Page 176 of Ruthless Desires: Vol. One

I stare at him. He looks so young. How did he get involved in this kind of life? “How old are you?”

“Just turned nineteen last week.” He tosses the blanket onto the floor next to me. “And if anyone asks, I’m not the one who gave that to you.”

A deep voice calls out from downstairs. “Andrew?”

His eyes go wide. “Gotta go.”

The door closes, and I hear the lock sliding back into place. I grab the blanket and wrap it around my shoulders, doing my best to ease the tightening in my chest. But it’s no use.

You could’ve left it unlocked,I want to yell.You could’ve given me a chance.

Then I shake my head. He’s just a kid—he’s doing the best he can. I want out of here, but I don’t want Andrew to get himself killed trying to help me, either.

They’ll come for me. I know they’ll come for me.

The thought is meant to soothe me, but all it does is make my eyes fill with tears again.

I know they’ll find me.

That’s not the question.

The question is when they’ll realize they need to.

Chapter eight

Elliot

“Got him,” I say into my radio, staring down at the body from my hiding place next to the advanced trail. “Let’s deal with the body and get out of here.”

It doesn’t take too much time. Sparrow doesn’t care what happens to the body—just wanted the man dead. So we bury him a decent ways off the trail, making sure not to leave any blood behind. Someone will find him in the spring. There’s no way we could get him in the ground, so he’s just deep in the snow.

We’re back to our cabin before nine, packing up and getting ready to leave. Unfortunately, the earliest flight opening is around midnight tonight. We’re all impatient to get back home, but it’s the best we can do.

There’s no reason to stick around at the cabin, and I think all of us want to get to some place with cell service so we can call Wren. She’s off today, and as long as she’s awake, we should be able to talk to her.

We check into a hotel near the airport under the fake names we used to reserve the cabin. None of us have any desire to do any exploring around here. The fewer cameras—and people—that catch our faces, the better.

After we dump our stuff in our room, I turn my phone on and set it on the desk. It’ll take a while for any messages and notifications I got to come through, so I figure I’ll let it sit for a couple minutes.

Besides, we have some celebrating to do. Well, it’s notjustcelebrating. Sex after a job is a way for us to release the leftover tension and stress we usually end up with.

I turn to the bed. Oliver is already sitting on the edge, a lazy grin on his face. I straddle him, tilting his head up with a finger under his chin. Instantly, his gaze turns needy, and his lips part in anticipation of a kiss. I give him what he wants, gently nipping at his bottom lip.

When we pull away, I notice that Rhett has settled into the chair in the corner. His shoulders are sagging, and his breathing is slow.

“Not joining us?” I ask.

“Happy to watch.” The barest hint of a smirk flickers across his face.

“That’s fine by me.” I enjoy having an audience, and while it doesn’t get Oliver off, he doesn’t mind.

I crawl off the bed and move to my bag. After digging around for a second, I pull out lube and some ropes. When Oliver sees them, his eyes light up.

“Get up,” I say.

He stands without hesitation.

After tossing the ropes onto the bed, I pull Oliver’s shirt over his head. Then I take my time, leaving a trail of kisses down his neck, across his chest, and then down his stomach. Gently, I bite at the skin right by his waistband.