What is the opportunity he needs to make his move? And what the fuck is that going to be? Will he take her away from me? Or will he just kill her and leave her where her body falls for me to find? Either one is an option he’s considering.
I hate not knowing, and Blake is starting to go stir-crazy. She wants out of this damn club and back to the cabin. Doesn’t she understand, I’d much rather us be alone in the middle of nowhere than here?
I just keep telling myself a little longer. Matt will get restless, and when he does, I’ll be there to cut his fucking head clean off his body.
I stand on the balcony of the second story of Blackout and watch the girls dance below. Gunner brought Sarah over tonight. I figured some drinks would loosen Blake up and remind her that she’s not a prisoner here.
We didn’t bring much with us, so Sarah had brought her a dress and a pair of heels. Of course, I didn’t approve, but she had nothing else to wear. The moment I rip it off her later, I’m giving it back to Sarah. I’m surprised Gunner hasn’t already burned it.
My cell vibrates in my back pocket, and I pull it out to read the text.
Tomorrow night; Blackout.
Shit! My eyes look back down at my wife, and she’s smiling with a drink in one hand and her cell in the other. I made her take it with her. She stops bouncing around and takes a drink before holding up her phone. She reads over the text, her body going rigid. Then she turns and looks up at me.
Placing my forearms on the railing, I lean over it and stare down at her, trying to look unfazed by what I just received. Honestly, she’s ready. My girl has proven that she’s capable of taking on more than I thought.
The black lights bounce off her pretty blue eyes, and I can tell from here how large they are at the moment.
Sarah taps her shoulder, but she ignores her. A second later, she puts her drink down and heads toward the stairs. I push off the banister and go to meet her.
“I got my text,” she says, now panting from running up the stairs in heels.
“I know. I got one too.” Hers would be different than mine, but they mean the same thing. It’s time for her initiation.
She licks her lips. “Ryat, what if …?”
“You’re going to be fine.” I place my hands on her shoulders. “You won’t see me, but I’ll be here, okay?” She nods quickly. “Then you’ll meet me at the cathedral,” I remind her, and she nods again. “Hey.” I pull her into me. “It’s not until tomorrow night, so go back down there and have fun with Sarah.” I can’t believe I just said that. I’d much rather us be in bed than her shaking her ass on a dance floor for other men to watch. The big rock on her hand doesn’t hurt, though. I wanted something that said fuck off—I’m married, and my husband will gut you—from far away. I think I made the right decision.
“Okay.” She reaches up on her tiptoes and presses her lips to mine. “I love you.”
I run my hands through her tangled, sweaty hair. “I love you too, little one.” Then she turns and heads back down the stairs, much slower than when she ran up them.
Placing my forearms back on the railing, I watch her make her way through the crowd and back to Sarah. Blake nods a few times, and then they get new drinks.
“Aren’t you two the cutest couple?”
I look over to my right to see Ty has joined me. “She has initiation tomorrow night. Here.”
“What do you need me to do?” he asks without hesitation.
“Keep an eye out for her.”
He nods. “Of course. Just text me when it’s going down, and I’ll make sure I have all eyes on her at all times.”
Pushing off the railing, I reach out my right hand. “Thanks, man.”
“No problem.” He pulls me in for a man hug and slaps my back. “Come by my office before you call it a night. I’m expecting a phone call that might have an answer to your Matt problem.” Before I can respond to that, he walks back toward his office. And I start to feel sorry for Ty. For what he had and lost. I can’t imagine what he went through. I saw his rage. His anger controlled him for a very long time until he realized he could get his revenge. And he will—soon.
We always do. That’s what we’re trained for.
BLAKELY
GUNNER FOUND USon the dance floor and took my friend away from me, so I took that as my hint that I was done too. I make my way to the top of the stairs to see Ryat still standing in the same spot he has for the past three hours. Just watching me. And I’m hoping he doesn’t kill those two men who came to talk to Sarah and me. They really were nice and just striking up a conversation. They’d never been here and needed directions to the nearest hotel after they left Blackout.
“Come on.” He takes my hand.
“Where are we going?” I ask when he doesn’t head to the apartment that we are currently calling home.
“I have to talk to Ty,” he answers vaguely. Coming to an end of the hallway, he punches in a code on the keypad with his free hand and pushes the now unlocked door open.
Ryat enters and pulls me inside. I freeze when I see a woman slumped down onto a couch. A man straddles her legs on his knees, his dick in her mouth while his hands pin hers to the top of the cushion with one of his while the other is gripping the hair at her crown.
Her eyes meet mine, and she starts mumbling nonsense around his pierced dick. I look away, turning my body into Ryat, who stands next to me unfazed like I am.
What in the fuck?
Why didn’t Ryat knock?
The man picks up his pace, and I hear her start to gag. Turning my head, I look over my shoulder and watch him face fuck her roughly until he shoves it all the way down her throat and growls when he comes.
Pulling away quickly, he slaps his hand over her mouth and orders, “Swallow.” She looks up at him, blinking rapidly while tears run down her face, smearing her makeup. She tries to shake her head, but he prevents it and adds, “If you don’t, you’ll be licking it up.”
I look away again, my face heating with his words. Fuck, I’m drunk and horny. Why are we in here?
“Good girl,” I hear him praise her, and she whimpers.
I know, girl. I get it. Why do we crave that? To be praised for something that others would find degrading. I’d do some sick and twisted shit for Ryat if I knew he’d praise me for it. I want to please Ryat all the time. And when he tells me good girl, it’s like everything I actually did meant something to him.
“Now, go back to work,” the man demands, and I hear him zip up his pants.
The girl runs past me in a blur and out the door.
“Ryat,” the guy greets him excitedly. “That’s the second time you’ve caught me with my pants down lately.” He chuckles.
Second time?Dear Lord, I thought it was bad he didn’t knock this time. When will he learn his lesson?
“Guess I should start knocking,” he jokes, and I refrain from rolling my eyes at him.
“Well, you know I love an audience.”
That makes sense.I turn around and straighten my shoulders, and the guy now sits behind his desk. His black boots are propped up on the surface, and his arms are behind his head, fingers intertwined with a relaxed and carefree look on his face. He’s got facial hair, but it’s not overdone—more like a five o’clock shadow following the curve of his sharp jawline. His black hair— thick and unkempt—looks like he hasn’t cut it in a while. I wonder if he has it that way on purpose or just doesn’t care. His baby-blue eyes are on mine, and he doesn’t look the least bit ashamed that I was embarrassed by what we walked in on.
“Blake, we finally meet,” he announces, giving me a smirk.
Should I know this man? I mean, I’ve heard Ryat mention him. I know he owns Blackout and has loaned us the apartment above the club, but that’s as far as my knowledge of him goes. I’ve pretty much stayed locked in the apartment these past few days.
“Blake, this is Tyson Crawford. Ty, this is my wife, Blake.”
My heart immediately starts racing at his name. I look up at Ryat with wide eyes, and he frowns down at me.
“Uh…” I clear my throat. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” I say, remembering my manners. “Thank you for letting us stay here.”
Oh my God! Does Sarah know he owns Blackout?
“Of course, anything for Ryat and his wife,” he says, standing from his chair and walking around it. Leaning back against the edge, he crosses his ankles over one another and his arms over his chest. His eyes dismiss me and go to my husband. “It’s all set. I have everyone who is on shift tomorrow up to speed on the situation.”
I frown. What is he talking about?
“Thanks, man. It should go smoothly, but just in case—”
“I understand,” he interrupts Ryat. “You can never be too careful with the one you love.”
“Yeah,” Ryat says through gritted teeth. “Anything on Matt?”
My ears perk up at that. This guy is a Lord, so he has to know Matt.
“No.” His response is clipped. “But there’s already word on the street—two of my guards heard a few guys talking about you taking out his chosen.”
Do you ever feel the air shift? Can you tell the moment that the vibe changes in the room? Because I can at this very second. The air gets thicker, the temperature hotter as the man’s mood shifts with the mention of what Ryat did. Or maybe it’s just me. Afraid of what will happen to my husband when Matt decides to make himself known.
Ryat smiles and lifts his chin a bit. He’s proud of himself. And a sick, twisted part of me is proud of him too. This man will do whatever it fucking takes to not only protect me but also love me. “He can’t hide forever,” he adds.
“Yeah, well, Matt is a piece of shit and deserves to be strung up in the middle of the cathedral where all the Lords can watch him slowly bleed to death,” Tyson states, the darkness in his voice making the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
So much so that I reach up and rub the skin like it’s going to help.
“Oh, I’m going to teach him a lesson,” Ryat agrees, his voice just as threatening.
“I want to be there when you do it.” Tyson nods, the corner of his lips pulling back into a sadistic smile.
“Of course,” Ryat agrees.
“Let me know if you need anything else, brother.” Tyson reaches his right hand out, and Ryat shakes it. Tyson pulls him in for a manly handshake/hug and slaps his back with his free hand. “You two get some sleep tonight. You have a busy one tomorrow.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
RYAT
IUNLOCK THE door to the apartment. Stepping aside, I allow her to enter before me, and I shut the door, locking it behind me.
“You okay?” I ask her. It’s been a long night, and she’s had quite a bit to drink.
Nodding, she heads toward the master bedroom.
“Hey.” I follow her. “Talk to me.” I can tell something is on her mind.
“Tyson?” she asks about him, surprising me. Out of all the things that have happened this week and what’s going to happen tomorrow night, I doubted the man we walked in on fucking a woman was the last thing she’d question.
“What about him?” I wonder.
“He’s a Lord?”
Well, that gets my attention. He doesn’t wear his ring. Not anymore. Most don’t in public after graduation. Only when we have special occasions at the house of Lords. Otherwise, we prefer to blend in with whatever crowd were in. “Yes.”
“Is that how you know him?” she asks slowly.
I nod.
“Why does he own this club?”
I’m even more curious as to what she’s getting at. “Why does it matter that he owns Blackout?”
“I thought being a Lord was all about power. This is just a club.”
I nod. “It is. But not all Lords prefer to sit in a high-rise office overlooking a large city. A Lord can be anywhere. Ty chose to go underground and work the dirtier side of things.” He always liked getting filthy. He was ruthless. Top of his year. He could have picked any profession, and Blackout was where he wanted to be. “Owning Blackout has its perks for the Lords,” I assure her.
She licks her lips nervously. “I heard about him … at Barrington.”
I frown. “What did you hear?” It’s not uncommon for others to talk about the Lords. Every man who attends Barrington wants to be a member. Not because of the status you get while in college, but what you get once you graduate and are out in the real world. And those who don’t make it like to run their little mouths about things they think they know. That’s why the Lords have us kill—it’s their insurance policy. If you get kicked out before graduation, you’re not going to go run your mouth about it when they’ve got leverage to bury you. I’ve seen it done before, and those sorry bastards were literally buried alive behind the cathedral.
“That his chosen cheated on her boyfriend to be Tyson’s chosen—”
“Don’t believe everything you hear, Blake,” I interrupt her, reaching up and removing my shirt. I turn and toss it onto the floor, not giving a fuck about it right now.
Her hand grips my upper arm, and she yanks me back to face her. I run a hand down my face, and she glares up at me. “You know what happened?”
Of course, I do.But I say, “It doesn’t matter what happened.”
“Ryat.” She growls my name. “Tell me. When you left me with Gunner and Sarah, we looked up his chosen, and she doesn’t exist. No social media pages. No record of ever going to Barrington. It’s like she was made up.”
I sigh. “She did, Blake.” The Lords can make anyone no longer exist. If they want. And they wanted to get rid of her existence so fast. Honestly, they failed Ty and her. They guarantee us protection as long as we are faithful to our oath. That was not the case for Ty. But then again, can you guarantee a life? I don’t think so. Not the type we live.
“Did?” she asks, wide eyes.
I nod. “Yeah, she never cheated on her boyfriend with Tyson. Because she never had one. He was a stalker.”
She blinks, her lips parting. “A stalker?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“What … what happened to her?” She stumbles over her words and licks her lips, which I know are probably starting to go numb from drinking.