Page 76 of Ruthless Desires, Vol. Two (Ruthless Desires Series Extended Editions #2)

Rhett

“Does this count as a date?”

Despite the circumstances, I smile at Wren’s question. This is the first time the four of us have gone out together since we escaped. It’s far from romantic, but… well, we are all here.

“I guess,”

Elliot says. He’s trying to stay serious, but some amusement still creeps into his tone.

Oliver snorts.

“A murder date. Who would’ve ever predicted that?”

“It’s actually kinda fitting,”

Wren says.

“You know, given your professions.”

Elliot slows the SUV to a stop and glances over at me.

“You ready?”

The air here feels thick—almost heavy. Or maybe it’s my coat and the way it’s zipped all the way up and constricting my throat. I nod silently, feeling around for the door handle and opening it. Cool air rushes in, but it does little to help.

“Hey.”

He grabs my arm before I can get out.

“You’re not alone.”

When I pull free and my feet hit solid ground, Oliver is already waiting for me. I didn’t notice him and Wren get out. He places a hand on my shoulder, and I’m just able to fight my gut reaction to shove him away.

Closing my eyes, I breathe deeply. I focus on the warmth of his palm radiating through my clothes and the scent of woodiness and vanilla.

“What if I can’t do it?”

I whisper.

“Then we will,”

he replies without hesitation.

“For Sammy—and for you.”

“Masks,”

Elliot says.

“And everyone’s got their gloves?”

Oliver pulls his mask over his face.

“Ready to go.”

Logically, I know I have no reason to be afraid. It’s four against one, and three of us are highly skilled in eliminating threats. Since we left home, though, my thoughts have run rampant.

What will he say to me? Richard never let a chance go past to put me down in front of the guys. They know better than to listen—so does Wren—but it doesn’t change how humiliating it is.

Wren grabs my hand as we begin our walk. We aren’t entering the neighborhood by vehicle so we don’t get caught on any security cameras. Thankfully, my father’s house is on the border, so we just have to deal with getting over the stone wall around the perimeter of the neighborhood.

It’s close to eleven, so darkness shrouds us as we pick our way through the property on the other side of the wall. Once we’re directly behind Richard’s house, we stop.

How will Benny feel about this?

Will he care? Will he blame himself for this somehow? Or will he just be relieved? I suppose I just have to hope that he’ll be happy about it—or that he’ll at least come to terms with it when he gets older.

“Do you need a minute?”

Elliot asks.

I realize I’ve been staring at the wall for a solid minute. Wren’s hand is still in mine, and I realize I’m holding it rather tightly. With an apologetic smile, I loosen my grip.

We’re in no rush to get back home. Meredith showed up at the house before we left to watch the boys. It’s not like they need a babysitter, but they still don’t know where everything is. If they need something, it’s easier this way. And… well, I don’t fully trust Andrew yet. This is different than keeping quiet about Ludo’s death. Richard is his father.

“We can take as much time as you need,”

Oliver says.

I shake my head.

“No. Let’s go.”

The wall isn’t too high, so we don’t have much trouble getting over it. The backyard is large and looks like it’s kept perfectly manicured during the summer months.

A few lights are still on in the house. Most likely, Richard is waiting up for Corinne. We don’t have much time before she leaves to come home, but Finn is tailing her, and as of a couple minutes ago, she’s still at her party. We watch the house for a few minutes before spotting movement in one of the upstairs windows.

Picking one of the back locks doesn’t take long. We enter quietly, and I shut the door slowly so it doesn’t make a single sound. Music drifts through the air, coming from upstairs, and I stop in my tracks.

“What?”

Oliver whispers.

“The song.”

My fingers curl into tight fists. On my parents’ anniversary, my mom would put this song on and beg Richard to dance with her to it. It was the song that played during their first dance at their wedding. She called it their song.

So why the hell is Richard listening to it now, all these years later? Does a part of him miss her? How could he after he all but abandoned her?

Without another second of hesitation, I march upstairs and barge into his study. He’s sitting in an armchair, happily humming while he flips through a magazine. When he sees me, he jumps to his feet.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

“You know exactly who I am.”

At my voice, Richard’s face falls. He stumbles backward, knocking into his chair and falling on his ass.

“What—what are you doing here?”

“Making sure you never hurt anyone ever again.”

Realization fills his eyes.

“You! Did you steal my boys?”

“No, but I made sure they’re safe.”

Elliot and Oliver move forward swiftly and haul him to his feet.

“Let go of me!”

Richard tries to yank his arms free.

“How are you both still with him? Haven’t you realized—”

“Watch your mouth,”

Oliver snaps.

“Unless you want this to be more painful than it needs to be.”

Wren hovers close to me, and as the guys drag Richard out of his office and toward the bathroom, I realize she’s placing herself in between him and me. My heart squeezes. Even as my mind fills in Richard’s cut-off sentence with all the things I know he wants to say, the pain eases.

She’ll protect me until the bitter end—they all will.

Richard is shouting as Elliot and Oliver shove him into the bathroom. They can’t be too forceful—we don’t want any signs of struggle. But they’re strong enough that they can contain him easily.

Before I follow, my eyes land on his phone, the screen still lit up. He has a messaging app pulled up, and in it is a text, drafted but not sent, meant for Corinne.

Richard: Listening to our song and thinking of you.

I delete the message, anger washing over me and renewing all the hurt I did my best to keep in a box. With a forceful breath, I type out a new message—a simple apology—and set his phone on his desk.

“Rhett,”

Ell calls.

“Coming,”

I yell back, rounding the desk and opening the top drawer. As I suspected, the knife he’s had since I was a kid is nestled in between pens and sticky notes. I grab it, the weight familiar in my palm, before sliding the drawer closed.

Wren and I move toward the bathroom, and I almost warn her about how much blood there will be, but then I stop myself. She knows. By this point, she’s watched a handful of men die—two of them at her own hand. This isn’t something that’ll catch her off guard anymore.

We pass through Richard and Corinne’s bedroom and into their bathroom. The clawfoot tub stands away from the wall, which gives us easy access from all sides. Oliver and Elliot are holding Richard down while he does his best to get free.

“Your song?”

I growl, stalking up to the edge of the tub.

“Your song?”

At the fury in my voice, Richard freezes. “I—”

“Did you ever love her?”

I demand, my voice breaking.

She deserved better. So much better.

Richard tries to shove Elliot and Oliver away, but they keep him firmly pinned down in the tub. One day, hopefully soon, I’ll look back on this and take pleasure in the memory of the panic in his eyes. But right now, all I feel is the pain and rage I’ve bottled up my entire life.

“Answer me,”

I grit out.

“At one point, I thought I did,”

my father replies, his gaze dropping.

“But now, I’m not sure. We were young. Stupid. We didn’t know what love was.”

“She knew,”

I tell him.

Everything I planned to say to him feels so unimportant now. Would it really even matter? This—this is beyond heartless. There’s no point in explaining all the reasons I’m doing this. He’ll never understand. He’ll never care.

Flipping open the knife, I grab one of Richard’s hands and force his fingers to wrap around the handle. “Do it.”

“What? No! Are you fucking kidding me? I’m not killing myself, I—”

“Do it,”

I shout.

“You’re a doctor. You know how to make it as quick and painless as possible. If you make me kill you, I won’t provide you with that courtesy.”

He gasps, horror and disgust falling over his features. “You—”

But Oliver clamps a hand over his mouth. His gaze locks with mine, hardened with anger on my behalf.

“He doesn’t get to say anything else to you. Not on my watch.”

The next couple minutes in the bathroom are a blur. I’ll never forget Richard’s whimpers of pain or all the blood, but it’s not the thing that sticks with me the most. What does is the relief. The weight that lifts off my chest, so familiar I feel unsteady without it.

“It’s done,”

Elliot says quietly, only letting go of Richard once his chest has stopped moving.

“He’s gone.”

When I stand, I feel dizzy. I’ve dreamed of this day for years, and now it’s finally here. My father is dead. He’s finally paid for his part in Sammy’s death—for his part in my misery.

Wren grabs onto me, and I realize I’m swaying. I don’t think my body knows how to react. Standing over my father’s dead body, knowing my sister’s murderer is locked up and in an unimaginable amount of pain, I’ve never felt safer.

“Hey.”

Oliver places a gloved hand to my chest.

“You’re okay.”

My smile is shaky and mostly hidden by my mask.

“You’re okay,”

he repeats as Elliot slides an arm around me to take some of my weight.

For a few brief seconds, I lean into them, closing my eyes. I am okay—possibly for the first time since I was young.

“Thank you,”

I whisper, feeling like I could float away—like they’re the only thing tethering me to the earth.

“I love you all so much.”

And then we go, slipping into the darkness and driving back home. None of us speak. None of us need to.

When we finally fall into bed, I doze off quickly, and I sleep for the longest I have in years.