Page 56 of Ruthless Desires, Vol. One (Ruthless Desires Series Extended Editions #1)

Wren

The house is oddly quiet. A couple hours ago, I watched Jordan and two of his men pile into a car and leave. It has me wondering how many people are even here right now. I’ve been trying to keep track of the different voices I hear, and I’m pretty sure there’s only one man in the house—especially since I haven’t heard any type of conversation since Jordan left.

I’m still trapped in this stupid room, but with the element of surprise on my side, maybe I could manage to get the hell out of here. That is, if someone decides to check on me. Trying to break down the door would make too much noise, and whoever’s in the house would know exactly what’s going on.

But still, this is the best chance I have at escaping. I have to try something.

What would Elliot do?

Oliver has said on multiple occasions that I remind him of Elliot. He’s the thinker. The planner. The one who figures out the best way to navigate any type of situation, like a chess player who’s always thinking ten moves ahead.

I can do that, too. And I can find the strength—mental and physical—to make it out of this alive. I have to.

So I go through the bathroom, looking for anything that I could use as a weapon. But the cabinet under the sink is empty. All I have is a bar of fucking soap.

As I’m about to turn away, I realize that’s not true. The lid to the top of the toilet could do a decent amount of damage if I’m able to get close enough to someone. Which I potentially could if I can keep the element of surprise.

Quietly, I take the lid off. It’s porcelain, so it’s kind of heavy, but that’s a good thing in this case. Then I tiptoe to the door, gripping the lid tightly.

As long as I can get out of this room, I think I have a decent chance of escaping. There’s still a car in the driveway, so all I have to do is find the keys for it. From there, I’ll need to wait until the two men who are walking the perimeter of the yard are behind the house. They won’t see me heading down the driveway, and then I should be clear.

I’m not sure where to go from there, but I’ll figure it out. It can’t take long until I hit a main road, right?

You can do this, Wren. One step at a time.

“Help,” I yell. “Help me, please!”

Pausing, I listen for movement downstairs. It takes a second, but then the sound of footsteps on the stairs reaches me.

Perfect.

“Help,” I shout again, adding in as much fear and desperation to my voice as I can.

When I hear the door unlocking, my stomach jumps. But I steady myself, raising the lid over my head so I’m ready to strike.

The door opens, and when one of Jordan’s men steps through, I slam the lid over his head. He stumbles, but it isn’t enough force to knock him out. With a yell, he lunges toward me, knocking the lid out of my hands. I manage to knee him in the balls, which causes him to double over, and then I slam my elbow into his back.

He falls to his knees, momentarily disoriented. It gives me just enough time to grab the lid again and whack him on the head. This time, he crumples to the floor with a thud, unconscious.

I don’t waste any time. First, I search his pockets, and relief spreads through my chest when I find what looks like a set of car keys. Then I grab his gun, keeping it in my hands so I can use it at a moment’s notice.

Outside the room, I lock the door hastily so he can’t come after me. The house is quiet, but I still sneak down the stairs. The first floor is fairly open, and thankfully I don’t see anyone else.

So far, so good.

Silently, I creep to one of the windows, peering out. The two guys walking the perimeter still have the driveway in their view, but only for another minute or so. And once the car is out of their sight, I’ll have a very short time frame to get into it and down the driveway. There won’t be a second to waste.

I’d kill them, but I’ve never actually shot a gun before. What if my aim is off and all I do is attract attention to myself? No, the best option is to try to get away without them noticing.

Once the house is almost blocking their view, I head outside through the front door. It’s freezing, and I realize I should’ve looked for a coat or at least taken the shirt from the man I knocked out. But I don’t have time to turn back.

Once I’m in the car, I shut the door quietly and turn it on, praying that the engine turning over isn’t loud enough to attract attention. And then I head down the driveway as fast as I can considering it’s covered in snow.

It’s surrounded by trees on either side, and there’s a turn before it hits the road. Just as I finish following the curve, I slam on the brakes. An SUV is heading up the driveway.

The car slides a bit before coming to a full stop. There’s no way for me to even try to get around the SUV. The trees make it too tight. So I get out, diving into the trees. It’s just starting to get dark out, but it’s not enough to conceal me.

A car door slams behind me. I don’t even make it thirty seconds before a large body is tackling me to the ground. The snow helps to cushion my fall, but it still hurts.

“No,” I scream as two pairs of hands yank me up. I try to twist out of their grasp, but it’s me against two men. They take me back to the SUV, lifting me and throwing me into the trunk.

As the door slams shut, I scramble to my hands and knees, only to come face to face with Oliver. His hands are zip tied behind his back, and he has a cut on his cheek.

What?

“Hey, princess.” He gives me a half-hearted smile.

“No. No, no no no. Oliver, how—”

“Shh,” he soothes. “I need you to calm down. Deep breaths, Wren.”

I shake my head as tears fill my eyes. Gently, I brush over the cut on his cheek. What happened? How did they kidnap Oliver, too? And if he’s here, then where are Elliot and Rhett?

The SUV lurches forward. Carefully, I peer into the front of the vehicle. There’s one man driving, and Jordan is in the passenger seat. The other man who got me into the trunk is currently driving the car I stole.

“I was so close,” I whisper.

“I know, princess. I’m sorry.”

“Oliver, I can’t go back. I can’t do it again. He’s going to kill me.” It’s a struggle to keep my voice down, but somehow I barely manage.

“Listen to me,” he says quietly. “You’re going to be okay. But don’t agitate him more. Just let them bring us inside.”

“Oliver, no—”

“Yes, Wren. Trust me.”

I look into his eyes, trying to figure out what he means—what he knows but can’t say. But the only thing I see is fear.

“Please,” he whispers as the SUV comes to a stop in front of the house.

I nod. “Okay.”

The trunk door opens, and Jordan’s men pull both of us out. I cringe against the cold, but they don’t keep us outside for long. Every part of me wants to fight against the man holding me, but I follow Oliver’s lead. He’s walking calmly, letting two men shove him around as they bring us through the house.

Jordan follows us upstairs, where we can hear a pounding of sorts.

“Let me out! Get me out of here!”

The man I fought earlier must be awake. Shit. I wasn’t supposed to be here when they discovered him.

Jordan unlocks the door and throws it open. “Seriously?” he yells. “How the hell did she get the better of you?”

“She surprised me,” the guy says, staring at the ground in embarrassment. His head is bloody from where I hit him.

Jordan turns to me, and his eyes are void of everything except hate. “You thought you could get away?” He advances toward me until he’s in my face. “You thought you could outsmart me? Stupid girl.”

“Fuck you,” I grit out.

My defiance earns me a slap to the face, which makes Oliver try to fight against the men holding him. My cheek stings, but I don’t care. If Oliver is back, that means Elliot and Rhett are home, too. Beforehand, I was beginning to lose hope. But with Oliver here, it’s like I have access to some secret reserve of strength that’s deep within me.

I’m still scared as hell. And if I find myself in that cellar again, I’m not sure I’ll make it out alive. But I just need to not think about that. Elliot and Rhett will find us. I know they will.

“No one comes in here by themselves,” Jordan yells, snatching the toilet lid from the ground. “Lock them up. And I want two of you guarding the door at all times.”

The men release us, shoving Oliver to his knees before exiting the room. The second the lock slides into place, I run to him. Crouching down, I throw my arms around him. He’s warm and familiar and safe. A little piece of home in this hellish nightmare.

“Shit, Wren. You’re freezing.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“No—fuck. Let me get up.”

I help him to his feet. Carefully, he bends at his knees and brings his hands down. Then he steps through his arms so his hands are in front of him. “Can you tighten the zip tie for me?”

“What? Tighten it?”

“Trust me, princess.” He holds his hands out to me. Once I’ve tightened the zip tie as much as I can, he steps back from me and raises his hands above his head. Then, with his elbows open, he brings his arms down hard until they connect with his sides. The force breaks the plastic, and it falls to the ground.

My eyes widen. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I’ll teach you how to do it once we’re out of here,” he says as he pulls his T-shirt over his head. “Here. Put this on.”

I do. It smells like him, vanilla with a hint of woodiness. Despite our situation, it helps me to relax.

“C’mere, princess.” Oliver opens his arms to me, and I step into them immediately, burying my face in his neck. He holds me so tightly I’m afraid he might squeeze the life right out of me, but I don’t mind. All I want is to be as close to him as possible.

“How did they kidnap you?” I ask.

“I let them on purpose,” he says quietly.

“What?!” I try to pull away, but he refuses to let me out of his arms.

“Shh, keep your voice down, princess. Is the room bugged?”

“I—I don’t know.”

Looking around, he says, “I highly doubt it is, but just in case…” He takes my hand and pulls me into the bathroom. After he turns on the shower, he raises his wrist. “See this bracelet?”

I nod.

“It has a GPS tracker in it. Rhett and Elliot should be on their way to us right now. They’re going to get us out. And then we’ll get you home.”

“They let you do that?”

Oliver grimaces. “I may have told them my plan when I was already far enough away that they couldn’t stop me.”

“Oh my god. Oliver, they’re going to be so upset.”

“They are. But once we’re all safe, they’ll understand. It was the quickest way we could get to you. Jordan was refusing to tell us anything.”

I shake my head. “Oliver, he could kill you.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“No! Oliver, why? Why would you do this? If you die—”

He places a finger over my lips to quiet me. And once I’ve stopped talking, he rests his forehead against mine. “Because I love you, Wren. Maybe it’s too fast, but I don’t care. I love you, and I’d die a thousand deaths if it meant you got out of here alive.”

He loves me. The thought makes my head spin, even as my heart beats a little stronger and my breaths come a little easier.

But I shake my head. “No, you can’t die. What about Elliot? What about Rhett? Oliver, you can’t do that to them!”

“I’m not,” he says gently. “We’re going to make it out of this alive, princess. All of us. Now tell me, how did you get away?”

The abrupt change of subject is mildly disorienting, but if he doesn’t want to talk about this, fine. Hopefully we’ll get a chance to later.

“My elbows and knees.”

“What?”

“Elbows and knees. They’re my best assets.”

With a smirk, Oliver pulls away, his gaze running down my body. “Oh, I don’t know about that, princess.”

I roll my eyes. “You know what I mean. I surprised him, and then I hit him in the head with the top of the toilet, but I didn’t use enough force and he knocked it out of my hands. So I used a knee here, an elbow there, knocked him out, and then ran.”

Oliver snorts. “Remind me to stay on your good side.”

I laugh. It’s not wholehearted, but I think it’s the first time I’ve smiled since I opened the gift they got me.

How was that only yesterday?

Oliver must sense my lingering distress. He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me into him. “We’re going to be okay, princess. They’ll come for us. And between Elliot’s planning skills and Rhett’s anger, there’s no way they won’t succeed.”

I find myself relaxing a little more. “You’re sure?” I can’t watch you die.

“Positive,” he whispers. “I promise.”