Page 124 of His Ruthless Match

He helped me up like I was made of something precious. And maybe to him, in that moment, I was.

The alley reeked of ash and burned flesh.

I didn’t know what scared me more. The fact that I’d nearly died, or that he’d made it look so easy to kill for me.

I forced myself to look away, focusing instead on Genevieve. She was still standing there, her body slack, her face completely blank. The sight sent a fresh wave of unease crashing over me.

“Something’s really wrong with her,” I murmured, my voice shaking. “She didn’t even react. That’s not her.”

He pressed a kiss to my forehead, his lips warm against my clammy skin. Then he took Genevieve’s arm again, guiding her toward the alley’s exit with me close behind. As we stepped out onto the street, I couldn’t help but glance back at the flickering flames.

Jareth walked beside me, his hand brushing against mine as if to remind me he was still there. I stole a glance at him, his usual cocky smirk replaced with a determined scowl. I was utterly fucked.

Because God help me, I was completely smitten with this man.

34

EVA

My grip on Genevieve’s arm tightened as we walked into the hotel lobby. Even her gait was off—too stiff, too mechanical. It was like guiding a marionette. My heart pounded in my chest as we passed the front desk. The clerk glanced up briefly before returning to her screen, utterly uninterested in the spectacle of three people moving like ghosts.

She must’ve not noticed the blood and torn fabric of Jareth’s shirt. Good. One less thing to try and explain.

Jareth was on Genevieve’s other side, his hand firm on her shoulder. His body was coiled like a spring about to snap, and his sharp gaze flickered to every shadow, every hallway, as though expecting something to leap out at us. He’d always been alert, but this was different. This was sharper, more dangerous, like a predator on high alert.

When we stepped into the elevator, the soft hum of the machinery was the only sound. Genevieve stared straight ahead, unblinking, her face as blank as a mannequin’s. It sent shivers down my spine.

“Genevieve,” I said, leaning closer, my voice soft but urgent. “Do you know where you are? Do you know who we are?”

Nothing. Her fingers twitched faintly, but she didn’t even blink.

“This is crazy,” I whispered, my throat tightening as I looked at Jareth. “She’s completely out of it. Like… like she’s not even here.”

His jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened with something that looked almost like anger. “We’ll figure it out. Just keep her moving.”

The elevator dinged, and we stepped into the quiet hallway. The carpet muffled our footsteps as we approached Genevieve’s suite, but when we got to the door, I froze. The guards were still gone.

I exchanged a glance with Jareth, my chest tightening. “Where the hell are they?”

Jareth didn’t answer. He pushed open the door, his hand steady on Genevieve’s back as he guided her inside. The suite was dimly lit, the glow from the city filtering through the heavy curtains. Everything looked untouched, as though no one had been here in hours.

“Get her some water,” Jareth said as he led Genevieve to the couch.

My hands trembled as I grabbed a small bottle of water out of the minibar and twisted off the cap. I sat beside her and handed the bottle to her.

“Drink,” I urged gently. Genevieve raised the bottle to her lips, but she only took a small sip. She was sluggish and detached, like a puppet obeying a distant master.

Jareth watched her like a hawk. The tension in his shoulders was visible, and I knew he hated not knowing what was wrong or how to fix it immediately.

The silence stretched on, oppressive and suffocating, as I sat there gripping my hands together. Finally, Genevieve blinked.Her eyes focused for the first time, and she looked around the room, confusion flickering across her face.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

Relief surged through me, and I exhaled sharply. “Genevieve, thank God. Do you remember anything about the club?”

Her brows knitted together as she frowned, her gaze dropping to the water bottle in her hands. “What are you talking about? I don’t… I don’t remember being at a club.” She looked down at her half-naked body, covered in Jareth’s jacket. “Where the hell are my clothes?”

My stomach twisted. I glanced at Jareth, who was now standing straighter, his eyes locked on Genevieve like he was trying to read her mind.