Page 196 of Ruthless Desires: Vol. One

When Wren reaches for me, I take her into my arms, kissing her cheek softly. Feeling her ribcage expand as she takes a breath calms my nerves. But then we all hear footsteps overhead, and she jumps, clinging to me.

“Fuck.” Rhett stands. “We dealt with everyone outside before we came in, but we heard you shouting before we could clear the house.”

“I counted three plus Jordan inside before we came down here,” I say. “Could be more, though.”

Elliot hands me Jordan’s gun. “You stay with Wren. Rhett and I will find everyone else.”

I nod. The last thing I want is for the four of us to be separated again, but Jordan’s men could easily sneak down here and ambush us. None of us are safe until all of his men are eliminated.

So I move Wren from my lap to the floor next to me. We sit side by side, leaning against the trough, our fingers intertwined. Rhett and I exchange a quick glance, and I nod, silently telling him I’m okay. He clenches his jaw, and for a second all the rage he’s feeling becomes visible. But then he tamps it down again.

“We’ll be back in a couple minutes,” he says tightly, and then he turns and helps Elliot carry Jordan upstairs.

Wren leans her head against my shoulder. She’s shaking, but at least her breathing has evened out some. If I could, I’d wrap her up in my arms, but I need to be ready to jump to my feet at a moment’s notice.

At some point, Wren starts crying again. She tries to stay quiet, so it’s mostly sniffles and silent sobs that rack her body. I squeeze her hand, keeping my eyes on the door.

“We’re gonna get out of here soon, princess. I promise.”

There’s movement upstairs, and it sounds like bodies are being dragged across the floor. A few minutes later, footsteps are pounding on the stairs, and Rhett steps back into view.

“It’s safe.”

Gently, I help Wren up. Her cheeks are covered in tear tracks, her hair is still dripping, and my T-shirt is soaked. Her skin is covered in goosebumps, and she’s shivering even worse now.

“We need to get her warm,” I say to Rhett.

Rhett tears off his coat. “My shirt is still dry.” He pulls his long-sleeved T-shirt over his head, revealing an undershirt underneath. “Sweetheart, take that off. It’s practically dripping.”

She doesn’t move. When I reach for the hem, she recoils.

“Wren?” I say. “What’s wrong?”

Stumbling away from us, she shakes her head. “No.”

I step toward her. “Princess—”

“Don’t.” Rhett grabs me by the shoulder and hauls me back. Then he holds his shirt out to Wren, careful not to crowd her. “I understand, sweetheart. It’s okay. We’ll wait outside the room, and you can get changed down here.”

She takes the shirt silently.

Rhett pulls me through the doorway and out of sight. It takes me a second to understand what’s going on—that Wren is having a similar reaction to how Rhett acts when he’s upset. Being touched is the last thing he wants, and any semblance of vulnerability makes his skin crawl.

And of course Wren is feeling a similar way. It’s stupid that I didn’t realize it immediately. Someone just took away her ability to breathe, for fuck’s sake. Of course she needs privacy.

When Wren steps out of the cellar, she doesn’t look at either of us. Rhett’s shirt hangs loosely on her, and she’s pushed up the sleeves so she can hold her clothes without getting them wet.

I want to hold her. I want to kiss her on the forehead and remind her that she’s not alone. I want to pull her into my arms and tell her that everything’s okay now, that she’s safe, that we’ll never let this happen again. But I don’t think it’s what she needs right now.

We follow her upstairs. In the living room, three men plus Jordan are tied up to what looks like dining room chairs. All of the men are unconscious, and Jordan is just beginning to wake up, a groggy panic setting in.

When Elliot sees us, he tosses me a hoodie. “I had it as an extra layer. You need it more than I do.”

I pull it on, thankful for the warmth and the scent of sandalwood and oranges that’s always reminded me of afternoons curled up next to Ell while he reads a book.

“Wren,” Elliot says.

She tears her gaze away from the men lined up in the chairs. When she looks at Elliot, her expression softens. The fear that was in her eyes earlier disappears, and the clothes she’s holding drop from her hands. And then she runs to him, jumping into his arms and burying her face in his neck.