The Ritual

I throw the bag on my bed and turn to face them. “I didn’t need your help. So next time don’t follow me and get involved.”

Gunner snorts, and Prickett runs his hands through his hair.

“Listen …” Prickett steps into me. “Things haven’t been the same since you and Matt returned from Chicago last year. We all know it. We’ve all seen it. I don’t know what the fuck went down there, but you need to get your shit together. Fighting in the Lords over a chosen …?” He shakes his head. “That’s the last thing you want to be seen doing.”

I step into him, not about to back down. I love Prickett as a brother, but I’m not past breaking his fucking jaw. “Then he needs to keep his fucking hands off what’s mine.”

“Jesus, Ryat. Are you falling for her?” Gunner asks, wide-eyed.

“Fuck, no.” I hiss at his dumb-ass question. “This is about Matt and him putting his hands on something that doesn’t belong to him,” I shout. “I didn’t give him permission—”

“I’m going to stop you right there.” Prickett interrupts me, placing his hands up and stepping back, giving me some space. “Did he fuck her?”

“No.” I would have killed that sorry son of a bitch right there in the weight room and hung his body for all to see just to make a point.

“Then you can’t go after him, Ryat. Unless he did something with your chosen without your permission, the Lords won’t see your tantrum justified.”

“Tantrum?” I give a rough laugh.

“What else would you call it?” Gunner shrugs.

My teeth fucking grind because I could explain it to them a million different ways, and they wouldn’t understand.

Someone knocks on my bedroom door, and I snap, “What?”

It cracks open, and Sarah pokes her head in. Her eyes go from me to Prickett and then Gunner. “I’m headed to class,” she tells him.

He looks at her, then back at me. After a long second, he sighs. “I’ll walk you out.” Then he leaves me alone with Prickett.

“I …”

“Leave, Prickett.” I’m over this conversation.

He hangs his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just hope you know what you’re doing, Ryat. I’d hate for you to come this far and lose it over a piece of ass.” Then he too turns and walks out, leaving me pissed off.

An hour later, I’m boarding my father’s private jet when my cell rings in my pocket. Taking a seat in the white leather chair, I see it’s a number that isn’t saved and shows no name. Not uncommon.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Hello, Ryat.”

I recognize his voice immediately and sit up straighter in my chair. I haven’t spoken to him since I met him in the middle of the night in his office when he told me to choose Blakely. “Sir …”

“I heard there was an issue this morning at the house of Lords.”

My teeth grind. How the fuck does he know? Prickett and Gunner may not understand what I did, but they’re not rats. There wasn’t anyone else in the gym. And I know Sarah doesn’t know what happened. That only leaves one possibility. Matt! He’s already run his mouth to his daddy. Maybe he thinks if he can get me stripped of the Lords, he’ll get Blakely sooner. Maybe that was his plan all along. Go to Blake, threaten her, thinking she’ll run to me, and I’ll attack him. Fuck, if that was his plan, I fed right into it and gave him exactly what he wanted.

“Yes, sir. It won’t happen again,” I lie. Matt needs to learn his lesson. If I need to do that again, then so be it. I’ll face those consequences, when the time comes.

“No need,” he says dismissively.

I frown and repeat. “No need?”

“Yes. I’m not aware of the details, and neither do I care. But just so we have an understanding.” He pauses and clears his throat. “You do whatever the fuck is necessary to keep him away from her. And I’ll make sure that these pesky rumors are never heard of.”

A smile grows across my face. What the fuck has Matt done to piss off this man?

“Am I clear?” he asks at my silence.

“Yes, sir.”

Click.

I sit back as the engines come to life on the jet, and that smile grows even bigger, making my cheeks hurt. This game just got a lot more fun.

_______________

THE TOWN CAR pulls up to the front of the Victorian mansion in Upstate New York where I grew up.

Getting out, I grab my bag and head up the steps. Before I can even reach the last one, the door swings wide open. My mom shrieks, placing her hands over her mouth before running to me.

“Ryat!” she screams a little too loud in my ear as she hugs me tightly.

I drop my bag to hug her back. “Hey, Mom.”