Page 3 of Ravaged Saints (BloodHawks Duet #1)

I lock the door and hear one of them fiddling with the knob, but there’s no way we’re letting them wander around. We have guns everywhere, and it’d be too easy for one of them to grab one and shoot us in our sleep. Especially Aspen, Knox said; she knows how to use one way too well.

I head upstairs, the steel stairs creaking under my weight.

In the living room, the guys are sprawled out on the black couch. Fucking assholes, never taking their boots off. I’ll have to clean the rug again.

They’re drinking; the room is heavy with silence, and the fire crackles. Its warmth finally relaxes my shoulders. I can tell summer is arriving, but the fucking nights are cold, especially inside these concrete walls.

Fuck, I didn’t even realize how tense I was since the girls walked through the door.

“What now?”

I ask, grabbing a glass and pouring some whiskey.

“Now we’ve got two hot chicks,”

Ethan says, grinning like a kid at Christmas.

“No one touches them until we figure this out,”

Knox cuts in, his voice sharp as a knife. He rests his forearms on his knees, shoulders tense.

“He wanted to shoot them,”

Max chuckles, and I snap my eyes to Knox, my muscles tightening again.

“What the fuck, Knox?”

I shake my head. We’ve done dark shit, but killing two girls just like that?

“Better them than us,”

he shrugs, taking a sip. His eyes stay fixed on the TV, playing some movie we’ve seen a hundred times, while Stranded by Gojira plays through the speakers.

“What if they want to?”

Ethan says, and we all turn to him, trying to figure out what the hell he’s talking about. “You know, fuck us.”

Max slaps him on the back of the head, and Ethan jerks forward, snarling. “Fuck, dude.”

“The brunette glared at me like a lioness about to strike when I touched her arm, so I doubt she’s thinking about fucking us,”

I say, shaking my head.

“She’s a fucking brat,”

Knox mutters, and I recognize that tone; he likes it.

“Bryn, the blonde, used to work at the Midnight Whispers,”

Max says with a wicked smile, and Ryker sits straighter.

“The call girl business?”

Ryker laughs, leaning forward. “That’s interesting.”

“You used them?”

Max asks; his jealousy is obvious, making Ryker shift, his eyes glued on Max.

“No, never!”

Ryker snaps. “Just heard a lot about it on base.”

I nod, looking around, and everyone shakes their heads, even Ethan. That’s a fucking surprise; he’s the rich kid. I thought for sure he had used the service.

“She was flirting,”

I say, rolling my shoulders. “Bryn.”

“I noticed,”

Knox says, lowering his tone.

“But Aspen is the opposite.”

I shake my head, staring at Knox.

His demeanor changes when I mention her.

Knox is a dominant fucker; he likes a brat. Someone who’ll push his buttons and make him chase, and Aspen has already pushed several from what I can tell.

“Bryn’s hot, dude,”

Ethan adds. Ryker nods, and Max shoots him a look.

“Fuck. You’d rather have Aspen, don’t you?”

Ryker runs a hand through his hair, and Max nods.

I can’t stop laughing. These two are the worst.

Ryker and Max have been… a couple? Whatever they are, it’s been four years now, but Ryker has a hard time showing affection when we’re around. Hell, they don’t even sleep in the same room. It’s been eating at Max, and now with these girls here, I hope it doesn’t blow up.

“You all need to touch some fucking grass,”

Knox groans, standing up. “I mean it: no one touches them until we’re sure what the fuck will happen.”

“Yes, sir,”

Ethan mutters, earning another slap on the head.

He’s the youngest, not special forces like the rest of us, but he became our brother the second we saw him hurt after the plague, but the truth is we aren’t soldiers; we were, but haven’t been since way before the plague; we are mercenaries…

“I’m heading to bed,”

Knox says, walking to the door.

I snap back to the present and get up to follow him.

“Hey, Reaper,”

I call. He stops and takes a deep breath, turning to face me.

“We can’t kill them. You know that, right?”

I say, my eyes locked on him, steady as steel. I know him too well.

He cracks his neck, muscles taut under the strain. “I fucking know, brother. But I don’t trust them, especially the brunette. I’ve got a feeling she’s going to cause trouble.”

His jaw tightens, a subtle flicker of tension in his shoulders.

I nod. “But there are five of us; we’ll keep an eye on her.”

I clap a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s give them a chance. We don’t know what they’ve been through.”

“Right.”

He doesn’t sound convinced, but I know he won’t do anything yet.

He claps me on the back and heads to his room. I walk past the girls’ room and pause. Silence. They’re probably asleep.

A chill runs down my spine. I never thought I’d see a woman this close again—they’re like an endangered species. And Aspen… that defiance laced with fear…

Fuck me.

It’s too damn early, but sleep won’t come, not when my mind is tangled up in them. I throw the covers off with a frustrated sigh and head upstairs, hoping that maybe a hot cup of tea and something to eat will settle me.

I spent the night caught between thoughts of Aspen and Bryn. Even jerking off didn’t help, didn’t take the edge off.

I hear footsteps and don’t need to turn to know who they belong to.

“Can’t sleep, Reaper?” I ask.

He sighs and takes a seat on the bench next to the kitchen counter. “I’ve slept enough,”

he deadpans.

I turn and set a plate with eggs and fruit on the counter in front of him, but his gaze drifts to the door that leads to the rooms downstairs, and I know what he’s thinking before he says it.

“I didn’t unlock the door yet,” I say.

He nods, his shoulders tense. “We need to keep an eye on them and maybe keep them separate for a while. See what they tell us.”

His gaze is intense, words measured, like he’s weighing each one. The tension in his shoulders tells me he’s overthinking this.

“Bryn will tell us what we need to know,”

I reply, taking a sip of my tea and wishing it was coffee. Coffee and chocolate were the first things to disappear after the wars, so we dry our herbs, and Max makes the blends; they suck, but at least it’s something warm to drink.

“Bryn isn’t the one that worries me,”

Knox mutters, taking a deep breath.

I nod. Aspen’s different. I can tell she doesn’t want to be here, and the fact that she tried to shoot Knox and Max tells me everything I need to know, and it’s exactly what Knox is afraid of. None of us wants to kill a woman, but if Aspen becomes a liability, it might be the only option.

Ryker and Max come through the door. “Morning,”

Max says, and Ryker nods.

“Morning.”

I move two more plates to the counter.

I catch Max looking around before his eyes land on me.

“They’re still locked in the room,”

I say with a shrug, and Ryker laughs.

“They can pee in a bottle,”

Knox mutters, not even looking up.

“Shit, what if they need to pee?”

Ryker asks, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he shovels a spoonful of eggs into his mouth, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Ryker snorts, shaking his head, but no one argues. A beat of silence stretches, tension creeping back in.

“So what’s the fucking plan?”

Max finally asks, dragging everyone’s attention back to Knox. He sighs, cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders.

“We’ll try to learn more about them, keep them separated for a while, and see if their stories match.”

He repeats what he told me.

“And,”

I add, “let’s not make them feel like we’re savages. No sex talk.”

“What’s the fun in that?”

Ethan walks in shirtless, his hair a total mess.

“Grayson,”

Knox snaps, straightening on the bench, his muscles tensing under his shirt.

“I’m joking!”

Ethan raises his hands in surrender, flashing a devious smirk.

“I’m serious,”

Knox says, his voice like steel. “Until we know who they are and what they want, no one touches them.”

His gaze burns into Ethan.

Ethan Grayson can be a pain in the ass sometimes; he’s childish and always trying to prove himself to us, and I don’t even know why, but it’s annoying as fuck.

“I’m going to get the girls.”

I push up from my seat and head downstairs. The stairs screech against the floor, and the faint metallic scent in the air reminds me we need to do some maintenance on them.

I knock on the door, and a soft sound echoes from the other side. “Come in.”

The words are calm, a gentle invitation.

Opening the door, I find the two girls sitting on the bed. Their eyes lock on mine, Bryn smiles gently, while Aspen just stares, her gaze traveling down my body, and my cock twitches under her scrutiny.

“The bathroom is over there if you need it,”

I say, tipping my head toward the left. Aspen rises first, her fingers brushing Bryn’s as she takes her hand. It’s small, that touch, but I catch it. Instinct. Protection. Neither of them fully trusts us yet. Good.

I watch as they disappear through the doorway, my muscles tightening as I lean back against the wall. My mind spins through every possibility, every shift their presence could bring to the base. The sound of running water reaches me, a soft hiss against the silence. My gaze flickers toward the bathroom.

Dark tiles stretch from floor to ceiling, the space sleek and simple—grey and black, nothing unnecessary. An open shower takes up one side, fitted with six heads and a dark glass door. Four toilet stalls line the opposite wall, each with its own door, while a long vanity with three faucets sits beneath massive mirrors.

It’s not the coziest setup, but it works.

They take their time and finally exit; I lead them upstairs. “Good morning,”

Bryn says, pulling a chair to sit on at the table. The guys reply, and Ethan sits next to her, gaining a death stare from Knox.

Aspen, on the other hand, stands, looking around. I see her eyes going from window to window, the exit door. She is studying the place, her hand clenched to her side, and her breathing is fast.

I look at Knox and Max, both staring at her before locking eyes with me, and we nod. We know exactly what she’s doing.

“Eggs and fruit.”

Ryker places them both on the table, and Aspen finally sits; Ryker follows suit, sitting next to her, a smile on his face.

I almost chuckle at the snarl on Aspen’s face, but he pretends he doesn’t see it as he serves her some eggs.

“We have some clothes in the basement,”

Max says, taking a sip of tea. “There were a couple of women working here, and they left a lot of stuff behind.”

“That’s great; I need a change of clothing.”

Bryn turns to Max with that smile she’s been flashing at all of us, and I get it; this place is safer than whatever hell they were in before, and she’s doing her best to be gentle and convince us she could stay.

“I’ll show you and help bring the boxes up,”

Ethan smirks, and I glance at Knox. He’s already shaking his head.

Goddamn, Ethan! The moment he heard Bryn worked at the Midnight Whispers, he started his mission to fuck her.

The Midnight Whispers was one of the more upscale clubs near the bases, with more high-class clientele like generals and senators.

“Can I go outside?”

Aspen’s words pull me from my thoughts, her gaze focused on me, waiting.

Knox stiffens, peeling himself off the wall. “Why?”

His tone is sharp, cutting like a blade.

“Why not?”

She snaps back, standing and meeting his gaze head-on.

Damn. She’s got balls; I don’t know many people who’d go toe-to-toe with Knox, especially someone half his size.

“I’ll take her,”

I say, stepping in before Knox can decide to tie her up in the basement.

He nods, though his eyes never leave her.

“Will you be okay?”

Aspen asks Bryn, her tone low but firm. The blonde glances at Ethan, then back to Aspen, and I catch the smallest shake of her head. There’s a silent exchange between them before Aspen stands and heads to the door.

I follow her but stop beside Knox. “You saw that?” I murmur.

He nods, his eyes narrowing as they fix on Aspen; she’s standing near the keypad that unlocks the gate, her gaze flicking to it like she’s memorizing it, and his brows furrow.

“She’s planning to escape.”

Knox’s tone drops, cold and steady, his lips curling slightly with a flicker of amusement.

Knox has that look like he’s already thinking five steps ahead, and Aspen has no idea who she’s dealing with.

I move to the keypad, making sure my body blocks her view entirely. “Come on,”

I say, glancing over my shoulder to make sure she follows.

The base is all concrete and steel, painted in a deep, murky green that blends into the wilderness. A tall fence wraps around the perimeter, barbed wire curling along the top like thorns on a vine. Over time, bushes have swallowed parts of it, disguising the sharp metal beneath.

A few feet ahead, a wooden table sits between two benches, the wood darkened from rain and years of use.

“We’ve got a small farm over there, tomatoes, potatoes, spinach, stuff like that.”

I point to the north side of the base.

She’s not even looking; her focus is fixed on the gate, calculating.

Knox is right; the brat’s planning a way out.

I smirk to myself. Let her try; I’d love to see how far she gets before we hunt her down.

“Over the fence, we’ve got some animals from nearby farms. Most of the farms were destroyed, but the animals survived, so we brought them here and started breeding them.”

That gets her attention, and her eyes shift to the back gate.

“That’s smart,”

she murmurs. She glances toward the bunker door. “And that?”

“That’s where we store food,”

I say smoothly. “There’s a small fridge hooked up to solar panels and a generator to keep the meat from spoiling.”

I leave out the part about the bunker being our surveillance hub, loaded with enough guns and explosives to start a war. There’s no need to give her ideas.

“So you and Bryn…”

Her green eyes flick to mine. They’re sharp, assessing, but it’s her lips, small with a perfect cupid’s bow, that catch my attention, and my brain dives straight into the gutter, imagining those lips wrapped around my cock, her innocent eyes locked on mine, tears streaming down her cheeks—

“Me and Bryn what?”

Aspen snaps, pulling me out of my thoughts.

Fuck.

“How long were you two on your own?”

I take a step back, trying to put some space between her and the obvious problem behind my zipper.

She just stares at me, unblinking.

“You don’t have to tell me,”

I say with a casual shrug, turning back toward the base.

“Almost three weeks,”

she finally says, her words barely above a whisper. She pauses, her fingers fiddling with the edge of her sleeve, like she’s counting the days in her mind. “I think. I lose track of time sometimes.”

We all do. There’s no Monday or Friday anymore, just an endless blur of surviving between night and day.

“Must’ve been tough,”

I say honestly.

Her expression falters just for a second, and I catch a glimpse of something raw in her eyes before the mask slides back into place.

“Could’ve been worse,”

she says, her posture stiffening, her jaw clenched as she forces the words out.

I nod, not wanting to push more for now, so we head back inside, and I’m about to sit when shouting erupts from the basement.

“You fucker!”

Max roars, and I turn to see Ethan stumbling out of the basement doorway, hands raised in mock surrender. But Max doesn’t hesitate; he charges after him, his fists clenched, pure fury burning in his eyes.

Knox thunders up the stairs, his steps echoing.

“What the fuck happened?”

I bark, rushing to grab Max before he tears Ethan apart.