Sweet Retribution (Ruthless Games 2)

I scowl at him. “That doesn’t count. That’s just a coincidence. Good luck, like the doctor said.”

His grin is fierce and feral. “It counts if I say it counts.” He pushes me onto my back, resting on an elbow to hover over me. “And you’re more than good luck, Ayla. You’re my fucking guardian angel, and you always will be.”

He kisses me, drugging me with the feel of his large, calloused hand roving over my body and his lips on mine. I wrap my arm around him, carefully avoiding his wounds as I pull him closer.

Marcus has been calling me his guardian angel ever since he crashed back into my life, and I never really believed him.

But as we kiss each other like our lives depend on it, like the other person is our air and water and food, I realize for the first time that I want to be.

I’ve found something with these men that I never knew existed, that I never thought I could have. And there’s no fucking way I’m letting anyone take it away from me now.

Chapter 18

It’s close to noon by the time Marcus and I finally emerge from the bedroom. We find Theo and Ryland in the kitchen, and my stomach does a strange little flip-flop when I see them.

I can still feel the events of last night everywhere on my body, as if they’ve been permanently imprinted on my skin. When Ryland rises from his barstool and palms the back of my head before kissing me, it strikes me how much things really have changed.

Again.

Theo swoops in for a kiss as Ryland sits back down, and Marcus and I settle at the kitchen island. There are eggs and bacon that someone—probably Theo—cooked up, and we serve ourselves and grab some coffee. My stomach growls as I sprinkle on a little salt. I haven’t eaten since before the party last night, and I’m starving.

But I almost choke on my first bite when Theo glances over at Marcus and asks, “So, when’s the wedding?”

Marcus stiffens, and I chug hot coffee to try to keep from choking to death. There’s a scraping noise, and I realize that Ryland kicked Theo’s stool under the island.

Theo holds up his hands, shaking his head. “Hey, I just wanted to know what date I need to murder Victoria by, that’s all. We need to know what we’re dealing with. What kind of timeline we’re on.”

That’s the second time in less than twenty-

four hours that one of these men has vowed to kill the elegant auburn-haired woman, and I don’t really care what it says about me that I like that.

“He’s got a point,” Ryland grunts. “I’m surprised she didn’t try to get a priest to do the honors while you were lying in bed all fucked up on pain meds and less likely to tell her to go fuck herself.”

Marcus’s jaw clenches. “That wouldn’t have given her what she wanted. This is a stunt. Something meant to cause waves and get people talking. Speculating. Everyone already knows the three of us won’t turn on each other, and now she’s trying to position herself as part of that. And she needed Luca to witness our engagement so that the wedding itself would seem halfway legitimate.”

“So then what timeline are we looking at?” Theo purses his lips.

I set my fork down next to my half-finished eggs. I really wish Theo had brought this up after we ate, although I know we can’t put off talking about it. But my stomach is now such a hard lump that the idea of eating anything makes me feel a little queasy.

“A month.” Marcus shoves his plate away too. “Maybe a little more. I’m sure she’ll want it done before the next game begins so she’ll have a shield against attack from any of us.”

“I think she’s counting way too heavily on our sense of honor,” Ryland grunts, anger resonating in his voice. “Thinking a fucking marriage license is gonna keep one of us from putting a bullet in her head.”

“No, she’s not.” I speak up suddenly, and all three men turn to look at me. I bite my lip. “She’s not stupid. And she knows you guys aren’t either. She’s not counting on your honor to save her. She’s counting on the fact that it would be suicide to kill her.”

“Angel.” Marcus’s jaw clenches.

I glance around our small group, meeting each of their gazes. “What would happen if someone murdered another competitor outside of the allotted seventy-two-hour window?”

There’s a moment of silence, as if none of them want to answer. Then Theo clears his throat. “Their life would be forfeit. They’d be killed, or hunted down and then killed if they tried to run.”

A shiver runs up my spine at his words, but I forge ahead. “And what do you think would happen if a husband killed his wife during the allotted window? Do you think Luca would stand for that?”

Marcus’s nostrils flare, and my mind flashes back to the promise he made me last night. I don’t doubt for a second that he’d kill Victoria rather than marry her.

But I don’t know if I can let him do that.

Two weeks of not knowing whether he was alive or dead nearly killed me. I can’t fucking lose him again.