Page 36 of Ruthless Desires: Vol. Two

“So you—”

“Ladies,” Ludo calls, his impatience overt this time.

Aubrey rolls her eyes before grumbling, “I can’t wait for this whole thing to be over with.”

***

We end up sitting around the fire pit for an hour or two, lighting it as the sun goes down. The conversation stays casual for the most part, and I notice that Aubrey is considerably different now that we’re around Ludo. Her demeanor is still bright and happy, but she’s much quieter. She doesn’t let on that a single intelligent thought has ever gone through her brain, even though that’s how she acted around me.

How odd.

I struggle to pay attention because no matter how loud everyone talks, I can always hear the waves lapping against the shore. By the time it’s fully dark, I’ve crept as close to Elliot as I can. He’s been telling stories about winter ski trips and summer backpacking adventures, probably trying to make Aubrey comfortable. He’s good at that.

Elliot’s voice is the only thing keeping me tethered to real life. Well, that and the way he has an arm securely anchored around my waist. His thumb rubs up and down my side comfortingly. It’s a reminder that I’m here, on dry land, a perfectly safe distance from the ocean. Next to him, I have nothing to be afraid of.

Still, all I want to do is bury my face in Elliot’s chest and dissolve into anxious tears. I can’t—I know that. But it’s getting harder to breathe with every passing minute.

Ludo starts talking about a childhood experience he had that’s similar to one of Elliot’s. It’s odd, thinking a monster like him was ever a child.

Since Ludo’s attention is diverted, Elliot leans down and kisses my temple. He glances at the ocean. “We need to get you out of here.”

“I’ll just go inside for a few minutes,” I mumble.

I excuse myself and head into the house. On my way to the bathroom, I pass by a small table and set the sunglasses on it, praying they’ll go unnoticed since there’s a set of keys already on it. It looks like one of those surfaces people would absentmindedly set stuff on, and that’s exactly what we’re going for.

In the bathroom, I shut myself in and stare at my reflection in the mirror. Every once in a while, I get overwhelmed by all the horrible things in the world, and all my thoughts feel like they’re crushing me.

That’s how I feel now. Everything is too much. My fears, and how stupid they make me feel. Ludo, and how much I want to watch the life slowly bleed out of him. Jordan, fucking Jordan, and how I wish he was still alive so we could kill him again.

Slowly, I draw in a deep breath. I can be angry later. But right now, if I stay inside the house too long, Ludo or one of his bodyguards might get suspicious.

Think of something nice. Something to calm you down.

My mind instantly goes to the first night I had with the guys. They were so sweet at the ball. As I remember the way Oliver said I looked like a princess, I smile. Then it widens when I think of Rhett. Rhett, who hates crowds and doesn’t know how to dance, but did it with me anyway. And of course, there was Elliot, who pulled me away from the ballroom and kissed me and then made sure I felt safe the whole night.

My god, I love all of them so much.

I sigh. Some of the emotional weight has dissipated, and my chest feels lighter. After another long breath, I step out of the bathroom.I can do this.

Before heading back to the patio, I stop in the living room. There’s a set of large windows that overlooks the beach. I wonder if watching the water from the safety of the house will help ease me into getting back outside. As I watch the waves, I fiddle with the fabric of my skirt, trying to talk myself up.

It’s far enough away.

The guys would never let you drown.

There’s nothing to be afraid of. Not really.

“You don’t seem to like the ocean,” Ludo says from behind me.

I jump, focusing on his reflection in the window as he walks closer to me. “Didn’t realize you were in here.”

He doesn’t reply, and we stand next to each other in silence. I go back to staring at the dark water, trying to find the courage to go back outside. Somehow, Ludo is the less-scary option, and I hate it.

“There’s nothing wrong with fear, you know,” Ludo says. “It’s cowardice that’s your problem.”

If I wasn’t already struggling to control my emotions, I’d probably be able to hold my temper. But his accusation is like throwing gasoline on my already-smoldering anger.

“I’m not a coward,” I snap, whipping around to face him.