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JARED

I ’m sitting on a couch next to Mr. Reyes as we gaze at Rachelle on the couch. Ignacio is on his way home with Liliana after helping her, and I asked Theo and Elijah to give me a few minutes with Rachelle’s stepfather.

Every second that I gaze at my wife, I get angrier. Her swollen shut eye, the IV slowly dripping into her vein, and the bandages on her arms from the barbed wire. Who fucking uses that to tie someone up? Damn idiots, that’s who. He could have sliced her wrists completely.

She almost bled out. My heart drums with the sound of my love and fear for Rachelle. This woman somehow is going to give me grey hair well before I deserve.

Can you go grey haired at twenty?

Mr. Reyes slowly sips his scotch, completely still as he sits next to me. His muscles are coiled and tense, waiting on me. I’m not exactly being stealthy as I seethe, but he’s not the enemy.

“You’re thinking really hard there,” he says. “Want to tell me why you’re glaring at my daughter?”

“She’s not my issue,” I grumble, sighing as I realize that I’m not making any sense. “She’s been in constant danger, until now. There’s only one more obstacle to her gaining her life back.”

“I’ve been working on that, but it’s been an uphill battle,” Mr. Reyes says.

“Other than the fact that her last name is mine, I hate everything about her name,” I growl, ignoring his amused huff. “It’s a reminder of what we’ve cost her, sir.”

“The fact that this weighs so heavy on your mind makes me proud to have you as my son-in-law. Rachelle deserves the world,” he says.

“She does, and things are better, but I’m still terrified she’s going to decide she’s better off without us,” I mutter.

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Mr. Reyes says, gazing down at the amber liquid in his cup.

“No one is perfect, and Rachelle understands that better than anyone. I’ve kept a million secrets while juggling everything.

At the end of it all, I left her alone for far too long. She needs you all.”

Nodding, I watch the steady rise and fall of her chest, reminding myself that we arrived in time to help her. God, I can’t believe she was baiting the bastard.

“She’s like no one else,” I say finally. “I need a meeting with the Kings Society Council, sir. I have six folders to present to them to argue that it’s in their best interest to forget that Rachelle Denton exists.”

“She’s not married to you in her other life,” he says, chuckling.

“Oh, but she will be. No matter what her damn name is, she’s wearing my ring. I’ll have a ceremony with the rest of our group, manage a way to have everyone involved, but she’ll carry my name,” I say stubbornly.

“I haven’t been able to get anything on all six members of the senior council, what makes you different?” Mr. Reyes asks.

“I own a sex club,” I say with a smirk. “There are women who work at the club who have no problem dominating men and women who come to the dungeon for that type of service. It’s rare that they sleep with them, but there’s a lot they can do outside of that.

Lips get loose, and the information is brought to me. ”

“Huh.” Mr. Reyes drains his glass as he stares out of the window, his arms crossed. “I suppose that can be very useful.”

“Right? However, there’s one man who has been elusive,” I sigh.

“Theo garnered what I needed from Lucius’ private computer server and the dark web.

Six folders full of blackmail that’ll be released if anything happens to any of us.

Stealing public funds as government officials, shutting down homeless shelters, and fucking prostitutes that aren’t legal, but said they were. ”

“Pedophilia is only celebrated in private for the Society,” Mr. Reyes says sagely.

“Correct,” I agree. “However, if all of that information dropped into the hands of reporters and public blogs, their careers would be ruined. No more backers for their careers, the ability to rule taken from them as they’re replaced by a younger generation.”

“What type of generation?” he asks, shaking his head. “Surely you’re not suggesting that you take over?”

“No, and I don’t want it,” I admit. “I’m enjoying what I’m building here in Santa Barbara. I wouldn’t mind permanently putting down roots here.”

“Funny you say that,” he says. “I think I’m in the market for a new house.

I’m putting the businesses in Portland in the hands of trusted employees and am planning to move here.

I despise being so far away and Liliana’s father feels the same.

I miss my wife, and the only way to bring her home is to end any and all ties to the Society that you may have. ”

“I don’t want it,” I repeat. “I have been networking with alumni who attended Carlysle Prep to build my allies and connections. I haven’t spent a dime of what the Kings Society has given me.

It’s why we started the club. We wanted to get as far from under their thumb as possible.

Now, it’s time to cut the cord, convince them that Rachelle’s death debt has been paid. ”

“It’s more than time,” Mr. Reyes says. Rachelle makes a sound of pain, and I find myself on my feet before I make a conscious decision to move. “Take care of your wife, Jared. I’m going to go find some pain medication for her. I bet her arms are going to begin hurting her.”

We cleaned her cuts and spread antibacterial cream on them before covering them, but we didn’t have anything for the pain. I bet everything is hurting her. She doesn’t have any bumps on her head outside of the bruises from el Tigre’s fists, yet those are more than enough to give her a concussion.

Nodding, I move to grab a waste basket in case her stomach decides to rebel, before I walk over to sit next to her.

“Rachelle,” I rasp, my voice low and gentle as I brush my fingers over her hairline.

Her leg is just as bruised from the beating it took from the chair when it crashed to the ground. Christian wasn’t at all careful with her. She told Mr. Reyes everything that happened, recounted every bruise with him.

Her skin is a tapestry of abuse.

“Jared?” she whispers, her eyes fluttering over her skin.

“It’s me. Your step-father went to get you something for your pain. We need to stop meeting like this, wife,” I say half heartedly, enjoying the way she smiles.

“Being a punching bag sucks,” she groans. “It hurts.”

“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I’m going to stay with you tonight, make sure everything bad stays away.”

Rachelle looks super out of it, and I grab her hand to try to get her to focus on me.

“Where else would you be?” she asks weakly. Her voice is a breathy whisper, as if she still has one foot back in a dream land.

“Nowhere else,” I promise, though I know I’m going to need to go back to Portland as soon as the Council grants me a meeting.

This all needs to end. The bet that led us here needs to become obsolete and deemed paid. Rachelle is a girl with her entire life ahead of her, and having this hanging over her head isn’t fair.

I’ll pay the debt with blackmail, deceit, and lies. Anything to keep her for ourselves.

RACHELLE

There are tears on my lashes when I fully wake up. I’ve been in and out of sleep, the pain medication putting me under as well as a sleeping pill would. Somehow, I must have been dreaming fucked up things that caused me to cry.

Due to having a possible concussion, someone wakes me up at odd hours, keeping me as alert as possible before I drift off again. My sleep hasn’t been the most restful.

“You’re up,” Liliana’s relief-filled voice says.

Smiling weakly, I nod. Theo, Nacio, and Elijah are sitting around her, but my eyes look for Jared. It’s greedy to want them all, I know it is.

I can’t help it. My heart flip flops as I allow myself to understand that I care about them all. I love them, and I need them. Somehow, they found their way underneath and around my walls.

“Where’s Jared?” I ask, my voice wispy and weak. I hate feeling like this, rung out and beaten up. At least the fucker is dead. Liliana, Ignacio, and Mr. Cruz dropped him in a barrel of acid and nailed the top shut.

Christian Rodriguez will never hurt anyone, ever again. They’ve fed me tidbits of information whenever they had to wake me up, keeping me in the loop.

“He had to go,” Liliana says gently as I shake my head in confusion.

I don’t understand. He said there was nowhere else he’d want to be.

“Where?” I ask, coughing from emotion and lack of water. My voice sometimes will stop working when I’m really upset, and it’ll just crack and sound really hoarse. I hate the way it exposes me..

Elijah grabs a large cup with a straw and walks it over to me. Moving it so I can drink while laying prone, he watches me carefully. Taking a sip, I glare at him.

“I dislike being managed,” I growl.

“Fuck,” Nacio mutters. “That’s not what we’re doing, querida . I swear, I would never. He went to Portland with my dad. He’s on his way to a meeting with the Kings Society.”

“What meeting?” I ask, my eyes darting around the room as Elijah steps away with the cup. The water was cool and soothed my throat, but I can’t get distracted. Even if it makes me seem ungrateful.

I want to know what’s going on.

Getting my arm underneath me to prop myself up, I forget for a moment that it’s all cut up. Cursing as my muscles collapse underneath me, I begin to cry. I feel like complete shit and he left me.

“He didn’t leave you, Kitten,” Theo says, rushing over to kneel by me.

Shit, now I’m talking to myself.

“Stop frowning,” he adds. “Now let me help you sit up before you hurt yourself.”

Pulling my body up until I’m sitting upright, he fixes my pillows. The IV is no longer in my vein, taken out after the second bag of fluids. Sighing, I look down at my arms that are covered with bandages.

“Do you want to know why Jared went to Portland?” Elijah asks, getting my attention immediately. At my nod, he sighs. “Your name irritates Jared. Wait, your fake name.”

I think he explained more because I made an upset noise.