Page 1 of Ruthless Desires, Vol. Two (Ruthless Desires Series Extended Editions #2)

Wren

It’s just water.? ? ? ? ?

It’s just water.

It’s just water.

I can’t get in enough air. My chest feels constricted, like some invisible force is trying to crush me until I’m nothing but dust.

Not enough air.

Need to breathe.

Let me up, please just let me up.

My lungs are aching. My body is screaming for air. My head is pounding, my mind is going fuzzy. Is this what it feels like to die? How close was I to death? How close am I now?

My name. Someone’s saying my name.

But I can’t make it out—the word is a blur, and there’s no distinguishable voice. Hell, I can’t even see the water in the sink anymore.

“Wren? Wren.”

Hands are on my waist, arms encircling me. I’m pulled away from the stability of the counter, but I don’t lose my balance. No, something—someone—is holding me up. Someone familiar. Warm.

“Wren, look at me. I’ve got you. No one’s going to hurt you here.”

Something soft presses against my cheek. A sweater, I think. It smells nice. Like safety and sandalwood and oranges.

Ell.

“Love, please.”

He takes one of my hands and presses it to his chest.

“Focus on my heartbeat.”

A sound leaves my throat. Not a sob—I don’t think I’m crying. It’s more like a hum, startled and confused and the only acknowledgment of his presence I can manage.

“Take a breath through your nose,”

he says soothingly.

“Just like that, Wren. Now let it out slowly. Good, good. Again.”

He does it with me once, twice, three times.

As I follow his instructions, I begin to regain my senses. I’m in the kitchen. Late afternoon light is streaming in from the windows. Elliot has one arm tightly around my waist, and the other is pressing my hand into his sweater. His heartbeat is steady as he searches my face, his eyebrows furrowed.

“There you are,”

he murmurs, his voice weighed down with relief and terror at the same time.

“What…”

I glance around, catching the still-full sink in my peripheral vision. My body goes rigid at the sight.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got it.”

Elliot loosens his hold on me, reaching into the sink to pull the plug. The water level immediately starts going down.

Fuck. What was I thinking?

Probably that I’m about to go on a trip to the fucking ocean and that I need to get it together.

After drying off his hands, Elliot turns toward me. He keeps himself in between me and the sink as he runs a hand over my hair.

Guilt twinges in my chest. Did I scare him? I’m not exactly sure what he just walked into, but I know it was probably concerning.

“Can you tell me what just happened?”

He keeps his voice even and gentle despite the panicked gleam in his eyes.

“I…”

My gaze drifts back to the sink and the receding water. How did this start?

After following my line of sight, Elliot pulls me out of the kitchen. The more distance there is between me and the water, the more clearly I can think. It’s like I can literally feel the tension leaving my body.

In the living room, he sits on the love seat and draws me onto his lap.

“Talk to me, love.”

My idea comes back to me, and I cringe. It’s stupid—god, it’s so stupid. But it was the only thing I could think of.

“Being around water has been difficult since… well, you know.”

Elliot nods slowly, watching me intently, but he doesn’t say anything.

“I’m trying to get over it,”

I say.

“I figured the sink is a good place to start. It still scares me, but I can step away from it if I need to.”

He frowns.

“You didn’t look like you were able to do anything.”

“I wasn’t anticipating it to go that poorly,”

I mutter.

“The first time I did it, it was horrible. But I tried it again yesterday, and it went all right. But today…”

I shake my head.

“I couldn’t control my thoughts.”

When I meet Elliot’s eyes, my stomach sinks. He looks so worried.

“You weren’t breathing.”

Holding his gaze feels too intense, so I look down, trailing my fingers along the ridges of his sweater.

“I felt like I was drowning.”

With a sigh, Elliot pulls me closer to him. I rest my head on his shoulder, focusing on taking deep breaths.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” I mumble.

“I know, love.”

His lips feather over my hairline.

“But you don’t have to do this on your own. You know that, right?”

I nod.

“It’s up to you,”

he says softly.

“I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not comfortable with. Just promise me you won’t do anything dangerous.”

“I promise.”

It’s not like I can’t swim, either. But I’m also planning on avoiding pools and large bodies of water while we’re in Florida. The thought of being surrounded by that much water makes me shudder.

“That’s why you had Rhett drown Jordan, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,”

I whisper.

It’s been three days since we killed Jordan in the basement. I’m glad we got it over with, but I’ve had a couple moments of regret. Not for killing him, but for ending his life too soon.

Now is one of those moments.

Why am I the one who has to live with the aftereffects of his actions? He’s not in pain anymore. He’s not anything anymore. But I am. I’m tired and angry and trapped in my own thoughts and terrified I’ll never find a way out.

In a way, death was mercy for Jordan. And I hate that we gave it to him. At the same time, regretting that we didn’t torture him more is such an unexpected thought for me to have. It’s unsettling.

“Are you still okay to…”

Elliot trails off, grimacing, and I understand why. He was about to give me the opportunity to ask for something he can’t really follow through on.

“I’m good, Ell. Promise.”

We leave tomorrow for the job Ludo Holloway hired the guys for. It’s entirely too late to back out now, and we both know it. The guys need to get as close to Ludo as possible, and this is the best opportunity they’ve ever been presented with.

After a long breath, Elliot nods.

“You’ll always have one of us with you. And if you ever find yourself alone, no one will know where we’ll be. You’ll be safe. I swear, Wren, I’m never letting anyone hurt you again.”

“I know,”

I whisper.

I don’t.

It’s not that I doubt how much they’ll try to keep me safe. But everyone’s human. Everyone makes mistakes. In a life so full of danger and violence, of secrets and lies, how can anyone guarantee their own safety, let alone someone else’s? The guys are good at what they do, but no one can be that good, right?

Still…

“I trust you.”

And I mean it.

The three of them have done nothing but care for me ever since we came together. And based on the way they’ve all been looking at me the past couple days, they’re about to get ten times more protective.

As if they weren’t before.

Last weekend is the perfect example. When Jordan kidnapped me, I was barely even in that house for twenty-four hours. The guys did everything they could to get to me. That’s what matters. As for future dangers, we’ll deal with them as they come. As long as I’m not taken from them again, I’ll be okay.

Rhett and Oliver come into the living room, hands clasped together.

“Hey, I was thinking we could head to the museum a little early to—”

Oliver stops abruptly when he gets a better look at us. I must look like shit, because his smile fades.

“You guys okay?”

“Yeah. I just had a flashback, that’s all.”

Rhett’s expression hardens, like I shouldn’t be brushing this off. He doesn’t say anything, though.

The remnants of Oliver’s smile morph into a full-on frown.

“Did something trigger it? Or did it just happen out of the blue?”

My stomach twists. Why do I have to be such a mess? What if we get to Florida and the mere sight of the ocean makes me panic? What the hell am I going to do? “It…”

Instantly, Oliver is on his knees in front of me. Taking my hands in his, he gazes up at me and says, “It’s okay, Wren. You can tell us.”

I squeeze my eyes shut.

“I can’t look at water without thinking about drowning. I was trying to work through it, so I filled the kitchen sink with water, but it backfired and I froze up. It felt… awful.”

“She wasn’t breathing when I found her,”

Elliot adds in, tightening his arm around me.

“Princess,”

Oliver murmurs, and I hate the concern mixed with disappointment in his voice.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I was hoping it’d go away,”

I mumble, squirming in Elliot’s lap.

“Wren. Look at me.”

Grudgingly, I open my eyes, terrified that Oliver will be looking up at me with hurt and more disappointment. Instead, I find a gentle compassion shimmering in his eyes that makes my throat ache.

“It’s okay,”

he whispers.

“We’ll take it one day at a time. We’re here with you no matter what, got it?”

All I can manage is a relieved nod. They’ve had to deal with so many emotions and problems from me. How they haven’t run out of patience and understanding yet is beyond me.

“Got it,”

I say, squeezing his hands.

“What were you going to suggest, Ol?”

Elliot says.

“That we head out a little early,”

he says, not taking his sad eyes off of me.

“So we could get back for ice cream with enough time for our stomachs to settle before bed.”

“That sounds good to me.”

Elliot glances between me and Rhett, and we nod in agreement.

Oliver tugs me to my feet.

“You wanna get ready with me?”

“That sounds nice.”

“Perfect.”

He kisses both Rhett and Elliot.

“You two won’t know what to do with yourselves when we come back down.”

The thought puts a smile on my face. When Oliver dressed me to go to Evolve, Rhett and Elliot’s eyes practically bugged out of their heads when they saw us. I thought they looked hot as well, I was just too focused on the fact that I was going to the Evolve to show it.

Upstairs, Oliver stops the second his door is closed.

“Princess. Are you really okay? If you’d prefer, we can stay in and watch movies and cuddle and—”

Placing my hands on his shoulders, I cut him off with a kiss.

“I’m good, I promise.”

With the best smile I can manage, I say, “Now, tell me what you’re wearing so I can figure out what I should put on.”

Eyeing me, Oliver says, “I actually have a sweater that I think will fit you perfectly. It’s a little small on me, but I’ve kept it around for… reasons.”

He doesn’t elaborate, instead pulling me into his closet. I smile at the array of colors and variety of styles as he goes through a dresser at the back.

My gaze drifts to a dress that’s separate from all the other clothes. It’s small, a child’s dress, and it looks vintage. The blue fabric is faded, and there’s a faint stain on the skirt.

“Aha! Here it is.”

Oliver whips around, holding a forest green sweater in his hands. His eyes flick to the dress, and I realize I’m holding the material between my fingers.

I drop my arm. “Sorry.”

With a halfhearted shrug, he says, “You’re allowed to touch it.”

I don’t. I just look at it.

“Whose was it?”

“My mom’s,”

he says softly.

“And then it was my sister’s, and then she gave it to Sammy when she grew out of it.”

Oliver pauses, and I don’t miss the heartbroken look he tries to hide by running a hand over his face.

“Rhett’s dad was going to throw it out after Sammy died, so we stole it back.”

“Oh,”

I say quietly. How awful.

“I’m glad you got it.”

He nods, placing the sweater in my hands.

“Here. I can—uh. I’ll just stay in here so you can get changed.”

“Thanks.”

After earlier, I’m definitely not in the right headspace to take my clothes off in front of another person. It’s silly, the idea that a couple layers of fabric feel like armor, but I can’t help it. So I step out of the closet to take my T-shirt off.

The sweater is soft against my skin, and it fits almost perfectly. The sleeves are a bit too long, but I don’t mind. It just makes me feel cozier. Paired with my jeans, I bet I look cute.

“I’m done,”

I call, stepping in front of Oliver’s mirror. I was right—it’s a simple look, but it does look cute.

He comes up behind me, his hands on my waist. I can just see the dark shirt he has on. He left the top buttons undone, and it makes my mouth water.

Fuck, he even has his sleeves rolled up.

“Oh, that’s hot.”

It takes me a second to realize the words slipped from my mouth. I groan from embarrassment, but Oliver snickers, kissing my neck.

“Can I do your makeup, too?”

“Sure.”

With a grin, Oliver grabs my hand and pulls me into the bathroom. He lifts me onto the counter next to the sink before stepping in between my legs.

“God, I love you, princess.”

“I love you, too.”

He looks like he’s about to reach into a drawer, but he stops and embraces me instead. My body is pressed to his in as many places as possible as he captures my mouth in a kiss. His lips move against mine so softly, so tenderly, like he needs to be gentle with me or I’ll break.

Maybe that’s the case. Or maybe not. One minute, I feel like I’m the strongest woman in the world. But the next, I feel like I will break if someone even looks at me wrong. It’s a tumultuous roller coaster I can’t seem to get off of.

When Oliver pulls away, I sigh, resting my forehead against his. I’ve grown a lot as a person over the past couple years. I’ve found strength in times when I thought I’d wither away. And being with these three men has given me more determination, more resolve. I feel like I can keep growing with them.

“I’m excited to go on a date with you all,” I say.

Oliver smiles.

“Group dates are fun. So are one-on-one dates, but I think I’ll quite like having all four of us together.”

All four of us. The phrase has warmth cascading down my body from my head to my toes.

“Have you ever been to the museum?”

“Me? Nah. Rhett’s gone before, though.”

“I’ve never been either,”

I say as Oliver starts applying makeup to my cheeks.

“Ava went a couple months ago. She thinks I’ll like it.”

“Rhett thinks you will too. Was his idea.”

Oliver continues with the makeup, tilting my chin up with one hand and working with the other. He looks happy, a faint smile never fully leaving his face.

“You like doing this?”

Oliver nods.

“I do, yeah. Because I love it and because it reminds me of happy memories.”

“Oh?”

“I loved playing dress up as a kid. Used to do it with my little sister all the time. Sometimes Sammy would join in too, but she was a little younger than Maria, so they didn’t have play dates together often. My mom has a whole scrapbook of the different looks we came up with. Maybe I’ll show you sometime.”

My stomach does a little backflip at the thought of meeting his family. Then it melts at the thought of young Oliver playing with his little sister.

“I always wanted a sibling.”

“Mmm, you get a built-in sister by being with me, so I guess it’s a dream come true.”

He winks, probably because he knows he’s a dream come true all by himself.

“Maria will love you.”

Hope flares in my chest, and I sit up straighter. “Really?”

“Oh, she already does. Ever since she saw us together at the ball, she’s been bugging me to let you guys meet. Maybe we’ll take you to our next Friday lunch.”

My shoulders sag.

“Ah. I don’t think that’ll work, O. I have to go back to the coffee shop after this week. My boss is already annoyed enough.”

For a second, it looks like Oliver is about to protest. But then he sighs and shakes his head.

“Then we’ll find another time for you and Maria to meet. As long as you’re ready, that is. If you want more time before meeting the family, that’s understandable.”

“I’d like to meet her. And your mom.”

He boops me on the nose with a brush.

“Then we’ll make it happen, princess. Now close your eyes. It’s time for your eyeshadow.”

“What color are you using?”

“Same as your sweater. This stuff is super pigmented,”

he says, swiping the brush over my eyelids.

“I love it. Don’t use it a lot, though.”

“Why not?”

He laughs, a tired and almost bitter sound.

“Work-life balance is almost nonexistent when you’re trying to avenge your little sister’s death. Most of the time, our jobs require blending in, staying in the background. Not exactly conducive to wearing colorful makeup.”

“I guess not.”

“But,”

he says brightly, “it just makes it more fun when I get to. The red is my favorite.”

“That makes sense.”

“Does it now?”

I grin. Even with my eyes closed, I can imagine the smirk on Oliver’s face.

“It’s your favorite color? Dark red?”

“Someone’s observant.”

After a couple more strokes with the brush, he says, “You can open your eyes now.”

“So why forest green today?”

He shrugs, not answering, but his smirk widens.

“Oliver!”

“You’ll see,”

he says in a singsong voice.

Once he finishes with my makeup, he moves onto his. I watch as he applies it confidently, adding a little red eyeliner underneath his lower lash line. When he finishes, he puts everything away and helps me off the counter. His hands linger on my waist.

“Princess?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m really glad we have you.”

I smile, kissing him.

“I’m really glad I have you, too.”