Page 173 of Ruthless Desires: Vol. One

Jordan yanks me up. I gulp in air as water streams from my hair down my body, soaking my clothes. Standing, Jordan knocks me to the ground.

“Maybe once they get these videos,” Jordan grumbles, “your men will think twice before crossing a Williams.”

“Fuck you,” I manage in between coughs.

Jordan doesn’t acknowledge me. “Keep her locked in here. And get me a different tub. It’s too fucking crowded in here.”

Chapter six

Oliver

I stare at my phone, willing one of the little bars in the top corner to light up. Talking to Wren over the phone after we landed this afternoon was nice, but it just made me miss her more.

This is going to suck.

We lost service minutes after my conversation with Wren ended, and we probably won’t get it back until we’re headed to the airport after the job is done. With a sigh, I shut my phone off. No sense wasting the battery.

Currently, we’re in our cabin studying up on the ski resort our mark is staying at. It’s fancy as hell, like the places Elliot’s parents used to take us to during winter break. It reminds me of how easily the three of us could’ve never crossed paths—and makes me all the more grateful that we did.

Elliot went to prestigious private schools his entire life. Rhett and I, on the other hand, were in the public school system for most of our childhood. We both ended up at Elliot’s academy freshman year on scholarships. We’ve always joked that it was a mistake that I got one since I wasn’t the best at academics, but I like to think it was fate making sure we were together.

The three of us became fast friends, and since Elliot’s family was loaded, they always brought us on their winter vacations. Mr. and Mrs. Hayes would let us do whatever the hell we wanted, and it was a blast. I never thought I’d get to learn how to ski or snowmobile or any of that shit. To this day, we always make a pointto ski a couple times every winter. We’re not pros by any means, but we don’t suck, either.

I glance at Rhett from where I’m sitting at the kitchen table. After we had sex, he passed out immediately and stayed asleep for the entire flight. He volunteered to drive after we landed, which honestly was a relief. Elliot looked exhausted, and the last thing I wanted to do was drive in an unfamiliar place. With or without my anxiety meds—which I’m back on after a conversation with Rhett, Elliot, and Wren—driving has always made me nervous.

When I move my gaze to Elliot, I find him frowning over a map on the table. He looks up when he feels his eyes on me.

“You good?” I ask.

He nods. “Just trying to figure out a way to get home sooner.”

That’d be nice.

Elliot points to a map of the resort’s cross-country ski trails. “I scoured his social media and found what looks like a pattern. Every day he’s out here, he posts a similar set of photos—his skis, the sunrise from the trails, and his breakfast at the resort. Must use the resort’s Wi-Fi, because there’s no damn way he has service out here.”

I sigh, looking around.I wish our cabin had Wi-Fi. Then we could talk to Wren.

“How much people post publicly on the internet will never cease to amaze me,” Rhett grumbles. He’s been grouchy ever since he woke up.

“To be fair,” I say, “the average person doesn’t have to worry about someone following them across the country to kill them.”

Absentmindedly, Elliot runs his thumb across his bottom lip. My guess is he didn’t even hear what Rhett and I said. “He likes to get out in the early mornings. Probably has a light snack, hits the trails during sunrise, and then has a big breakfast at the resort’s restaurant.”

I lean forward. “So he’ll be alone.”

“And completely vulnerable,” Rhett adds.

“Exactly,” Elliot says. Then he points to a spot on the map. “All the trails start here. There are eight of them—three for beginners, three for intermediate skiers, and two for advanced skiers.”

I groan. “How are we supposed to watch over eight trails?”

“Captions,” Elliot mutters, tracing his finger along one of the black lines on the map.

“What?”

He stays silent for another moment.

I can’t help but smile as I watch him. The way Elliot’s brain works is fascinating to me. He’s almost always calculating something, even if it’s in the back of his mind. It’s like life is a chess game to him, and he’s always got five different strategies going while determining what moves will put him at the best advantage. Or however it works. I suck at chess.