Page 12 of Ruthless Desires, Vol. Two (Ruthless Desires Series Extended Editions #2)

Rhett

Murder probably isn’t the best thing to think about to get myself to relax. Somehow, though, it’s the thing that helps the most often. Fantasizing about standing over Ludo’s limp, tortured, unmoving body is one of the only things that can calm the constant fury stirring in my chest.

There are other things that help, of course. Being with Elliot, Oliver, and Wren is the best thing. But right now, the penthouse is dead quiet. Everyone’s asleep, which means if I don’t distract myself, I’ll end up going off the deep end.

As I lie in bed, killing Ludo is where my mind defaults to. I’ve done this so many nights it’s practically habit. But tonight, not even thoughts of avenging Sammy are enough to bring me peace.

Gently, I move my hand under the covers until I find Wren’s arm. She’s out cold, so I don’t want to move her too much, but I doubt just touching her a little will wake her up.

Since thoughts of killing Ludo aren’t enough to get me to sleep, I try to think of the future. Normally that scares me—I’ve put little thought into what life will be like once we have our revenge. But tonight, I try to think of the happy things.

Everyone will be less stressed. Maybe I’ll be able to work through my aversions more. I’d like to be able to accept every hug or little touch that comes my way. I’d like to say I love you more often. Fuck, that’d be nice.

I’m not sure how long I lie in bed for, but sleep doesn’t come. I keep perfectly still, trying to trick my body into drifting off, but it doesn’t work. Just as I’m about to give up, grab my laptop, and move into the living room, Wren’s breathing changes.

At first, she inhales sharply, which is usually a telltale sign that she’s having a nightmare. But then she groans and sits up. For a second, she doesn’t move. Then she grabs her phone from the nightstand and checks the time.

When she gets up quietly, I assume she’s going to the bathroom, but she starts going through her bag. She slips out of her T-shirt, and I avert my eyes until she’s done changing. Maybe she’s cold so she’s putting something warmer on.

“You’re not a coward,”

she mutters to herself.

“It’s time to stop acting like one.”

Footsteps sound, and I realize she’s not coming back to bed. I almost call out to ask her where she’s going, but I stop myself. During my teen years, I did my fair share of sneaking out. If I was caught, I never would’ve admitted to what I was doing. Best to follow her.

When Wren opens the bedroom door, I swear under my breath. She must think I’m asleep. But still, why is she leaving like this? Where is she going? It doesn’t make sense.

Once she shuts the door, I get out of bed. There’s no way in hell I’m letting her get far by herself. I throw on some clothes, gritting my teeth when I hear the hallway door close. She should know better than to go out alone.

I stay in the penthouse until I hear the elevator open and close. Only then do I slip outside and hit the downward button. I keep an eye on the floor indicator for Wren’s elevator, watching the number descend until it hits the ground floor.

What the hell is she thinking?

One of the elevator doors opens, and I hurry inside, hitting the button to take me to the lobby. The thing takes forever to get down, and when I step out onto the ground floor, Wren is already gone.

Fuck. Fuck! Where could she have gone?

Just then, I hear a door close. Peering down a hallway in that direction, I catch her through the door’s window. She’s outside now—in the pool area.

Dread fills me as I rush down the hallway. Wren is just in my view, setting a towel on one of the chaise lounge chairs. She pulls her dress off, revealing a bikini underneath.

Despite this being a god-awful idea, I can’t help but drink in the way the moonlight illuminates her body. She couldn’t be more beautiful if she tried.

When Wren starts heading toward the pool, I move outside, closing the door slowly so she doesn’t hear it. The stairs into the water are on the far side, and I watch her pause at the top. Her hand is gripping the railing tightly.

She said upstairs that she’s not a coward. Is this because of what Ludo said to her? Did he say something else today that set her off?

I stay in the shadows where she can’t see me. However much I want to stop her, I won’t. Only Wren can be the judge of what’s pushing herself too far. This is her decision—even if I think it’s a stupid one.

“You can do it,”

I hear her say. She’s staring into the illuminated pool, still standing at the top of the steps.

“You’re not a coward, dammit.”

Hesitantly, she steps into the water. She squeezes her eyes shut and takes a deep breath before moving down another step. Both of her hands are on the railing, grasping at the pole like she’ll drown instantly if she lets go.

I keep my eyes trained sharply on Wren. I’ve seen what happens to Oliver when his anxiety overtakes him. If Wren starts panicking in the pool, it’s likely she’ll lose control and drown. I need to be able to pull her out of the water as quickly as possible.

Odds are, she’ll feel a lot safer if she knows she’s not alone. But she obviously wants to do this by herself. I don’t want to make myself known unless I absolutely have to.

For a second, it looks like Wren is going to back out of the pool. But then she takes a steadying breath and moves down the stairs until she’s touching the bottom. It’s just the shallow end, so Wren’s head is far above the water, but she’s still clutching onto the end of the railing.

She stands frozen before taking a step into the pool. Her hands fall from the railing. Another step. Then another.

She stops, looking around.

“See, it’s not so bad. Not scary at all. Not… not… fuck.”

Her voice breaks, and she rubs at her face with her shaking hands. The next couple breaths she takes are choppy and uneven, but then she’s able to get it together.

“Just don’t think about that. Think about… think about… them.”

Her voice softens on the last word.

It takes a minute, but she manages to avoid whatever breakdown was about to happen. She walks stiffly to the edge of the pool, where she grabs onto the side and slowly lowers herself down. But when she gets to the point where her shoulders are immersed, she stops.

Wren is facing away from me, so I can’t see her expression, but the tension in her body is enough of an indicator.

“This was a bad idea,”

she squeaks out. Then she’s moving toward the stairs, retreating from her fears, and I can’t even blame her.

We should’ve offered to do this with her. We should’ve been more supportive.

As I watch her ascend the steps, I can’t help but think that I’m still ridiculously proud of her. How many times did Jordan shove her head under water and hold her there? And how many of those times did Wren think she’d never take another breath?

Fuck. We should’ve tortured him for longer.

Wren is over by her stuff now, her towel in her hands. But she’s just standing there, dripping wet, staring down at it.

“Goddammit,”

she hisses out.

“Wren Marie Taylor, you know how to swim. For fuck’s sake.”

With a newfound fervor, Wren throws her towel back onto the lounge chair and marches over to the deep end of the pool. She doesn’t even pause—just jumps in.

Panic sears through my veins, and I’m already kicking off my shoes when she surfaces with a gasp. She pushes her hair out of her face and lets out a victorious laugh. Then she dives under the water again, swimming toward the bottom before coming up for air.

With a breath of relief, I slide my shoes back on. She’s fine. She’s doing it. Fuck, she’s okay.

Just as Wren is gaining her bearings, a shadowed figure steps up to the far edge of the pool. It’s dark, but I’d recognize that red leather jacket anywhere.

“Not a coward, I see,”

Ludo says, slipping his hands into his pants pockets. As he looks down at Wren, the pool lights illuminate his face. The way he’s looking at her has all my panic flooding back, but I stay hidden.

“Ludo,”

Wren says, meeting his gaze.

To her credit, her voice is only a tiny bit surprised. She stays in the middle of the deep end, treading water. The other options are moving closer to him, which I highly doubt she wants to do, or moving farther away. And with a man like Ludo, backing away from him is a terrible idea. The man can practically smell fear.

“You know,”

Ludo says, crouching down and clasping his hands in front of him, “you’re a smart little thing. You kept your mouth shut about my visit, didn’t you?”

What?

Wren stays silent.

Ludo laughs.

“I was expecting your men to say something. Demand answers. Anything.”

He shrugs.

“But to my surprise, they never asked. And when I hired them for this job, my suspicions were confirmed. You never told them I could’ve saved you.”

“Based on my limited knowledge of your character, the thought of helping me probably never even crossed your mind,”

Wren says dryly.

“Smart woman,”

Ludo replies. The grin that creeps onto his face is more predatory than amused. It’s all teeth and dead eyes.

“I can see why they’re all attracted to you.”

Wren ignores his latter comment.

“You don’t want them to trust you? It was a perfect opportunity. Save me from Jordan, earn their gratitude.”

At that, Ludo laughs. It’s a sound that’s haunted me since the first time I heard it.

“Oh, Wren,”

he drawls, “why would I grovel for their trust when they’re already so willing to do whatever I ask? Besides—I’m far from trustworthy, and you’d do well to learn that sooner than later.”

She doesn’t respond, just nods silently.

If they say anything else, I miss it. The chaotic clamor of my thoughts drowns out the world around me.

He was there. He was there, and he could’ve gotten her out sooner.

But the bastard didn’t. He was going to let her die.

And she didn’t even tell us.

My mind is going a mile a minute trying to think of a reasonable explanation. Something, anything. But I come up short.

She lied.

She fucking lied to us.

I’m already working through the different ways I can cause Ludo pain. What I can do tonight, or tomorrow. After this, I can’t wait any longer. He’s caused too much damage, put my family in danger one too many times.

I’m going to kill him.

Ludo walks away, whistling to himself, and Wren shudders in the water. Only once he’s out of the pool area does she move to the edge of the pool and hoist herself out of the water. She pads over to her stuff, glancing in his direction warily.

Stiffly, Wren dries off and puts her dress back on. After she gathers her stuff in her arms, she starts heading back inside.

She doesn’t make it, though. I step out of my hiding place, crossing my arms and blocking her path. Wren gasps, stumbling backward.

“Rhett?”

As she takes me in, she doesn’t relax. And why would she when I know my face is clouded over with a thousand different emotions.

“Rhett, I…”

My voice is gruff, and there’s no mistaking the anger in it as I say, “You’ve got some explaining to do, sweetheart.”