Page 4 of Ruthless Desires: Vol. One

“Oliver.”

My eyes snap to Rhett. “What?”

“Stop staring at the poor woman and drink your cappuccino.”

Whoops.

I blow on my coffee before taking a small sip.What’s with me today?

Somewhere inside me, I already know the answer. I can hear my mom’s voice in my head, soft and gentle and always so patient.

You’re just trying to find a small bit of hope. Something to hold onto so you can get through this easier.

I sigh. It’s been ten years. Ten years since we lost Rhett’s little sister and set out to find the man who killed her. We’re closer than ever to destroying him, but the process has been grueling. I’m tired.

So, so tired.

“It’s good?” Elliot asks, nodding to my cappuccino.

“Perfect.”

The smile I give him isn’t as vibrant as earlier, and I’m pretty sure he notices. He squeezes my arm as the three of us fall into easy conversation. It’s the type of interaction I miss with Ell and Rhett. When we’re at home, we’re usually caughtup in work or our revenge plans. But out in public, we can’t talk about any of that.

It’s just us again—normalus. Relaxed and maybe even having some fun. There’s nothing I love more.

“Oh my god, Wren.”

I glance up in time to find the other barista playfully rolling her eyes.

“What?” Wren says, her voice coming from below. “YouknowI’m at a good part!”

I have to peer over the edge of the counter to find Wren. She’s crouched down in a corner with an open book in her hands. She must’ve stashed it on one of the shelves. When she glances up at us, her expression turns bashful.

“It’s areallygood part,” she says, hugging the book to her chest.

“You’re not getting any judgment from me,” Elliot says. “I understand.”

At that, she perks up. “You like books?”

“Love them. Haven’t had much time for reading lately, and I miss it.” He tilts his chin toward her book. “What’ve you got there?”

“Oh, it’s an epic fantasy. It’s… a lot to try and explain. But you know, it’s got all the usual stuff. Prophecies and quests and high stakes. Oh, and fairies.”

“Sounds intriguing.”

“Mmhmm.” Wren glances to me and then to Rhett. “Do either of you like to read?”

“Some,” Rhett says, and I can practically hear the effort he’s putting into making sure he doesn’t sound too stiff. “But mostly nonfiction.”

“And you?” she asks me. She’s standing now, still holding her book, and I feel a little bad for pulling her away from her story.

“Not… not really. I’m more of a movie person, you know? Although I still listen to the occasional audiobook.”

Her expression brightens. “That counts.”

Tilting my head, I think on it for a second before nodding. “Yeah, I guess it does. The last one I picked up was a murder mystery. It was quite fun.”

“Oh, I love a good murder mystery. I haven’t—” Wren stops when the bell above the door rings. “Oh, hold on a second.” She moves to the register and greets the couple that just came in.