Page 62 of Ruthless Desires, Vol. One (Ruthless Desires Series Extended Editions #1)

Wren

The second I close myself in the room, a chill runs down my spine. Maybe this is a bad idea.

I almost open the door again to tell Oliver I changed my mind, but Jordan’s burning glare freezes me in place. It’s like he’s holding me in front of that trough again, ready to deprive me of oxygen until my body shuts down.

“Your boyfriends said I wasn’t going to get any food,” he says bitterly. His voice puts me right back in that cellar.

Get it together, Wren. He can’t hurt you like this.

“They left it up to me,” I reply, lowering myself onto the bed. I use the fork to cut off a small piece of the omelette and then stab it.

“Why are you feeding me?” he demands. “Is that poisoned?”

“When I kill you, it’ll be the same way you intended to kill me.” I hold the fork in front of his mouth, ignoring his first question. He doesn’t need to know the answer. No one does except me.

I want Jordan to suffer. I want him to feel the same fear I felt, to dissolve into the same hopelessness that I did. But there’s a difference between him and me—at least, I’m trying to make sure there is. He’s the monster here. Not me.

I’ll make sure he knows what it feels like to have his entire body screaming for air. But I have to draw the line somewhere. Starving him feels a touch too inhumane.

Grudgingly, Jordan takes a bite. I feed him silently until he’s finished the whole thing. When he’s done, he glares at me.

“If you think this makes me feel bad for kidnapping you, it—”

“I don’t give a shit what you think,” I say, standing. “You’re not worth the energy.”

I leave before he can think of a response.

Oliver is waiting for me in the hallway. He’s pacing and wringing his hands. When he sees me, he lets out a relieved breath before taking me into his arms. “I don’t think you should go in there by yourself again.”

“I was fine.”

“Princess—”

I kiss him. All three of them are worried about me, and maybe they have reason to be. I’m a fucking wreck. But I feel stronger than I ever have knowing they’re here for me. With me. They’re changing everything for my safety, and I’ll never forget that.

Oliver breaks off our kiss. “Please.”

“Okay. You can come in next time.” I frown. “If there is a next time.”

“Do you know when you want to kill him?” Oliver asks.

“I… I’m not sure.”

After I showered last night, I was so tense that Elliot asked me if I wanted to soak in the bath to relax.

At first thought, it sounded like a good idea.

But when I imagined myself going anywhere near that much water, it took everything in me not to dissolve into panicked tears.

I just told Elliot that I was too tired.

There’s so much going on in my head, and it feels like too much to dump everything on the guys.

Considering I woke up in the middle of the night freaking out from my dream, I’m glad I didn’t say anything.

Repeated near-drowning or not, I know how to keep my head above water.

It’s a stupid fear. Embarrassing, honestly. I can get over it on my own.

Still, it doesn’t solve my immediate problem.

I want Jordan to feel what I felt.

But to do that, I have to get close enough to a tub full of water so I can hold him under.

Unless I get over my newfound phobia of water real damn fast, I’m not sure what to do.

Sighing, I say, “Can I have a day or two to think about it?”

“Princess, you can have as much time as you need. We’re not going to rush you on this.” He eases the plate out of my hands.

I tug on my hair.

“There’s just so much happening in my head. I don’t know how to process or stop thinking about yesterday. And all I can remember about Friday evening was making dinner, and then the next thing I knew I was waking up in that room. There’s just this… blank spot in my mind. I hate it. And I don’t know what to do about Jordan because I—because it’s just… a lot.”

“Do you need to talk things out? Ell likes to journal his feelings, but it’s not my thing. He always listens whenever I need him. I can do that for you, princess. If you think it’ll help.”

“That would actually be really nice. I… I don’t know where to start, though.”

He smiles. “That’s okay. I’m gonna put the plate in the kitchen and tell the guys what’s going on, and how about you meet me in the living room in a minute?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

He kisses me on the forehead before heading back the way we came. In the living room, I settle on the couch, staring at the unlit fireplace. Talking to Jordan left me nervous, and I can’t pinpoint why.

Maybe because he tried to kill you. And Andrew.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I wonder what Ludo did with Andrew. I’d ask the guys to try and find out, but I’m not sure how they’d react. Especially Rhett. Considering what he did when Adam hurt me, I’m not sure how he’d handle finding out that Ludo could’ve saved me hours earlier but chose not to.

The last thing I want is for Rhett to do something that could jeopardize their long-term revenge plans. But not telling them that Ludo showed up feels wrong. Really, really wrong.

“Princess?”

I look up. Oliver is standing a few feet in front of me, frowning.

“You look like you’re going to be sick.”

“I… I think I’ll be okay.” My stomach feels a little off and my head hurts, but what else can be expected? I went almost two days without eating anything.

Oliver sinks onto the couch, placing his arm on top of the cushion behind me. “What’s on your mind? Do you want to talk about what happened Friday and yesterday?”

I swallow. “Sort of.”

He waits for me to gather my thoughts, letting me take my time.

When I’m ready, I say, “I’m feeling a lot of things. I’m angry at Jordan. So, so angry. He took out all of his pain on me when I was barely involved with Tyler’s death. I was so scared I wasn’t going to make it, Oliver. And when I stepped into that room to feed Jordan—when I looked into his eyes—it was like I was transported right back into the cellar.”

“Fuck,” he murmurs, his arm falling across my shoulders so he can pull me closer to him. “I knew it was a bad idea to let you go in there by yourself.”

“I want to hurt him. I want to kill him. But I’m struggling to figure out where my limits are. What will I regret doing? What will turn me into a monster? Am I already one for wanting to kill him?”

He sighs when I stop for a breath. “Is that why you fed him?”

Nodding, I shift so I can look him in the eye. “I don’t want to end up like him.”

“We’d never let that happen, Wren.”

I find comfort in the longevity of his promise—they’ll never let that happen.

I want this to be forever, too.

“You’re not a monster, Wren. I don’t even think I am. Or Rhett or Ell. You’re giving Jordan exactly what he was going to do to you. I’d say that’s justifiable.”

“You’re sure?” I whisper.

“He took away your power over yourself,” Oliver murmurs. “That’s unforgivable.”

I let his words sink in, doing my best to believe them. Is this what the guys had to go through when they decided to go after Ludo? Did they have to live through the horror of losing Sammy while also trying to figure out if they were in the wrong?

“And while we’re on the subject of people taking away your power,” Oliver continues, “I want to talk about last night. When Rhett gave you his shirt, and you froze up. I shouldn’t’ve pushed you. You needed privacy, and I completely invaded your space.”

I place a hand on his chest. “Thank you for understanding. And it’s okay—or at least, I get why it took a second for you to get what was happening. In the moment, I didn’t even fully understand what was going on in my head. But I do now. Sort of, anyway.”

He cups my cheek, his thumb stroking gently. “What happened?”

Shivering, I say, “I felt so human, Oliver. So small and weak and helpless and… crushable. And I still feel that way. I can open up to you emotionally without a problem, but the thought of taking my clothes off in front of you or anyone else makes me freeze up. I can’t explain it. I trust the three of you with my whole heart, but I just… I can’t.”

“I understand, Wren. It’s okay.”

I shake my head. “It’s not. I don’t like it.”

“Princess, Jordan tried to take away every shred of your humanity with what he did to you. He wouldn’t let you leave that room, he didn’t let you eat, he made sure you were uncomfortable and freezing, and he stole your ability to fucking breathe. Of course you’re going to have some type of aversion to vulnerability afterward. It’s okay.”

“But what if I never get over it?” I whisper.

“Do you think it’ll change how we feel about you?”

I look away.

“Wren… my god, have you been thinking that this whole time?”

“No. Yes? I don’t know. Would… would it change? What if I never want to have sex again? Because I don’t think I can. Not right now.”

“Wouldn’t change a thing,” he says. Doesn’t even hesitate.

“But I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. You’ve just been through hell. Give yourself space. I’m sure as time passes, you’ll figure out what you need to get comfortable with that level of intimacy. And until you’re ready—until there’s absolutely no doubt in your mind that you want it—we have no problem waiting. I think we’ve made that clear.”

“You have,” I whisper, running my fingers over the soft fabric of his sweater. “It means the world to me.”

“You mean the world to us, princess. And when I say you, I mean you. Your mind and your heart, not just your body. I love all of you, and I’m pretty sure I will forever. Whether I have sex with you again or not.”

Oliver’s reassurances melt my heart, but they do something else, too. For the first time since I woke up in that empty room on Friday night, I feel like I have some control over myself again. Not only is it a relief, but a sense of safety falls over me as well.

I took this conversation to what’s probably an unlikely scenario for me—no sex ever again. But Oliver didn’t even skip a beat. No negotiations, no pleading, no anger or entitlement. Just flat out acceptance. It’s a comforting reminder that with the three of them, I’m the safest I’ve ever been.

An idea sparks in my mind. A possibility, even if it’s one that’ll take some thought.

“I might know what I need,” I say hesitantly. “I’m not sure. I want to think it over for a few days. But if I’m right, would you be willing to help me?”

Oliver stills, his expression softening. “Of course.”

“Thank you.”

I kiss him, running my hands over his hair and clasping them at the back of his neck. With a smile against my lips, he snakes an arm under my legs and pulls me onto his lap.

Three times now, Oliver’s told me he loves me. We chatted a little on Fridays at the coffee shop, but it’s only been two weeks since we’ve started getting close. Yet this man is in love with me. He said he’d die a thousand deaths for me if it meant I got to live.

It all feels so overwhelmingly fast, but at the same time all three of them feel so right. I’ve learned so much about Elliot, Rhett, and Oliver over the past couple weeks. Much more than I would’ve if we hadn’t been thrown into multiple stressful situations.

I’m not sure I’m ready to say the words back, but when I don’t, Oliver doesn’t look even a little disappointed. It’s like he said he loves me with the sole purpose of making sure I know. There’s no ulterior motive, no expectation of me saying it back.

How? How did I get so unfathomably, unbelievably lucky?

Elliot peeks into the room. “Hey, sorry to interrupt. I was thinking of swinging by your apartment and grabbing some of your stuff. Can you make me a list of everything you need?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure. Thank you.”

“No problem, love.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it to me. “You can make the list on here. I’ll make sure to bring your phone back with me. Fuck, we’ll need to get you a new one too, O.”

I start typing away, trying to think of everything I’ll need. I’m not sure how long I’ll be staying here, but I definitely don’t want to be alone for the foreseeable future.

As I make the list, my mind goes into planning mode, thinking of all the things I need to do.

Ava’s probably texted me a thousand times, so I’ll need to reply to her.

Am I going into work tomorrow? I feel like that’s a bad idea.

It’s a new month, so I’ll need to—

Shit. It’s a new month.

“Oh my god,” I say, shooting up straight in Oliver’s lap. “I didn’t pay my rent yesterday.”

“You were a little occupied, princess,” Oliver says.

“No, you don’t understand. They’re really strict about it. I can’t be late. I can’t—” I stop when I notice Oliver and Elliot exchanging a meaningful glance. “What?”

“We, uh…” Oliver chuckles nervously. “We took care of it.”

“You… what?”

“Your rent is paid for the rest of your lease, love.”

My mouth opens and closes on its own accord, like it’s trying to say something. But my brain hasn’t caught up yet, so all that comes out is, “Huh?”

With an amused smile, Elliot comes to crouch in front of me and Oliver. He takes one of my hands, kissing my knuckles. “We meant to tell you. Actually, we meant to ask you first. But then someone got a little too excited and skipped a couple steps of our plan.”

“Hey! You make me sound like a little kid,” Oliver whines.

I laugh. It’s such typical behavior—all of it. Of course they paid my rent. Ever since that Friday two weeks ago, they’ve done everything they possibly can to take care of me. And Oliver jumping the gun is so him that I’m not even surprised.

“I probably would’ve said no,” I mutter.

“And that—” Oliver says, poking me in the side, “—is exactly why I didn’t wait to ask you. Every time money comes up, you get this really stressed out look on your face. I don’t like it.”

“What? No, I don’t!”

Elliot squeezes my hand. “You’re a horrible liar, love.”

“I’m not!”

“You have multiple tells,” Oliver says with a snicker. “We figured them out pretty damn fast.”

I sputter, trying to think of a reply, but I end up laughing into Oliver’s sweater, clutching the fabric with my fist. When I stop, I find both men staring at me. Elliot looks relieved, and Oliver looks like… well, he looks like a man who’s hopelessly in love.

Gently, I kiss them both. Then I say to Elliot, “Do you want me to come with you? To the apartment?”

“Only if you want, love. It might help you remember what happened Friday night when you got kidnapped.”

“Oh, that’d be nice.” I start to get up.

Oliver’s arms lock around my waist. “That’s not a good idea, Wren.”

“What? Why not? If I remember—oh.” I sag against him. Because while I hate not knowing what happened Friday night, I’m not sure I’m ready to remember. What if something horrible happened? Can I handle that right now? I don’t think so.

“Why don’t you give yourself some time, princess? Let yourself recover and work through everything you’re feeling now before adding something else to the mix.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” I mutter.

Squeezing me gently, Oliver says, “Is Rhett going with you, Ell?”

“No. He wanted to stay in case you two needed anything.”

Oliver frowns. “You’re going by yourself.”

“I’ll be fine, O.”

“I’m coming with you.” Oliver kisses my temple before lifting me off his lap and setting me on the couch. “You’ll be okay, princess?”

“Yeah. Thank you for listening to me.”

“Whatever you need,” he murmurs. Then he gives me one last kiss before he leaves with Elliot.

For a few minutes, I sit in silence, going over everything I said to Oliver. I feel a little better, but there’s still so much weighing on my chest. Why didn’t I tell Oliver that Ludo showed up and left me? How am I supposed to get over my fear of water? What if I’m never able to recover from what Jordan put me through?

No. I can’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen.

Without another thought, I stand from the couch and head upstairs. In Elliot’s bathroom, I close the door, leaning against it. Starting with the tub is a disastrous idea. It’s too big and intimidating. So I move to the sink, turning on the water.

It flows down the drain, and for a second I stand as still as a statue, making sure I’m ready for this. But the thing is, if I wait until I’m comfortable, I don’t think I’ll ever move forward. So I close the drain and let the sink fill up.

Once there’s an inch or two of water in the bowl, I dip my fingers into it, letting the warmth ground me. So far, so good.

“You can do this,” I tell myself, staring at my distorted reflection on the surface. “You have nothing to be afraid of.”

But as the level rises, my heartbeat quickens and my thoughts turn against me.

Freezing cold.

He’s not going to let me up.

I need air. I can’t hold on.

I’m going to die like this.

I shut the tap off before stumbling away from the sink. My back hits the wall, jarring me, and I finally tear my eyes away from the water. I fix my gaze on the floor. Sturdy. Solid. Safe.

My vision is blurred at first, but as my heartbeat slows, the white tiles come into full focus. Raising my head, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes are wide, and my breaths are short pants.

A realization hits hard, like a blast that threatens to topple me.

I can’t kill Jordan.

But almost immediately, a second realization enters my mind. This one steadies me and washes down the panic that’s still trying to claw its way up my throat.

But I know someone who can.

***

It takes me a while, but I find Rhett in what looks to be the library. He’s standing over a desk, glaring at an open laptop like it’s done something to personally offend him.

As I cross the room, he looks up. His gaze sweeps over my body, taking in every little detail. Apparently, he’s not satisfied with what he finds.

“Did something happen?” he asks, still looking me over with a hardened gaze.

“What?”

“You look worse than you did last night. Did something happen?” He’s already halfway across the room, meeting me in the middle and pressing the back of his hand to my forehead. “Are you feeling off? Have you been drinking water?”

“I woke up with a headache,” I mutter. “And my stomach feels a little weird, but I figure that’s normal. I think I’m okay.”

“How much water did you drink while Jordan had you?” He sighs. “Never mind. I know the answer.”

He leads me to the desk, grabbing a glass of water that’s next to his laptop and handing it to me. I take a few sips. When he gives me a disapproving glare, I drink some more.

“I had some water,” I say after I’ve drained most of the glass. “From the bathroom sink of the room I was locked in. But I didn’t think about it a lot.”

He nods, still frowning. Again, he looks me up and down. “I’m calling our doctor.”

“What? I don’t think—”

He holds up his hand to shush me, already tapping buttons on his phone. “We should’ve done it last night, or at the very least this morning. Fuck. We were all too preoccupied to think straight.”

“Rhett, you don’t…” I trail off with a sigh, watching him bring his phone to his ear.

He has a short conversation, and I can just make out a masculine voice on the other end. When he hangs up, he says, “He’ll be here in an hour. Christ, Wren. Sit down. You look like you’re going to pass out.”

I do, sinking into the chair behind the desk. Rhett stays close to me, checking my temperature with the back of his hand again and frowning.

“I’m okay,” I mutter.

“The doctor will decide that. Fuck. We shouldn’t’ve given you coffee this morning. That’s not going to help get you hydrated.”

I shrug off the thought, mostly because Elliot bringing us coffee in bed was really sweet. With a sigh, Rhett leans against the desk. I scooch the chair forward so our legs are just barely touching.

Nodding to his laptop, I ask, “What were you up to before I came in here?”

He narrows his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re not getting out of answering my question.”

“Wha… what?”

“Did something happen?”

I frown. “I’m probably just dehydrated. And tired.”

“Don’t think I can’t tell the difference between a physical ailment and an emotional one, sweetheart. You’re obviously suffering from both. So I’d advise you to stop avoiding my question.”

Jesus. Maybe I really am a horrible liar.

Drumming my fingers against the desk, I say, “I’m just not sure what to do about Jordan. It’s weird having him here.”

“Is it scaring you? Having him in the house?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then what’s going on?”

“I may need your help,” I say grudgingly. “Killing him.”

“You don’t want to do it?”

“I’m… nervous.”

Obviously, the guys would never let me drown Jordan alone. They’ll make sure he won’t ever touch me again. And if by some accident I end up falling into the water, they’d pull me out immediately. I don’t have any reason to be scared. But it’s too much. I just can’t.

“It’s your first kill,” Rhett says. “I’d say it gets easier from there, but it depends on the type of person you are. And who you’re killing.”

“Hmm.” That’s not my problem, but I don’t tell Rhett that. It’s too stupid, and he’s already worried enough about me.

“Are you asking for my help, Wren?”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I nod. I stare into my lap, too afraid that if I look at him, he’ll see exactly why I can’t do this on my own.

“Sweetheart.” His tone is gentle as he brings himself to his knees in front of me. The position is one he hates, although I’m not sure why, but he does it without a second thought.

“Yes?” I whisper.

“I’ll gladly do it. You want me to carve his heart out of his chest and give it to you, I will. You want me to hold his head under water repeatedly until you feel like you have justice, I’ll do it with a smile on my face. My will is yours, Wren, and these hands—” Rhett holds them out to me, “—will do whatever you direct them to.”

I place my hands in his, and he brings them to his lips, kissing each of my fingers. Maybe I should be deterred by a man who’s so willing to kill for me, but instead I find myself smiling down at him.

“Thank you.”

“Anything, Wren. Anything.”

The force in his voice has me closing the distance between us. Leaning down, I fuse my mouth to his in a grateful kiss. His hands rest on my thighs, and I stroke my fingers over his hair with a moan.

“You mean more to me than I ever thought I could feel toward a person,” I whisper when we pull away. I brush my nose against his.

Something fearful crosses Rhett’s face, but he schools his expression before it’s even been a full second. “I know, sweetheart.” Then he stands, looping his arms around me and picking me up.

I grab onto his shoulders with a surprised laugh. “What are you doing?”

“I have some work to do,” he says, sitting in the chair and settling me on his lap. “You’re not leaving my sight until you’ve seen our doctor. And in the meantime, you’re finishing that glass of water.”

“It’s okay that I’m on your lap? If you don’t want that much touching—”

“I want you close, Wren.” He brings one arm around my waist, typing on his laptop with one hand. “Reminds me that you’re safe.”

“Okay,” I whisper.

I dutifully sip my water, trying my hardest not to squirm too much as he works. He seems to be doing a mixture of answering emails and adding a variety of numbers, notes, and links to a colorful spreadsheet. Part of me wants to ask what it is, but the rest of me is absolutely enraptured by the way Rhett looks when he’s focused. He’s hardly blinking, that’s how caught up in his work he is.

When the doctor arrives, he checks me over. It’s a lot of poking and prodding that I want to shy away from, but it’s a necessary evil, so I grit my teeth and deal with it. Rhett holds my hand the entire time, explaining to the man what happened.

“She went without eating from Friday morning to late last night. Barely had any water, was potentially hypothermic for some of that time, and was also nearly drowned five times.”

The doctor looks up at Rhett, alarmed. “Five times? What the hell? Mr. Brooks, that’s—”

“I’m not paying you ten thousand dollars for you to do anything but mind your own damn business and keep your mouth shut. You know that. Is she going to be okay?”

I choke on air. Ten thousand dollars?!

How much money have they spent on me?

Oh god, I think I’m going to be sick.

“I’m well aware of my position, but if you’re hurting her, then I can’t just stand by and let that happen. Are you holding her captive? Or is this a sex thing? Or—”

“It wasn’t them,” I cut in. “They saved me.”

My voice isn’t convincing, mostly because I’m still recovering from the shock of how expensive this is. The doctor narrows his eyes, watching me briefly, before gathering his things.

“Her lungs sound fine. No persistent cough, miss?”

“No.”

“Then you’ll be fine in a day or two. Drink lots of water, don’t skip meals, and make sure to get plenty of rest. And please—stay away from bodies of water.”

Oh, I plan on it.

With a half-hearted smile, I say, “Thank you.”

The doctor turns to Rhett. “You want me back in two or three days to check on her?”

“Definitely.”

“Will do.”

Once he’s gone, Rhett starts fussing over me again. It’s too sweet to be annoying. Just as we finish eating lunch, Elliot and Oliver come inside, carrying my duffel bag and a backpack I normally keep under my bed. Elliot also has a familiar-looking box tucked into the crook of his arm.

“My book!” I rush over to him, ignoring the way it makes my head all fuzzy, and open the box with a grin.

Elliot lets out a relieved sigh. “I wasn’t sure if you’d like it.”

“It’s one of the best gifts I’ve ever received, Ell.” I stand on my tiptoes and peck him on the cheek. “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I could do,” he says, sweeping me into his arms and capturing my mouth with his.

If this is the least he can do, I can’t help but wonder what the most is. But then I realize I already know the answer to that.

Anything.

I nuzzle my face into Elliot’s chest before glancing between them. “You three are the best.”

Oliver winks at me. “Trust me, princess. We know.”