Page 15 of Ruthless Desires, Vol. Two (Ruthless Desires Series Extended Editions #2)

Elliot

I meet everyone at the resort restaurant for our early dinner. The place isn’t too busy considering we’re in between the standard rush hours, which is good. It means there’s no one around to overhear our conversation.

“Sorry I’m late.”

As I slide into our secluded corner booth, I wince at the painful reminder of Rhett spanking me. Fuck, it hurts. After I kiss Oliver on the cheek and rest one of my hands on his thigh, I say, “Ludo and his guys didn’t get back at the time they said they would. Looked like they left immediately after I did, too.”

Rhett raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

As I look over the menu, I say, “Aubrey was chatty. Said today is the last day of training for their guy, which makes me wonder where Ludo is going to be tomorrow. As for tonight, Ludo is taking Aubrey out to meet some people.”

“Interesting.”

Oliver places his hand over mine.

“I’ve been keeping up with the feed from the bug, and I haven’t caught anything about tomorrow.”

“Has there been anything at all that might be helpful?”

Oliver shakes his head.

“No. But Ludo only hired us for three days. Starting the day after tomorrow, he’s gonna be at the condo more, right? We should be able to catch something then.”

“Hopefully.”

My tone doesn’t sound convincing. It’s very possible that we won’t get any more information out of this trip.

“I think we need to talk about the guy they’ve been training,”

Wren says. Her posture is pin straight as her eyes dart between the three of us.

“I’m pretty sure I know who he is.”

“Go on,”

Rhett says. He’s sitting in between Wren and Oliver. One of his arms is around Wren, keeping her close to him.

“Do you guys remember the nineteen-year-old I told you about? The one who Jordan almost killed because he gave me a blanket?”

We all nod.

Wren swallows nervously before continuing.

“The reason Jordan didn’t kill him is because Ludo showed up right as he was about to pull the trigger. Apparently, Ludo and Jordan were going to discuss some sort of business deal. But when Ludo saw me, he said the deal was off. Then he saw Andrew—that’s the kid—and took him when he left.”

I lean forward.

“Did Ludo say why?”

Wren shakes her head.

“He asked if Jordan knew who Andrew was, but Jordan didn’t know, and Ludo didn’t bother explaining. Do you… do you know?”

“I wish. You didn’t get a last name?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

I’m about to tell her she has no need to apologize, but Rhett speaks first.

“Hold on. Why do you think Andrew is the man Ludo’s training?”

“Aubrey said something about him being young,”

Wren explains.

“It doesn’t feel like that could be a coincidence. But I… I guess it’s just a feeling.”

“Hunches are always worth exploring, love.”

Wren nods silently. I was hoping that getting this off her chest would help her to relax, but she only looks more uptight. When our server comes by to take our orders, I’m pretty sure even they notice.

Once he’s gone, Oliver says, “Why don’t you talk about last night, princess.”

After dragging in a long breath, Wren turns to Rhett. He doesn’t look angry. In fact, he looks desperate to fix things.

“There isn’t anything left to talk about,”

he says firmly.

“There’s not?” she asks.

“We all understand why you kept it from us, right? You were afraid of how I’d react?”

Rhett makes a point of looking at all three of us, waiting until we give him confirmation to continue.

“And you’ve already promised not to keep something like this from us again, correct?”

Slowly, she nods.

“Then we’re done,”

Rhett says with finality.

“No need to go digging through it all again. I, for one, would prefer not to dwell on it.”

“No,”

Oliver says.

“No, we still need to talk.”

The fear in Wren’s eyes makes my chest ache. I never want her to be afraid of us. Ever.

“What are you doing?”

I hiss at Oliver.

He ignores me, reaching across the table and holding out his hand. Only after Wren hesitantly places her hand in his does he continue.

“I’m not angry, princess. I just need an explanation.”

“Okay,”

she whispers unsteadily.

“Why did you go swimming by yourself? You could’ve drowned, Wren.”

Oh. In the middle of everything else, I completely forgot about that.

“I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it on my own. Without a security blanket or a crutch, I guess. You guys make me feel brave. But I need to be brave on my own.”

“I understand that.”

Oliver keeps his voice calm as he rubs the back of her hand with his thumb. No doubt he’s trying to soothe her.

“But why last night? And why such a drastic change? You went from a kitchen sink to a pool. You don’t think that’s too big of a jump?”

“I…”

She falters and tries to pull her hand away, but Oliver keeps his grip firm.

“It’s because Ludo called you a coward,”

Rhett says lowly.

“Isn’t it?”

“He did what?”

By the time I realize I’m practically shouting the words, it’s too late. The few people in the restaurant glance toward us, but at Rhett’s glare, they turn away quickly.

“He noticed that I was being avoidant of water, so he told me that fear isn’t my problem, cowardice is. I didn’t want him to be right about me.”

“Wren,”

Oliver says, “his opinion of you doesn’t matter. Let him be right, let him be wrong. The only thing that’s important is that we support you. You’re allowed to take your time with this, and you’re allowed to let us help you. Please. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

After an agonizingly long moment of hesitation, Wren nods.

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

I don’t like how much Wren is apologizing, but before I can say something, our food comes. Wren barely touches her plate while we eat, which I’m beginning to realize is a common occurrence for her when she’s nervous. At some point, she excuses herself and heads for the restroom. We all watch her go.

“Was I too harsh?”

Oliver asks once she’s out of earshot.

“That wasn’t what I was trying to do.”

“You were fine.”

I reach over and squeeze his arm.

“I think she’s still feeling guilty, but that will fade.”

“She looked scared,”

Rhett says.

“I hated that,”

Oliver mumbles into his plate.

“She’ll be okay,”

I say.

“This is the first time we’ve had anything close to a fight with Wren. And it wasn’t with one of us—it was with all three of us at once. I hate fighting with either of you, but I hate fighting with both of you even more.”

“Shit.”

Oliver rubs his face.

“I didn’t even think of that. She probably feels awful.”

“It’s not your fault,”

Rhett says.

“It’s mine. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

Before they both start to spiral, I cut in.

“What matters is that we’re past it. From this point on, we need to make sure Wren feels secure in this relationship. In us. I don’t want her doubting anything, and I definitely don’t want her to be constantly afraid that we’re holding a grudge against her or something like that.”

They both agree, which puts them somewhat at ease. Out of habit, I let my gaze wander around the restaurant, making sure we aren’t being watched. Just as I’m about to turn my attention back to Oliver and Rhett, I spot Wren making her way across the room. The problem is, she’s not heading for our table.

Wren goes up to the only person sitting at the bar, a young man facing away from us. Upon seeing her, he tenses. I can’t hear their conversation, but the concern on Wren’s face is clear as day. She reaches out and touches the guy, and he winces before pulling away.

The second Wren makes eye contact with me, I’m out of the booth and on my way over to her. It’s then that I hear the man protesting.

“No, stop, you can’t—”

“Wren? Love, what’s going on?”

The man turns around on his barstool, and the second we lock eyes, I freeze. All of the air is sucked out of my lungs, and I have to blink twice to make sure I’m not seeing things.

“Ell,”

Wren says, grabbing my arm and tugging me closer.

“This is Andrew.”

“Stop,”

Andrew hisses at Wren.

“I can’t be seen here. Fuck, this was such a bad idea.”

He starts to stand, but my body miraculously starts working again, and I shove him back down onto the stool.

No way. There’s no fucking way.

“Hey! Get your hands off me, man.”

I release him, but I don’t move away. No, I just stare, taking in the details of his face and trying to put the pieces together. He’s a carbon copy of teenage Rhett. There’s only one answer for how that’s possible. I just don’t want to admit it.

“What’s your last name?”

I ask, my voice hoarse.

Andrew narrows his eyes.

“What’s it to you?”

I don’t have time for his bullshit, so I say, “Is Richard Brooks your father?”

His jaw drops, and dread pools in my stomach. No. No, no, no.

“How did you know that?”

Andrew demands. He slips from his stool and gets up in my face.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“That bastard,”

I breathe out.

“Elliot!”

Wren exclaims.

“Don’t be rude.”

That snaps me out of my shock. Grabbing Wren’s hand, I say, “I think you should come with us, Andrew. I have something to show you.”

He hesitates, but Wren gives him a pleading look, so he follows.

Seeing Wren talking to teenage Rhett is a mindfuck I wasn’t prepared for. Apparently Oliver and Rhett feel the same way, because when they see us approaching, they have similar reactions to my own. Oliver drops his fork, and his jaw goes slack. As for Rhett, he turns into a fucking statue.

“Will you please explain what’s going on?”

Wren hisses, following closely behind me.

“Not here,”

I grit out.

Once we’re at the table, Oliver stands.

“I’ll get the bill. Meet you guys upstairs?”

“Let’s go. Rhett?”

He still hasn’t moved, his eyes glued to Andrew. He’s probably thinking the same thing I am.

“I’ll bring him up with me,”

Oliver says.

“You guys go ahead.”

In the elevator, Andrew turns to Wren.

“Look, I’m glad you got out alive, but who the hell are these guys? And why does one of them look like me? Are they who Ludo was talking about before I left with him? When he said Jordan was a dead man walking? It’s because of them?”

“Yeah.”

Wren’s eyes stay trained on me as she works with the information she has. “Ell…”

The elevator dings, and the doors open. I usher them through the hallway and into the penthouse as quickly as I can.

“How did you know my father’s name?”

Andrew asks, but I ignore him, pulling up Finn’s number in my phone.

“Does Rhett have aunts? Or uncles?”

Wren asks weakly, like she already knows the answer is no.

Finn picks up quickly.

“What do you need?”

“I need some security footage deleted, mostly from the last hour.”

I explain the situation, detailing where Andrew was sitting at the bar.

“Follow us all the way up to the penthouse. Hell, make it look like we were never at the restaurant in the first place.”

“You got it.”

The line goes dead.

Shoving my phone in my pocket, I turn back to Andrew. He’s sweating, his eyes darting all over the penthouse like he’s looking for a place to escape or hide. The lighting in the restaurant was dim, but looking at him now, I can’t help but grimace. The kid is covered in cuts and bruises.

“Are you working for Ludo?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Are you—”

Andrew gulps.

“Are you going to tell him about this? Please, I was just bored. All I was gonna do was have one drink, and then I was gonna go back. I promise.”

“Go back?”

Wren prods.

“To my—to my hotel room. I’m not supposed to leave without supervision. Oh fuck, I’m begging you. Please don’t tell him. I need his help, I can’t mess this up.”

Before answering, I give myself a split second to think things over. It seems that Andrew thinks we have more knowledge and association with Ludo than we actually do. I’m not sure I want to tear down that fa?ade yet.

“We’ll talk about that later,”

I say slowly.

“For now, we have some other questions for you.”

Andrew nods anxiously.

The door to the penthouse opens, and Rhett and Oliver file in. Rhett’s expression is still shuttered, and Oliver gives me a worried glance.

“Can someone explain what’s going on?”

Wren asks.

“I’d like that, too,”

Oliver says as he eyes Andrew suspiciously.

“Princess, how do you know him? Or did you just recognize him because…”

He waves a hand between Andrew and Rhett.

“This is Andrew,”

I say, gesturing to him.

“Richard Brooks’ second son. That we know of, I suppose. Andrew, meet your older brother.”

I point to Rhett.

Considering the shitshow that the past couple days have been, my expectation is for Rhett to yell. To get angry, to storm off, to take it out on anyone. He’s gotten much better at managing his anger, but not in a situation like this.

I suppose that’s why we’re all taken aback when Rhett does the exact opposite. Pity, or maybe sympathy, ripples across his face before he says softly, “I’m so sorry.”

For a second, Andrew just stares at his older brother. Then he scoffs.

“Sorry? That’s it? You’re fucking sorry?”

Rhett’s brows pull together. “What—”

“You left me with that bastard, and all you have to say for yourself is sorry?”

Andrew yells.

“What, no, I—”

“How could you do that?”

Andrew advances toward him.

“How could you do fucking nothing?”

At the last second, Wren slips in between the two of them. “Stop!”

She shoves Andrew back before he’s close enough to Rhett to do any damage.

“Stop, it’s not what you think.”

Rhett tries to push her out of the way without being too forceful.

“Sweetheart, don’t—”

Wren bats Rhett’s hand away, keeping her focus on Andrew.

“Rhett is twenty-eight.”

Andrew rolls his eyes. “So?”

“There’s only a nine-year difference between you two. Don’t you think you’d remember your childhoods overlapping?”

The anger slowly fades from Andrew’s eyes. “Oh.”

Rhett pulls Wren back and tucks her into his side. That way he has a hold on her if she tries to get in between them again.

“I didn’t know you existed until a couple minutes ago.”

“Right,”

Andrew mumbles. “Sorry.”

“I would’ve gotten you out of there if I’d known,”

Rhett says.

“I would’ve found a way.”

“Trust me, I know what you mean,”

Andrew says darkly. His expression matches one Rhett wears often, and it’s uncanny and unsettling.

This is going to take a long time to get used to.

“What the hell are you doing working for Ludo?”

Rhett asks.

“You have no idea—”

“Rhett,”

I cut in, holding up a hand. He immediately understands what I’m trying to say—keep all our cards hidden—because he doesn’t continue.

“I have to,”

Andrew says.

“He’s the only way I can get my—our—little brother away from Dad.”

Rhett looks like he’s about to keel over.

“Little brother?”

“Oh, Jesus fuck,”

Oliver says under his breath.

“Yeah. And Ludo is my only hope for getting Benny away from Dad, so—”

“Oh, he most certainly is not the only option,”

Rhett snaps.

“Well, he’s the best one,”

Andrew says with an ironic amount of confidence.

“Ludo already took him in. It’s part of our agreement.”

My heart sinks. None of this sounds good. It makes one thing make sense, though—the child Ludo was talking about the other day.

With every second, Rhett looks worse and worse. Wren leads him to one of the couches and has him sit down. For once, he doesn’t protest. Probably because he’s too numb to try.

I attempt to figure out our best move. We can’t let Andrew know we don’t trust Ludo—that could lead to disaster. But what are we supposed to do from here?

Andrew’s gaze flicks to the door.

“Look, I should really get back. I shouldn’t be out of my hotel room. If someone comes and checks on me—”

“No one’s going to,”

Oliver says.

“Ludo and his bodyguards aren’t even on the resort property right now. It’s just us.”

I start pacing, moving myself in between Andrew and the front door. We’re not done yet, and I’m in no mood to chase him through the hotel if he tries to run.

“Tell us more about this agreement you have with Ludo.”

Andrew narrows his eyes.

“Why should I tell you anything? Actually, what the fuck do any of you even want with me? Yeah, I’m Rhett’s brother, so what? That doesn’t mean my life is any of your business.”

Dropping his head into his hands, Rhett lets out a distressed sound.

“You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“That’s enough, Rhett,”

I say. Family or not, we can’t trust Andrew with any part of ourselves—especially our past.

“I know exactly what I’ve gotten myself into.”

With enough fire to set the whole resort ablaze, Andrew casts Rhett a glare.

“Now let me leave. I shouldn’t be up here anyway.”

“Can’t do that,”

I say.

“Not until you give us some answers.”

“I don’t owe you anything,”

Andrew bites out. His eyes are lit up with fury, and he looks and sounds so similar to the younger version of Rhett that my heart snaps in two.

What’s this kid been through?

“Ell,”

Wren says, standing and coming toward me.

“Maybe we should give everyone some time to process. This is a lot for all of us.”

“No. This happens now.”

This may be our last chance to get Andrew alone. We can’t waste it.

Oliver takes Wren’s spot on the couch. Hesitantly, he places a hand on Rhett’s arm, slipping it around his shoulder when Rhett leans into his touch. They start murmuring to each other, quietly enough that no one else can hear.

Andrew protests, spouting something about how we can’t keep him here. I barely pay him any attention. Rhett is shaking his head, and it looks like he’s struggling to get in enough air.

Did I make the wrong call? Should we let him go?

“Hey!”

Andrew shouts.

“I’m talking to you. Either let me go, or I’ll force my way out.”

Wren slides herself in between me and Andrew, holding her hands up.

“No, Andrew, don’t—”

When I look back at him, it’s already too late. The knife is flying through the air, catching the late afternoon light as it spins straight for us. On instinct, I grab Wren and pull her out of the way. But the knife is moving too fast, and my reaction is a second too slow.

Since she still has her hands up to protect herself, the knife doesn’t make it past her arms. She gasps at the pain before the blade clatters to the floor, nicking my forearm as it does.

Andrew tries to bolt past us toward the door, but Oliver jumps to his feet and grabs him by the back of his neck. Rhett follows quickly and throws Andrew to the ground. Before Andrew can scramble away, Rhett is on top of him with both hands around his neck.

“You picked the wrong family to fuck with, kid,”

Rhett growls.

Ignoring the sting from my own cut, I grab Wren’s arm.

“Love. Love, I’m so sorry. Fuck, you’re bleeding.”

“It’s not that bad.”

Her voice is tight, and she clings to me while she watches Rhett and Andrew.

“Let me see.”

As I inspect the cut, I hold her wrist gingerly. Blood flows across her skin, and some drips to the floor.

This shouldn’t’ve happened. I never should’ve taken my eyes off Andrew.

Thankfully, Wren’s cut isn’t too deep. I’m about to usher her to the bathroom to clean it when I hear Oliver say behind me, “You have to let up, Rhett.”

I whip around to see Rhett still strangling Andrew. His face is hardened with fury, and I can’t even blame him.

“Please,”

Andrew wheezes.

“Please don’t.”

“Rhett,”

Oliver snaps, shaking his shoulder. “Stop.”

For a second, I think we’ll have to physically haul Rhett off his brother, but he removes his hands. Andrew gasps and coughs before trying to squirm out from underneath Rhett. It’s a pointless move.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

Rhett barks. He grabs Andrew’s wrists and pins them to the floor.

“That we’d let you go after that?”

“Just let me up.”

Andrew’s voice is raspy and forced.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

Rhett shouts, making Wren jump.

“Don’t fucking lie to me. You were aiming to kill.”

Someone needs to calm him down before this escalates even further. Neither of us are at a risk of bleeding out, so I push Wren into Oliver’s arms and crouch down next to Rhett.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill him,”

Rhett says darkly. He keeps his glare on Andrew, so potent that even I can feel it.

“You already know why.”

Rhett works his jaw as I watch the internal battle play out across his face. Finally, he releases Andrew and gets up.

“Don’t touch him. Don’t fucking touch any of them, or I’ll slit your throat and watch you writhe on the floor as you bleed out and struggle for your life. You got it, kid?”

Scrambling to his feet, Andrew snaps, “I’m not a fucking kid.”

“You’re sure acting like one,”

Rhett growls.

“Hey, that’s enough,”

I say, pushing Rhett farther from Andrew and staying in between them.

“We did some stupid shit when we were nineteen, too. Of course he’s acting a little green. He is green.”

It takes a second, but Rhett takes a deep breath.

“Right. Do you need to check on Wren? We’re fine here.”

“Like hell we are,”

Andrew grouses.

Glancing around, I realize Oliver and Wren have disappeared.

“Yeah, I want to make sure she’s okay. Andrew, I know this isn’t what you want, but you’ve gotta deal with it. If you try to fight your way out of here again, I won’t stop Rhett from doing whatever he wants to you.”

Not true. But obviously Andrew isn’t going to cooperate voluntarily.

With a huff, Andrew throws himself onto the couch and crosses his arms. He’s pouting like a five-year-old, but I don’t have time to dwell on it. I’m already halfway out of the room, praying Rhett can find the willpower to control himself.

In the bathroom, Wren is sitting on the counter, and Oliver is gently dabbing at her cut with a cotton ball. Disinfectant and bandages litter the area next to the sink.

“I’ve got it.”

The way I say it holds no room for discussion, so Oliver moves out of my way. He touches my arm, right above my own cut.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine. I’ll deal with it in a minute. Can you make sure Rhett doesn’t hurt Andrew too much?”

As Oliver leaves, his hand trails across my back, but I barely feel it. My only focus is on Wren.

She attempts a wobbly smile.

“I’m okay, Ell. The cut isn’t that deep.”

I step in between her legs and grab onto her waist to hide the way my hands are shaking. Seeing that knife flying toward her—realizing I didn’t have enough time to get her out of the way—fuck. I can count on one hand the amount of times I’ve felt that mind-numbing, no-thoughts-just-act kind of panic.

My eyes lock onto hers.

“Never again, Wren.”

“What?”

“Don’t you ever put yourself in harm’s way to protect me. If one of us is going to get hurt, it’s going to be me. Every goddamn time. You got it?”

“Ell—”

“No, I mean it. I never want to see a weapon aimed at you when it should be pointed at me. Never step in front of me like that again.”

She tilts her head down and stays silent.

“Wren. Promise me.”

“I can’t,”

she whispers.

“You can,”

I grit out, “and you fucking will.”

She shakes her head.

“Why not?”

I demand, fighting the urge to shake her until she sees some sense.

“Because I can’t bear the thought of seeing you hurt!”

She pokes her finger into my chest.

“You don’t like seeing a weapon pointed at me? I don’t like seeing a weapon pointed at you! How am I supposed to stand by and just watch you get hurt? Or die? Fuck, Ell, I love you too much to do that. I know it’s scary—I was terrified. But I was more scared of losing you than I was of getting hurt.”

My heart fucking stops. I don’t even think she realizes she said it. I stare at her, waiting for it to register, but it doesn’t.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks.

“Like what?”

“Like… like you’re afraid but also happy.”

I hesitate, willing my heart to stop pounding wildly, but my pulse only races more. Leaning down, I keep my eyes locked on hers and whisper, “Because I love you, too.”

Her lips part from a mixture of shock and realization. When she releases a breathy, “Oh,”

and slowly blinks, I think that means her mind has caught up with what she said.

Moving my hands from her waist, I hold her face gently and kiss her. Her arms wrap around my neck, and there’s something about the way she does it that has goosebumps spreading across my skin.

This isn’t how I imagined telling her. I’ve had some sort of plan forming in the back of my mind—because I plan everything—but I didn’t think it’d happen this fast. With her and Oliver, it makes sense that they said it so quickly. Both of them wear their hearts on their sleeves. But I didn’t realize I was ready to say it to her until I heard the words leave her mouth.

Reluctantly, I pull away. I never want to stop, but I need to finish cleaning her cut. When she looks at me, there’s a glimmer of happiness in her eyes that fills my heart with hope. She’s still not fully back, but it’s a step closer.

“Elliot…”

She sounds out of breath. Maybe a touch disoriented, too. That doesn’t stop her from tugging me down for another kiss. I let her, too caught up in the moment to stop.

I can’t believe I said it this fast. But I can’t imagine holding it back any longer.

This time, Wren pulls away to gulp in air. A slow smile creeps across her face.

“I can’t believe I said it without realizing.”

“It’s on brand for you.”

With a chuckle, I give her one last kiss.

“Now let’s get this cut bandaged up.”

As I finish cleaning her cut, she winces. If I could, I’d take the pain and bear it myself. That knife never should’ve touched her.

“I thought he’d stop,”

she murmurs as I stick the bandage to her skin.

“I thought if he knew he’d hurt me, he wouldn’t throw it.”

“I know, love. I know.”

She shifts restlessly, her eyes filled to the brim with worry.

“Ludo has to know they’re related. That must’ve been what he meant when he asked Jordan if he knew who Andrew was.”

“Seems like it.”

“Why would he know that?”

“I’m not sure.”

I have one possible answer, I’m just afraid to admit it. But regardless, many other aspects of Ludo’s plan are coming together, and the picture is far from pretty.

Ludo getting friendly with Philly’s judges. Him testing our loyalty yesterday. And him keeping Rhett’s younger brother as a backup plan.

Wren stares up at me anxiously.

“This isn’t good, is it?”

In this family, we don’t lie to each other. Even though the truth is going to stress Wren out, I refuse to keep her in the dark. So I stroke her hair, hoping she’ll find some semblance of comfort in the gesture, while I say, “No. No, not at all.”