ME AND GUNNER step down into the basement at Blackout. Ty gave us the green light to use it and Gunner pointed out the two men who were hitting on our girls. Now they lay on the concrete floor, bloody noses and all.
“Thanks, gentlemen.” I nod to the two security guards who wear Blackout shirts. “We’ve got it from here.”
They both nod and exit the room, walking up the stairs, leaving us alone.
“What the fuck, man?” One of the guys asks, getting to his knees. He reaches up, smearing the blood on his face.
“Fffuuccckk,” the other groans, rolling onto his back.
“Like touching things that don’t belong to you?” I ask, arching a brow.
“What are you talking about?” The one on his knees gets to his feet.
“The two women you were hitting on at the bar.” I jog their memory, since I know the bouncers fucked them up a bit before bringing them down here. “The ones who you wouldn’t take no for an answer from.”
The guy snorts. “Fuck those whores …”
My fist connects with his face, snapping his head back. He stumbles over the other guy lying down, making him fall back to the floor.
“Those whores belong to us,” Gunner states, leaning up against the wall casually. “And no, we’re not sharing them with you.”
I’m not in the mood to get bloody tonight. Especially since Blake will notice once I make my presence known. So, I walk over to the back wall and remove the chain from the hook. Making my way to the guy who I punched, I wrap it around his neck a few times and then drag him to the wall, yanking him to his feet.
“What the fuck?” The other guy on the floor growls, getting to his feet, watching his friend struggle while I wrap the chain around a hook on the wall. I yank on it, pulling his feet up off the floor. “What the fuck are you doing?” The guy goes to charge me, but Gunner pushes off the wall and knocks him back to the floor.
“Where is your friend?” Gunner questions.
“Who?” he snaps. “You’re fucking …”
Gunner kicks him in the face, blood goes flying from his mouth. “There were three of you at the bar.”
“Fuck … you …”
Gunner stomps on his hand, making him cry out.
Once I have my man secured where I want him, I wrap the chain around the hook on the floor. Watching the guy hang there, I dig into his pocket, removing his car keys, wallet and cell phone. “What’s this?” I ask, pulling out a pill bottle. The prescription has been scratched off. But it’s not hard to figure out what the white pills are—rohypnol. “You were going to drug them.” I state. That’s why they were so adamant about getting them drinks.
“Hand me one of those.” Gunner gestures to another chain. I toss it to him, and he does the same thing with his guy. Also removing his belongings.
We exit the basement and walk up the stairs to find the two security guards standing there, making sure that no one came down to bother us. “Give them an hour.” I say and they nod. “Let the bastards fucking hang there.”
“Yes, sir,” they say in unison and nod.
Blake and I have been staying in the apartment above Blackout for three days, and I hate it. I’m not one to hide out, but it’s been our only option. I’ve had new cameras placed at the cabin and all around the property. I want to watch them for another week to see if Matt is hanging out there. So far, nothing. But he hasn’t been at the house of Lords. Meaning the fucker is also in hiding. He won’t do that for long, so my question is, what is he waiting on?
What is the opportunity he needs to make his move? And what the fuck is that going to be? Will he take her away from me? Or will he just kill her and leave her where her body falls for me to find? Either one is an option he’s considering.
I hate not knowing, and Blake is starting to go stir-crazy. She wants out of this damn club and back to the cabin. Doesn’t she understand, I’d much rather us be alone in the middle of nowhere than here?
I just keep telling myself a little longer. Matt will get restless, and when he does, I’ll be there to cut his fucking head clean off his body.
I stand on the balcony of the second story of Blackout and watch the girls dance below. Gunner brought Sarah over tonight. I figured some drinks would loosen Blake up and remind her that she’s not a prisoner here.
We didn’t bring much with us, so Sarah had brought her a dress and a pair of heels. Of course, I didn’t approve, but she had nothing else to wear. The moment I rip it off her later, I’m giving it back to Sarah. I’m surprised Gunner hasn’t already burned it.
My cell vibrates in my back pocket, and I pull it out to read the text.
Tomorrow night; Blackout.
Shit! My eyes look back down at my wife, and she’s smiling with a drink in one hand and her cell in the other. I made her take it with her. She stops bouncing around and takes a drink before holding up her phone. She reads over the text, her body going rigid. Then she turns and looks up at me.
Placing my forearms on the railing, I lean over it and stare down at her, trying to look unfazed by what I just received. Honestly, she’s ready. My girl has proven that she’s capable of taking on more than I thought.
The black lights bounce off her pretty blue eyes, and I can tell from here how large they are at the moment.
Sarah taps her shoulder, but she ignores her. A second later, she puts her drink down and heads toward the stairs. I push off the banister and go to meet her.
“I got my text,” she says, now panting from running up the stairs in heels.
“I know. I got one too.” Hers would be different than mine, but they mean the same thing. It’s time for her initiation.
She licks her lips. “Ryat, what if …?”
“You’re going to be fine.” I place my hands on her shoulders. “You won’t see me, but I’ll be here, okay?” She nods quickly. “Then you’ll meet me at the cathedral,” I remind her, and she nods again. “Hey.” I pull her into me. “It’s not until tomorrow night, so go back down there and have fun with Sarah.” I can’t believe I just said that. I’d much rather us be in bed than her shaking her ass on a dance floor for other men to watch. The big rock on her hand doesn’t hurt, though. I wanted something that said fuck off—I’m married, and my husband will gut you—from far away. I think I made the right decision.
“Okay.” She reaches up on her tiptoes and presses her lips to mine. “I love you.”
I run my hands through her tangled, sweaty hair. “I love you too, little one.” Then she turns and heads back down the stairs, much slower than when she ran up them.
Placing my forearms back on the railing, I watch her make her way through the crowd and back to Sarah. Blake nods a few times, and then they get new drinks.
“Aren’t you two the cutest couple?”
I look over to my right to see Ty has joined me. “She has initiation tomorrow night. Here.”
“What do you need me to do?” he asks without hesitation.
“Keep an eye out for her.”
He nods. “Of course. Just text me when it’s going down, and I’ll make sure I have all eyes on her at all times.”
Pushing off the railing, I reach out my right hand. “Thanks, man.”
“No problem.” He pulls me in for a man hug and slaps my back. “Come by my office before you call it a night. I’m expecting a phone call that might have an answer to your Matt problem.” Before I can respond to that, he walks back toward his office. And I start to feel sorry for Ty. For what he had and lost. I can’t imagine what he went through. I saw his rage. His anger controlled him for a very long time until he realized he could get his revenge. And he will—soon.
We always do. That’s what we’re trained for.
BLAKELY
GUNNER FOUND US on the dance floor and took my friend away from me, so I took that as my hint that I was done too. I make my way to the top of the stairs to see Ryat still standing in the same spot he has for the past three hours. Just watching me. And I’m hoping he doesn’t kill those two men who came to talk to Sarah and me. They really were nice and just striking up a conversation. They’d never been here and needed directions to the nearest hotel after they left Blackout.
“Come on.” He takes my hand.
“Where are we going?” I ask when he doesn’t head to the apartment that we are currently calling home.
“I have to talk to Ty,” he answers vaguely. Coming to an end of the hallway, he punches in a code on the keypad with his free hand and pushes the now unlocked door open.
Ryat enters and pulls me inside. I freeze when I see a woman slumped down onto a couch. A man straddles her legs on his knees, his dick in her mouth while his hands pin hers to the top of the cushion with one of his while the other is gripping the hair at her crown.
Her eyes meet mine, and she starts mumbling nonsense around his pierced dick. I look away, turning my body into Ryat, who stands next to me unfazed like I am.
What in the fuck?
Why didn’t Ryat knock?
The man picks up his pace, and I hear her start to gag. Turning my head, I look over my shoulder and watch him face fuck her roughly until he shoves it all the way down her throat and growls when he comes.
Pulling away quickly, he slaps his hand over her mouth and orders, “Swallow.” She looks up at him, blinking rapidly while tears run down her face, smearing her makeup. She tries to shake her head, but he prevents it and adds, “If you don’t, you’ll be licking it up.”
I look away again, my face heating with his words. Fuck, I’m drunk and horny. Why are we in here?
“Good girl,” I hear him praise her, and she whimpers.
I know, girl . I get it. Why do we crave that? To be praised for something that others would find degrading. I’d do some sick and twisted shit for Ryat if I knew he’d praise me for it. I want to please Ryat all the time. And when he tells me good girl, it’s like everything I actually did meant something to him.
“Now, go back to work,” the man demands, and I hear him zip up his pants.
The girl runs past me in a blur and out the door.
“Ryat,” the guy greets him excitedly. “That’s the second time you’ve caught me with my pants down lately.” He chuckles.
Second time? Dear Lord, I thought it was bad he didn’t knock this time. When will he learn his lesson?
“Guess I should start knocking,” he jokes, and I refrain from rolling my eyes at him.
“Well, you know I love an audience.”
That makes sense. I turn around and straighten my shoulders, and the guy now sits behind his desk. His black boots are propped up on the surface, and his arms are behind his head, fingers intertwined with a relaxed and carefree look on his face. He’s got facial hair, but it’s not overdone—more like a five o’clock shadow following the curve of his sharp jawline. His black hair— thick and unkempt—looks like he hasn’t cut it in a while. I wonder if he has it that way on purpose or just doesn’t care. His baby-blue eyes are on mine, and he doesn’t look the least bit ashamed that I was embarrassed by what we walked in on.
“Blake, we finally meet,” he announces, giving me a smirk.
Should I know this man? I mean, I’ve heard Ryat mention him. I know he owns Blackout and has loaned us the apartment above the club, but that’s as far as my knowledge of him goes. I’ve pretty much stayed locked in the apartment these past few days.
“Blake, this is Tyson Crawford. Ty, this is my wife, Blake.”
My heart immediately starts racing at his name. I look up at Ryat with wide eyes, and he frowns down at me.
“Uh…” I clear my throat. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” I say, remembering my manners. “Thank you for letting us stay here.”
Oh my God! Does Sarah know he owns Blackout?
“Of course, anything for Ryat and his wife,” he says, standing from his chair and walking around it. Leaning back against the edge, he crosses his ankles over one another and his arms over his chest. His eyes dismiss me and go to my husband. “It’s all set. I have everyone who is on shift tomorrow up to speed on the situation.”
I frown. What is he talking about?
“Thanks, man. It should go smoothly, but just in case—”
“I understand,” he interrupts Ryat. “You can never be too careful with the one you love.”
“Yeah,” Ryat says through gritted teeth. “Anything on Matt?”
My ears perk up at that. This guy is a Lord, so he has to know Matt.
“No.” His response is clipped. “But there’s already word on the street—two of my guards heard a few guys talking about you taking out his chosen.”
Do you ever feel the air shift? Can you tell the moment that the vibe changes in the room? Because I can at this very second. The air gets thicker, the temperature hotter as the man’s mood shifts with the mention of what Ryat did. Or maybe it’s just me. Afraid of what will happen to my husband when Matt decides to make himself known.
Ryat smiles and lifts his chin a bit. He’s proud of himself. And a sick, twisted part of me is proud of him too. This man will do whatever it fucking takes to not only protect me but also love me. “He can’t hide forever,” he adds.
“Yeah, well, Matt is a piece of shit and deserves to be strung up in the middle of the cathedral where all the Lords can watch him slowly bleed to death,” Tyson states, the darkness in his voice making the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
So much so that I reach up and rub the skin like it’s going to help.
“Oh, I’m going to teach him a lesson,” Ryat agrees, his voice just as threatening.
“I want to be there when you do it.” Tyson nods, the corner of his lips pulling back into a sadistic smile.
“Of course,” Ryat agrees.
“Let me know if you need anything else, brother.” Tyson reaches his right hand out, and Ryat shakes it. Tyson pulls him in for a manly handshake/hug and slaps his back with his free hand. “You two get some sleep tonight. You have a busy one tomorrow.”
