Sweet Retribution (Ruthless Games 2)

I like that we don’t use condoms. I like that I’m a sticky mess afterward. I like feeling a little bit marked by them, a little bit dirtied up.

Theo’s blue-green eyes look gray in the dim light as he reaches out and tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear. “You okay?”

I nod. Now that I’m clearer-headed, I can imagine how much I must’ve freaked the guys out. I felt like a zombie by the time we got back to the house, rational thought completely buried under a deep, instinctive panic.

“The man I bumped into at Saraven—he used to be my foster father.” I drop my gaze to Theo’s chest, reaching out to trace the lines of his muscled pecs. “He raped me for the first time when I was fifteen.” I clench my jaw, fighting hard to cling to the feeling of safety and security I feel in Theo’s arms. Reminding myself of who I am and where I am. “They had a big house. I was in the basement. His wife was upstairs. He put a hand over my mouth so I wouldn’t scream.”

“Jesus fuck,” Theo mutters, his voice strained.

I can feel his heart beating harder against my hand, and I keep my palm right where it is, maintaining the connection between us in an echo of the way he touched me earlier.

I won’t lose it—this connection between us. I won’t let myself push the men I love away.

“I haven’t seen him in years,” I say quietly. “When I looked up and saw his face, it was like… everything stopped. I stopped being who I am and became who I was. I was at his mercy again. Like nothing had changed.”

Theo’s jaw tightens. His face looks harder in this moment than I’ve ever seen it, and he shakes his head. “Everything has changed, Rose. You have us now.”

He leans forward to kiss me, rolling me onto my back as he presses his lips to mine, and for the first time since he entered the room, I feel a sort of violent desperation in him.

When he pulls away, there’s something in his face I don’t recognize. He kisses my nose, then each corner of my mouth, then rolls over and slides off the bed. He tugs his boxer briefs and pants back on quickly and scoops his shirt up off the floor before looking down at me. “Do you trust me, Rose?”

“Yes.” The word comes automatically. Thoughtlessly.

He nods, the hard glint in his eyes softening momentarily. “Good. Will you come with me?”

A little shiver of fear works its way up my spine at the intensity of his expression, but I nod, climbing off the bed after him. “Let me just clean up really quick.”

I slip into the bathroom and wipe up the sticky mess between my legs, glancing at my reflection in the mirror. My cheeks still have a pink flush to them, and my eyes are bright and clear, although shadows hover in their depths.

When I emerge from the bathroom and slip my clothes back on, Theo takes my hand and leads me downstairs.

Marcus and Ryland are standing in the kitchen, and both men look up sharply as we enter. I lost track of time after I ran upstairs earlier, but I know it’s been significantly longer than a few minutes. My heart squeezes a little at the realization that they’ve been waiting down here this whole time—that they’d probably wait up all night if they had to.

Worry churns in Marcus’s blue and brown eyes as his gaze moves up and down my body, like he’s searching for some hint as to what hurt me earlier. Ryland’s expression has gone blank as stone, the way it does when he’s trying to master strong emotions, and the atmosphere in the large kitchen is so thick it’s almost hard

to breathe.

Marcus takes two steps toward me, a question clear in his expression. Theo doesn’t say anything, just threads his fingers through mine, gripping my hand tightly.

I know why he brought me down here. He must’ve known how out of their minds with worry his two brothers were while they waited. He probably knows how much self-restraint it took both men not to come charging upstairs demanding answers.

But despite all of that, he’s not going to force me to tell them anything. If I keep my mouth shut, I have no doubt that Theo will too. He’s giving me this choice. Letting it be my decision.

I draw in a deep breath and let it out, allowing the contact between my hand and Theo’s to ground and center me. Then I open my mouth and let the truth pour out.

I spare them some details. There are parts of my history with Jordan McCabe that don’t deserve to be spoken out loud—it would hurt me to say them, and it would hurt the men to hear them. But I tell them enough.

My voice shakes a little as I speak, the prickle of numbness teasing my nerve-endings again as my body threatens to shut down. I squeeze Theo’s hand so tightly I swear I can hear his bones creak, but he doesn’t wince or try to pull away. He squeezes me back, offering himself as a silent support, a pillar for me to lean on.

Marcus and Ryland both go rigid as they listen, becoming so deathly still that they might as well be statues.

When I finish, Marcus’s gaze cuts to Theo quickly, and I look up just in time to see Theo nod. Ryland gives a short nod too, and I realize that something was just decided among the three of them without a word ever being spoken.

“Take the Maserati,” Theo tells them. “I’ll take Ayla in the Bentley and meet you. The safe house on Avondale.”

Marcus nods. He flashes me a look that’s loaded with so many emotions it almost knocks me backward. Then he jerks his head to Ryland, and the two of them head for the garage. Ryland’s hazel eyes find mine just before they disappear through the door, and the expression on his face makes my heart skip a beat.

As the door shuts behind them, I look up at Theo, my heart slamming against my ribs. “What was that? What’s happening? Why are we meeting them at the safe house?”