CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
RYAT
I HATED THAT I had to force her hand with the divorce papers. I would never tell her this, but a part of me thought she would sign them. She was mad at me, and the Lords knew that. They wanted to test her, and I couldn’t tell them no. She has to prove her loyalty to me just like I had to prove it to them. So, I said the only things that made me think she’d want to fight me. I needed to make her mad. Blakely likes the fight. I needed her to find her backbone and stand up to me.
After storming out of the house, I drove a mile down the road and pulled over, watching her on my cell with the living room cameras. I can’t even explain how proud of her I was when I watched her throw those papers in the fire with determination. It was more of a I’ll make you love me rather than I love you, but I’ll take it.
Honestly, I’m not sure what I would have done if she had signed them. But I was telling her the truth when I said I’d never let her go. I probably would have thrown them in the fire, burning any evidence of her signature.
After I witnessed her set them on fire, I quit watching and headed to Blackout. I had to meet with Ty. That’s a new issue I have to deal with.
“Ryat,” she whispers nervously. “Tell me.” Her hands come up to my shirt, and she grips the material. “You have no problem making me prove myself to the Lords, but you won’t allow me to prove it to you.”
“You already have,” I say, running my hand through her long, dark hair, feeling how soft it is.
Her face falls, and her eyes drop to the floor. Stepping back from her, I turn to go take a shower when her words stop me. “I knew you didn’t sleep with her.”
Turning, I look at her. “How do you know?”
She takes in a shaky breath. “Because you’re nothing like Matt.”
“You’re right.” I growl, “I’m not.”
Walking over to me, she reaches up, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me into her. “Now’s your chance, Ryat. To prove to me just how much you trust me.”
I look away from her, my eyes going to the large floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the backyard and woods, knowing it hides my secrets. “What if you can’t handle it?” I ask, my eyes going back to hers. “You can’t decide to walk away if you see something that you don’t like,” I say honestly. I won’t allow it.
“Who said I was going to leave?” she asks, tilting her head to the side. “Wouldn’t you rather have a wife who knows who you really are and chooses to stay than one who pretends you’re someone else?”
Letting out a long breath, I think about her words. She’s right. I’d much rather her know who I am. A Lord is powerful, but he is also alone in a world full of men. Chosen ones only know the sex and parties. Ladies know more, but still very little. Most prefer to be in the dark, though. My father has never hid who he is from my mother, but I’ve seen her leave the room, refusing to listen in on a conversation he was having with someone else. I don’t fault her for it. Some just don’t care to know what kind of evil walks the earth.
Cindy would have been the same way—wanted to be in the dark. All she would have cared about was the power and the lifestyle that my fortune could have provided for us. That’s why I didn’t want her.
But Blake? I like that she wants to be a part of my world. Even though I’ll never allow her to get too close. I can’t risk her life, but I can share mine with her.
Making up my mind, I nod. “Okay.”
Her face lights up, and she bites her bottom lip to keep from smiling but fails.
“But …” I add. “If at any point, I think you can’t handle it, I get to pull you back.”
“That’s—”
“The deal.” I interrupt her before she can finish that argument.
Rolling her eyes, she says. “Fine. It’s a deal.”
“Come on,” I say, pulling her out the sliding glass door and walking down the steps.
“Ryat, it’s pitch black out there,” she whispers like someone will hear us. The closest neighbor is three miles away.
“It’s fine. I know where we’re going.” She stays silent while I take us into the woods, walking the path that I’ve made over the years. Grabbing my phone out of my pocket, I use the flashlight once the lights on the back porch are too far away to find the door that sits in the side of a hill ahead of us.
Walking up to it, I punch in the code and push it open. “Watch your step,” I tell her, allowing her to enter first but keeping hold of her hand. Once the door closes behind me, I bring her to a stop and flip on the light.
It lights up the staircase to the bunker below. This time, I place myself in front of her and walk down the stairs with her behind me.
Once we hit the landing, I release her hand and flip on the other light, to illuminate the room and turn to look at her. She comes to a stop, her small gasp filling the large space. Her wide eyes scan the wall in the back—chains, knives, and guns hang from hooks and sit on shelves. There’s a cage to the right that’s currently empty. But the chair in the center of the room is what gets her attention. Cindy sits tied to it with a black hood over her head. She struggles in the restraints, her mumbled words behind her gag making little sense.
I lean against the table, crossing my arms over my chest, and watch my wife carefully. Her wide eyes are focused on Cindy. “How …?”
“Your father helped me get her down here while you changed,” I inform her. She needs to understand that I’m not the only one who will protect her. He made himself very clear when he spoke to me on the back porch before he and my father left.
Eliminate any threat to his daughter. I had no problem agreeing to that.
She slowly turns, her eyes finally meeting mine. “All of this because she lied about sleeping with you?”
I refrain from smiling at her innocence. That was one of the reasons I didn’t want to show her this. Sometimes, I like how innocent she was when she first ran into me. “That was her excuse for showing up, Blake.”
“I knew she was lying … but I don’t understand.” She licks her lips.
I push off the table and turn to face it. Picking up the black designer bag, I turn it up upside down, emptying the contents out onto it. “This is what she brought to our house.”
Blake walks over to me and looks at everything. She picks up a syringe full of clear liquid. “But … she said she was there to see you.”
“She was there to hurt you.”
Looking up at me, she frowns. “What do you mean?”
“I bought that house two years ago, Blake. I’ve never had Cindy over. She wanted you to believe that she had been there several times with me, but that was a lie. Her sole intent was to hurt you while I was gone.”
Her frown deepens, and she puts the syringe down. “Then how did she know where it was?”
I smile. “That’s a good question. Let’s ask her.” Walking over to her sitting in the chair, I remove the hood from her head.
She immediately starts thrashing in it. Her hands are tied to each armrest with rope, and her legs are spread wide, secured to each leg with zip ties. I rip the tape off her mouth.
Throwing her head back, she screams, making my ears ring.
“No one can hear you,” I tell her.
She leans forward the best she can to look at Blakely. “Help me. Please,” she begs. “He’s fucking insane.”
Blake ignores her and picks up a roll of duct tape that was in Cindy’s bag. “What were you going to do with this?” she asks her.
“Did you hear me?” Cindy yells. “He’s going to kill me.” Tears run down her cheeks as she desperately pulls on the rope.
Placing the tape down, Blake picks up the syringe. “What’s in this?”
“Fucking bitch,” Cindy hisses. “Listen to me!”
“Let’s see.” Blake walks over to us, and Cindy starts sobbing. Coming to a stop, Blake looks up at me. “Does it matter where I stick her with it?”
I shrug. “Doubtful.” It’s probably a sedative of some kind. I can’t see Cindy having the skills of a nurse to stick a vein. Especially if Blake was going to be fighting back at that time.
“Okay.” Blake stabs Cindy in the upper arm with it, her thumb hovering over the plunger.
“Wait. Wait. Wait. I’ll tell you,” she rushes out. “Just don’t do it. Please. I’ll tell you. Anything you want to know,” she says through the tears running down her face.
“I’m listening,” Blake says but doesn’t remove the needle from Cindy’s arm.
“Matt told me where you live,” she cries.
“How did he know?” I demand. “No one has been out here.” Blake was the first person I brought here, other than my father. Well, and now Mr. Anderson.
She sniffs. “He didn’t say. Just that he knew you brought her here when you were supposed to be in New York.”
“How the fuck did he know I didn’t stay in New York?” I bark, making her flinch.
“I don’t know,” she whines. “Please pull it out.”
Blake removes the needle, and Cindy sags into the chair, softly crying. I start to pace. How in the fuck did he know I didn’t leave? Was he …?
“He was watching me,” Blake speaks.
I come to a stop. “What do you mean? What makes you think that?”
She puts the cap on the needle. “That night at the house of Lords party—in your room—he told me that the weekend you came home early when you were supposed to be in New York, you had blocked my incoming calls and texts from Sarah so I wouldn’t go to the house of Lords.” Her eyes meet mine. “What if he was watching me and saw you come back and bring me here?”
My hands fist at the thought of him watching her. I came home to surprise her with her fantasy but what if I hadn’t come back? What would he have done?
“We had sex outside. In the woods,” Blake announces nervously. “You had texted me to come find you and—”
“What are you talking about?” I interrupt her.
She looks at Cindy who still quietly cries, and then back to me. “When I called you. You lied and said you had to run into Barrington.”
“The part about me texting you,” I snap.
Swallowing, she repeats. “You sent me a text after the phone call. Told me to come find you.”
“Blake.” I storm over to her. “No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did!” she argues.
“Show me,” I snap.
Sighing, she points at the stairs. “My phone is in the bedroom.”
BLAKELY
HOW COULD HEforget that text?
“We’ll go get it,” he growls, grabbing my hand and yanking me toward the stairs.
“It was me,” cries Cindy’s soft voice.
“What?” Ryat shouts, making her flinch.