ago. How many of them were denied because I beat them out?
“Ryat?” she whispers, pulling her head from my chest, looking up at me.
“Yeah?” I ask, my hand tangling in her hair.
“Thank you for saving me,” she whispers, her eyes giving me that same look of admiration she gave me the night of the house of Lords party. Before everything went to shit.
“Don’t thank me, Blake,” I tell her, my eyes falling to the marks on her neck. I’d go to war for my wife. One man was nothing. “I’ll always show up for you.”
Fresh tears spill over her bottom lashes, and I almost lean down and kiss her but stop myself. Instead, I pull back and grab the soap off the ledge to help clean her up.
She stays quiet while we both finish in the shower. I make sure to scrub every inch of her. I even wash her hair before tending to myself. Once done, I turn off the water and help her dry off. It’s like she’s on autopilot—here but not really.
“I’m tired,” she says softly and then yawns.
And for once, I am too. I’m exhausted from lack of sleep, stress, and just the feeling of the unknown. I walk out of the bathroom and pull the covers back on my bed. She crawls in, naked with wet hair. I lie down next to her on my back. Snuggling up next to me, she wraps her arms around me, and I let out a sigh, closing my eyes.
I missed her so goddamn much. I didn’t realize that until now. I mean, I spent every second of every day searching for her, but it was the fact that she ran from me. Not because I wanted her. It was more of a you belong to me thing and I will find you. Now, I realize it was always more than that.
My phone dings, and I reach over, picking it up off the nightstand. It’s a text. Opening it up, I read over it, and my teeth grind.
Fuck!
Deciding to ignore it, I lock the screen and put it back before pulling her into me and closing my eyes.
BLAKELY
I WAKE UPand stretch my heavy limbs. My body is still exhausted, but my head is clear. The lack of light in the room tells me it’s not morning yet. But honestly, I have no sense of time anymore. I could have been out for three days, for all I know.
Getting out of bed, I call out for Ryat but am met with silence. Deciding to go look for him, I walk into the living room and turn on the light. He sits in the middle of the couch, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. His arms are fanned across the back of the cushions, and in his right hand, he holds a glass of scotch. I frown. I’ve never seen him drink before other than that one time he and Gunner followed me and Sarah to Blackout. His hair dry and spiked to perfection how he usually wears it. I remember lying down with him after our shower, but he looks like he’s been awake for hours. “Ryat?”
My eyes drop to the coffee table that sits in front of him. It’s got my cell, my wedding ring and clutch—all three things I left on his bed when I ran. A manila envelope sits on the end.
My heart beats faster at the sight of them. I thanked him in the shower for saving me, and I meant it. If he hadn’t found me when he did, I’d be dead.
“What are you doing?” I whisper. “Come back to bed with me.”
He brings his right hand around, putting the glass to his lips, and throws back his drink. His eyes meet mine and level me with a glare.
“You okay?” I ask, taking a tentative step toward him, already knowing that something is wrong. Ryat doesn’t do well with hiding his emotions.
He gives a rough laugh, the sound making the hairs on the back of my neck rise in warning. “Three weeks, Blake. Three fucking weeks!” He leans forward, staring at the now empty glass in his hand.
I swallow, knowing it wouldn’t be that easy. He won’t forgive me. “Matt—”
“Matt wanted you to leave me. Don’t tell me that you didn’t know what he was doing.” He interrupts me. “We both know that you’re not stupid. And instead of coming to me, you ran.”
I cross my arms over my exposed chest. “You lied to me. Why would I go to you …?”
He stands and throws the glass into the lit fireplace, cutting me off. The sound of it shattering makes me jump in surprise.
“Don’t get mad at me for a situation you put yourself in,” I shout, uncrossing my arms. “You had a hundred chances to come clean. To tell me what the hell was going on. You made a decision, and now you don’t like the consequences.” Spinning around, I give him my back and go to storm off to the bedroom.
“You’re right.” He sighs heavily.
His words bring me to a stop. Never in my life would I have thought Ryat Archer would be the kind of man to admit someone is right other than himself. Slowly, I turn around to face him, and he falls back down onto the couch.
“Want to know what happened?” He fans his arms across the back again, his legs falling open. His posture and narrowed eyes tell me he’s anything but remorseful. “You started off as an assignment. I tried to decline it. Said you didn’t belong to me. But that wasn’t an option. You don’t say no to the Lords.” He tilts his head to the side, his eyes running over my bare chest. “So, I followed you. Learned your routine.” He laughs softly. “Or lack thereof. Then I made my move.”
My brows pull together. “What do you mean …?”
“You really thought you ran into me by accident?” He shakes his head. “I put myself in your way, Blake. It was my way into your life. It was time for you to see me. To want me.”
My hands fist at his confession. “You …”
“Gunner made sure that Sarah found that flyer. We made it just for the two of you, by the way.”
No wonder I had never seen one before.
“I gave you just enough information to make you curious.”
Tears start to sting my eyes at how stupid I was. Not a goddamn thing was by chance. It was all a fucking game. Piece by piece, he played me.
He smirks. “You were starving, Blake.” My heart sinks at his words. “Matt turned you down for so long that I didn’t have to give you much to keep you begging for more.”
The first tear runs down my cheek, and he watches it. Then he looks away, pulling his lip back with disgust. “You’re not the only stupid one here, Blake,” he adds. “I began to feel something for you.” He snorts at that confession. “Because you looked good in a fucking dress. I thought, what is wrong with your wife loving you? That maybe we’d have a chance after all.”
I hate that my pulse quickens at that thought. That he could actually love me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. For someone to love me for me. Accept me. I thought he had, but it was part of his game.
“Then you ran … and it reminded me what this really was. A job. My anger trumped anything else I had felt for the briefest of seconds.”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I step toward the couch again. “Ryat …?”
“Earlier in the shower made me realize I’ve gone fucking soft on you, Blake. Know why?” He doesn’t let me answer. “Because you cried. Because another man tried to hurt you. That’s what I’m trying to protect you from. I should be your biggest threat. But instead, I’m falling in love with you.”
My heart hammers, and the blood rushes in my ears. I don’t want his words to faze me, but they do. “Ryat …”
“I’ve been taught since I was young that obedience is important.” He goes on as if he didn’t just admit to loving me. “That power and humiliation go hand and hand. I’ve watched Lords break their chosen ones or their Ladies to keep them in line. And you? You cry a few tears, and I go fucking soft.”
“I’m sorry,” I say through the knot in my throat.
“Sorry isn’t good enough!” He jumps to his feet, shouting.
“Punish me,” I offer, taking another step forward.
He stares at me with a careless look in his pretty eyes. He’s gone. I’ve lost what little ground we made last night. And I hate that my chest hurts. That I even fucking care. He just admitted to me that it was a game. “Cute.” He snorts.
“I’m serious.” I take another step, desperate to hang on to what I’ve spent the past three weeks running from. Yes, he’s made mistakes, but so have I. We’re not perfect. But he was right. I felt those same feelings at the party before Matt came and ruined everything. Before I made the decision to leave instead of trying to understand what Matt was doing.
His eyes drop to my bare legs and run up over my body, pausing on my chest before they reach mine. “I’m no longer interested.”