Page 72 of Ruthless Desires, Vol. Two (Ruthless Desires Series Extended Editions #2)

Wren

Upstairs, Benny and Andrew are in the kitchen eating. Well, Andrew is eating, and Benny is holding a sandwich while talking to Oliver, who’s trying to do the dishes.

“You’re sure there aren’t any secret tunnels? Old houses always have secret tunnels.”

With a chuckle, Oliver turns the water off.

“You know, we’ve checked, but maybe we missed them. We’ve got some stuff to do today, but I’m sure we can fit in some exploration time.”

I smile. I’ve always figured that Oliver would be good with kids, and it looks like I’m right. Aside from Rhett, Benny is warming up to him the fastest.

Hearing us come in, Benny spins around and immediately dashes to Rhett’s side.

“Do you want to look for tunnels with us?”

“Sure, but let’s wait until after lunch. Like Oliver said, we’ve got some stuff to do today.”

“What stuff?”

Benny asks. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, his eyes tracking Rhett’s every movement.

Elliot sighs.

“Grocery shopping, for one. We’ve gotta get some food. And… just some work stuff,”

he finishes.

I’m assuming that work stuff means Ludo’s first torture session.

“I can handle the groceries,”

Rhett says, his fingers brushing down my arm.

“You want to come with me?”

“Yeah, sure. Do you think we could stop by my apartment to get my jacket? It’s too warm for my winter coat.”

He nods.

“We can grab whatever you need.”

Benny’s eyes zero in on Rhett.

“Can I come?”

Shaking his head, Rhett squeezes his shoulder.

“Not unless you want me to go to prison for kidnapping. You can’t go out in public yet.”

“Right,”

he says, his posture slumping.

“We can do something when we get back. Looking for tunnels, exploring the woods, whatever you want.”

“All right.”

Benny is trying not to sound too disappointed, but it’s not really working.

And honestly, it’s understandable. Not only has his whole life completely changed in the past month, but now he’s stuck in a huge house with nothing to do.

Well, that’s not quite true.

“I heard you like reading,” I say.

He nods.

“Do you want to take a look at my books before we go? I have a lot of fantasy.”

“Oh, yes please!”

I turn to Rhett.

“We’ll just be a couple minutes.”

The smile on his face takes me by surprise. It’s full and bright—brighter than I’ve ever seen it.

“Take your time,”

he says, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to my lips.

“We’ve got all day.”

Andrew follows us up, although I’m not sure why. Maybe because he doesn’t want to get stuck in an awkward conversation with the guys. Or maybe because he wants something to read, too.

In my room, I pick out a few books that are targeted toward younger readers. Benny’s eyes widen at the art on the covers, and he immediately grabs them and starts reading the backs.

“Can I take this series? I’ve been wanting to read it for months.”

“Take as many as you want. Just be careful with them, please.”

“I will be, I promise.”

Benny looks up at me and grins, hugging the books to his chest.

“Thank you.”

He runs off, probably to find a cozy chair to curl up in. Andrew hesitates to follow, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“You want a book, too?”

“No, I…”

He shifts uncomfortably before looking up to meet my gaze.

“I guess I wanted to apologize.”

“You guess?”

I do my best to keep the malice out of my voice, but it only helps so much.

Sure, I’m the one who got caught. But if Andrew had kept his damn mouth shut, the past few weeks would’ve unfolded very differently. The guys wouldn’t’ve been captured, and my heart wouldn’t feel like it’s been trampled on.

“No,”

Andrew says.

“I… I am sorry. I never should’ve trusted Ludo, and I never should’ve told him I saw you go into the billiard room.”

“You almost got all of us killed.”

This time, I’m actually able to keep the anger out of my tone. I want Andrew to learn from this—to grow. Lecturing him won’t help, but he needs to understand what he did.

“I know. If I could take it back, I would.”

For a moment, we stand in silence. I’m not sure I can forgive him yet, especially since I don’t even know most of what happened while the guys were locked in Ludo’s mansion. From the looks of things, I’m not sure I ever will. However Oliver got those bruises, I don’t think he wants to talk about it.

Maybe one day, I can forgive Andrew. Maybe once Holloway is dead and the pain has faded. But for now, when everything is so fresh, when my mind is still terrified I’ll lose the guys again… I just can’t.

“Apology accepted,”

I manage, and I mean it. I can acknowledge that he’s sorry without forgiving him.

“Thank you,”

he mumbles.

“I’ll… I’ll go.”

I give him a minute’s head start before grabbing a sweater and heading down. Part of me wonders if I’m being too harsh on Andrew. He’s young, and it’s not his fault that Ludo manipulated him. In a way, he’s a victim here, too.

That doesn’t excuse what he did, the angry, hurt side of me roars.

But no one ever taught him any better, the softer, more understanding side reminds me.

I shove both thoughts away as I walk through the kitchen to where Rhett is waiting for me in the mudroom. He seems more relaxed, which I’m grateful for. Considering Ludo is here, so close to us, I was expecting Rhett to be on edge constantly. Instead, he seems relieved.

Grabbing my hand, he pulls me in for a quick kiss before we head into the garage. Every small touch brings me closer to stability, to trusting my own eyes and ears.

They’re not going anywhere, my mind whispers. Ludo will never hurt us again.

***

Grocery shopping with Rhett is… nice. Before they were taken, we were just starting to figure out where to include me in things like chores. The guys already had a pretty established routine, but adding me wasn’t too much trouble.

Still, I’ve never gone grocery shopping with one of them. Maybe it’s silly that something as mundane as wandering through the store excites me, but it feels significant.

I’m also just happy to be doing anything with Rhett. I missed all of them so much, and my mind played out worst-case scenarios almost constantly. Getting to do the small life things, like grocery shopping or cleaning, were some of the things I realized we may never get to do together.

As we check out, Rhett watches me quietly. His gaze is as piercing as always, and not for the first time, I wonder if he can read my mind.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so excited to be in a grocery store,” he says.

Laughing, I load our bagged-up groceries back into the cart.

“I’m just happy to have you back, that’s all.”

He catches my hand, holding it for a split second before letting go.

“I’m glad to be back, sweetheart.”

In the parking lot, we load everything into the backseat. We have a cooler to put the cold foods in since the drive is long, and everything fits inside perfectly.

“Do you think Benny will want to go back to living with Corinne?”

I ask once we’re heading toward my apartment.

“You know, once Richard is dead?”

“I think so. Apparently, she’s pretty okay when Richard isn’t influencing her. I’d give almost anything to have more time with my mom.”

Rhett’s voice falters, and he takes a breath before continuing.

“I know it’s not the same, but I can’t imagine Benny wants to be separated from her. I think he just wanted to get away from Richard.”

Slowly, I nod. It makes sense. When my mom and I lived with my grandma, she wasn’t nearly as nasty toward me. It was only after she got together with Thomas that things changed.

I think Patricia always resented me some—she didn’t want to get pregnant, and she lost my dad because of me. When Thomas came along, he reminded her of the life she could’ve had. He made it seem attainable again, except that I still existed. I was a constant burden to her, and he had no problem reminding me of that.

Still, before Thomas came along, I never would’ve wanted to be without her. That’s different now, of course. Even if something happened to him and I got the chance to rebuild with Patricia, I don’t think I would. We’ve changed too much. At this point, she’s broken my trust so thoroughly that no amount of apologizing would ever be enough.

“You okay?”

One of Rhett’s hands drops from the steering wheel, covering my own where it’s resting on his thigh.

“You went somewhere else for a bit.”

“I was just thinking about my mom,”

I say softly, shaking my head to clear my thoughts.

“Will you ever tell Benny the truth about Richard’s death? That it wasn’t suicide?”

“Once he’s older,”

Rhett replies.

“As long as he turns out okay, that is, but he will. I’ll make sure of it.”

“How will that work?”

“I’m not sure, honestly. My plan is to use Richard’s death as an excuse to insert myself into the family. Like, I saw his obituary by chance, and it made me realize he had another family. I’ll give them some time to adjust to being back, of course.

“Then I’ll just… show up, I guess. I’m not sure what Corinne thinks of me, and she might not want to let me get close to the boys. They’ll have to pretend they don’t know who I am, but as long as they express that they want to get to know me, I’m hoping she’ll give in.”

“Maybe she’ll want to let you into their lives,”

I say.

“Even if it’s just because she’ll feel bad for the boys because they just lost their father.”

“I’m hoping that’s her thought process.”

Rhett presses his lips together, like he’s unsure if he should go on, but then he sighs.

“If she’s not welcoming, I’m not sure I’ll care, though. I’ve already lost one sibling. I’m not losing two more.”

“You won’t,”

I tell him.

“They’ll fight for you, too. I’ve barely spent time with Benny, but it’s obvious he adores you. Andrew… I think he’s trying.”

Rhett sighs.

“I don’t know what to do with him.”

“I think the only thing you really can do is give him time,”

I say quietly.

“I’m not sure what to think of him, but I know what it’s like to be manipulated, and so do you. He almost ruined us, and some days when I was all alone with Finn, I hated him. But you’ve said it yourself. He’s still a kid.”

“He is,”

Rhett replies, his expression pensive as he turns into the parking lot of my apartment building.

Gently, I squeeze his thigh.

“I can’t say I like him, but I’m not discounting him as a person, either. He’ll have to earn my trust, but…”

“Trust goes both ways,”

Rhett finishes for me.

I nod. To give Andrew a chance, we need to show that he can give us a chance, too. Sure, we got him and Benny away from Ludo, but Andrew doesn’t fully know our intentions. As far as I know, he’s still entirely unaware that Holloway is the reason Sammy is dead.

Just as Rhett pulls into a parking spot, his phone rings.

“It’s Finn,”

he says with a frown.

“I have to take this.”

Unbuckling my seatbelt, I lean over the console and kiss his cheek. This is a conversation we don’t want anyone to overhear.

“I’ll just run up real quick. Be back in a couple minutes.”

He nods, taking the call and pressing his phone to his ear.

It feels weird being back in my apartment building. In the elevator, I twist my keys around their ring. I feel like a completely different person than who I was the last time I was here.

I frown. The last time I was here.

At some point, I slowly began to remember the events of my kidnapping. There was a man—his face is still a blur—and then I cut him with a knife, but it wasn’t enough.

I gulp, wondering if there’s still blood in the kitchen. Will being in the apartment freak me out? God, I hope not. I have enough shit haunting me as it is.

Still, my steps are slow as I walk down the hallway to my apartment. I’m half hoping Rhett will catch up with me, even though I know his conversation with Finn will probably take a while.

You’re fine, I chide myself. You can handle this.

And I can. After all I’ve been through in the past couple months, walking into my apartment will be child’s play.

I insert the key into the lock and turn it, taking one last deep breath before pushing it open. Instantly, I freeze.

The lights are on. Fresh fruit sits on the kitchen counter, unfamiliar shoes are by the door, and one of the windows is slightly open.

My mom stands from the couch, quickly followed by Thomas. My chest squeezes as I grip the doorframe. I think it’s the only thing keeping me upright.

“Mom? What’re you doing here? And why…”

My gaze flicks to Thomas.

“Why is he here?”

“You haven’t answered your phone in weeks!”

She rounds the couch, her arms wide open as she steps toward me.

Does she actually think I want to hug her? I knock her arms away once she’s close enough.

“Seriously?”

she asks. She sounds hurt, but I can’t find it in me to care.

“What’re you doing here?”

I ask again.

“In my apartment.”

“How else was I supposed to make sure you were okay?”

she asks.

“You haven’t been answering my calls, and when I went to the coffee shop, your coworker told me you quit! This was the only way I knew how to contact you.”

My fingernails dig into the wood of the doorframe.

“How long have you been staying here?”

My mom glances at Thomas.

“About a week?”

“And why is he here?”

I grit out.

At that, Thomas steps forward. He raises himself to his full height and crosses his arms over his chest—his go-to intimidation tactic.

“Am I not allowed to be worried about my daughter?”

“Stepdaughter,”

I snap.

“And you can be worried from afar. Get the fuck out of my apartment.”

“Not until you talk to your mother.”

He makes his voice deeper than it usually is.

“You’ve been disrespectful enough.”

“I’ve been disrespectful? I’ll treat her with respect when she stops trampling over my boundaries. Now get out.”

“No.”

Thomas steps forward and yanks me into the apartment.

“You need to—fuck!”

I kick him in the shins as hard as I can, jerking my arm free of his grasp.

“Wren!”

Patricia gasps.

“Don’t hurt him!”

Fury flares inside me, bright and white-hot. Even now, after he’s the one who made things physical, my mom still sees me as the one in the wrong. I barely have time to dwell on it.

Thomas straightens, the pain on his features morphing into anger.

“You little—”

He reaches for me, and I’m just able to twist out of his reach. I grab a photo frame and fling it at his face. This is different than the sessions with Rhett in the gym. Everything is moving faster, and panicked thoughts are racing through my head.

The look in his eyes—it’s the same one they held right before he threw me down the stairs all those years ago.

You’ve killed two men, I remind myself. You can handle your stepfather.

But Thomas is advancing toward me fast, his hand curled into a fist. The only reason I was able to kill those men is because I took one by surprise and the other was restrained.

So I do the only thing I can—I run. I’ve always been fast on my feet, and I have to hope that Thomas’s age has gotten the better of him. I dash down the hallway, hearing Thomas’s footsteps pounding behind me.

“Wren,”

my mom cries from the doorway.

“Stop! He won’t hurt you.”

But it’s a lie—a lie she’s been telling herself for far too many years.

I don’t have time to wait for the elevator, so I shove the stairwell door open and dive down the stairs. Thomas is right behind me—gaining on me, I think—but I don’t dare look back.

My panic rises at being in the stairwell with Thomas again. My entire body is screaming at me that this is a bad idea, but what else am I supposed to do?

I reach the first landing and barrel toward the next flight of stairs. But just as I’m about to take the first step down, Thomas grabs my hair and yanks me back.

“No!”

I scratch at his arms, desperate to break free.

He slams me against the wall, and pain explodes at the base of my skull.

“What the fuck did you think you were going to accomplish by running? Stop acting like a child, Wren.”

Not again. Oh my god, not again.

“Let—let go of me!”

I shove against him, wracking my brain for how to get out of this position.

“Then come back to the apartment,”

Thomas says menacingly, “unless you want a repeat of the last time we were in here.”

“No,”

I screech. We’re right by the stairs. One simple shove, and he’d send me tumbling down.

Rhett never taught me what to do if someone pinned me against a wall, but he still taught me plenty. Use your surroundings to your advantage. Throw off your opponent’s balance. Use your own weight against them.

“I’m not above dragging you back.”

I don’t respond, focusing all of my energy on getting the hell away from Thomas. Gritting my teeth, I slam my knee into his crotch, watching his eyes go wide with pain. He lets go of me, doubling over, and I scramble free.

“You fucking bitch,”

he groans.

“You’ll pay for this.”

“Wren?”

I hear Rhett call, his voice echoing from below, but it barely registers in my mind.

Thomas is already straightening. Before he can take another step toward me, though, I realize I have an opening. A chance to repay him for what he did to me.

I don’t think about it—I just move. With all my strength, I shove Thomas backward—right down the stairs. His arms flail as he tries to catch himself but fails. I cringe when his head hits the concrete with a sickening sound.

“Wren!”

Rhett’s voice is louder now, and I realize he’s on the landing below—the one that my stepfather just rolled onto. He ignores Thomas’s body, jumping over it and taking the stairs two at a time.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“He—he…”

I blink, staring up at him when he grabs my shoulders. His touch is gentle and comforting, a welcome contrast to the rough way Thomas handled me.

“Christ, sweetheart, you’re shaking.”

Rhett’s arms envelop me, and I press my face into his chest, breathing in his calming scent.

“I didn’t know they were here,”

I say weakly.

“They? Who is he?”

He glances down at Thomas, who’s just beginning to stir. Recognition flickers over Rhett’s face.

“That’s him, isn’t it?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Is your mom here, too?”

I nod.

“She didn’t follow.”

“Follow?”

Rhett frowns.

“I… I ran. Thomas chased after me.”

“You’re okay?”

Nodding again, I gingerly touch the back of my head. It stings, and I wince. “Mostly.”

From below, Thomas groans and does his best to sit up. I’m pretty sure he was unconscious for a few seconds, so I bet he has one hell of a concussion. Rhett turns his attention toward Thomas, holding onto me for another second before stalking down the stairs.

I lean against the wall, watching as Rhett grabs the collar of Thomas’s shirt and hauls him into a sitting position.

“What happened?”

he demands.

Thomas grimaces at his harsh tone. His head slowly turns until he’s looking at me. “She…”

“No,”

Rhett spits out.

“You. You fell, all on your own.”

“No… no, she…”

“You fell.”

Rhett hoists Thomas up, drags him to the next flight of stairs, and throws him down it.

“And that was you falling again.”

“Rhett!”

I fly down the steps and grab his arm when he moves to follow Thomas. “Don’t.”

Thomas manages to lift himself up enough that he can lean against the wall. His shirt is stained with blood.

“He deserves worse,”

Rhett growls.

“Not if we’re going to get away with it.”

I tug on his arm, pulling him back as a door opens a few flights above. Lowering my voice, I say, “If he’s too badly hurt, no one will believe it was an accident.”

“Wren?”

my mom calls. “Thomas?”

“We’re down here,”

I yell back.

“Come quick! He fell down the stairs.”

As Patricia descends, Rhett and I make our way down to Thomas. He kneels, leaning in close.

“You fell, you bastard. Unless you want me to haunt you for the rest of your miserable life.”

Thomas whimpers, shakily nodding.

“How did you know where I was?”

I ask Rhett.

“I was waiting for the elevator when I heard you yelling in the stairwell,”

he says just as my mom comes into view. “I—”

“Thomas!”

Patricia shrieks. She runs down the last set of stairs and drops to her knees in front of him.

“Oh my god!”

“He hit his head,”

I say, not having to feign the way my voice trembles. Thomas scared the shit out of me.

“What happened?”

she demands.

“Look at him! His arm!”

For the first time, I spend more than a split second staring at Thomas. His one arm is bent at an unnatural angle. Fucking bastard deserves it.

“This came from a fall?”

Patricia stands, whirling to face me.

“Wren, if you’re lying to me—if this was some petty revenge—”

“That’s enough,”

Thomas rasps.

“But—”

“No,”

he snaps, wincing from the force of it.

“I just tripped. You think Wren could get the best of me in a fight? Come on, Patricia, just look at her.”

My mind rages to say otherwise, to prove him wrong, but I keep quiet. There’s a reason my mother accused me of being petty—because she is. She’ll call the police on her own daughter even though she knows damn well that what I did was in self-defense.

Mostly.

“I’d say he needs an ambulance,”

Rhett says.

“I’d know. My dad’s a doctor.”

My mom pulls out her phone and dials 911 while I back away. Rhett follows me, placing a protective hand on my hip.

“What do you want to do?”

he murmurs.

“I want to get out of here.”

Once Patricia is off the phone, I tell her, “I’m packing your things, and I’ll leave them with the front desk. You’re not welcome here.”

“Wren! Seriously? Look at Thomas, he probably has a concussion!”

“You can stay in a hotel,”

I say dryly.

“I don’t ever want to see either of you again.”

Patricia looks like I just slapped her, but how can she not understand? How can she tell me to not kick Thomas out after he yanked me around like I was a doll? And why would she think this is petty revenge instead of making sure he doesn’t hurt me again?

I turn away, not letting her watch my expression as my brain so kindly reminds me that this was partially revenge. It wasn’t my main reason for pushing Thomas, nor was it petty, but she’s a little bit right.

“Wren, I—”

“Go,”

I say, my voice flat and void of emotion. I don’t turn to face her.

“You two deserve each other.”