Page 44 of Ruthless

“Zane! What the hell are you doing?” She jumps, but I don’t release my hold on her.

“We need to talk, Ken.”

“Then get out and let me get dressed like a normal person.” She tries to shut me out, but I don’t miss the slight hitch of her voice.

“No.” I rest my chin against the space where her shoulder and neck meet, enjoying the way she squirms from the tickling of my beard. “We do it in here, where we can leave this shit behind us and move on from here.”

“Can I at least turn around?” She tries to spin around to face me, but I press the weight of my body forward, keeping her in place.

“I can’t, Ken. What I have to tell you, I can’t—” I choke over my words. “I need to do it this way. Please?” My throat goes dry as it seems like I wait for an eternity for her to answer.

“Okay.” She nods as she lets out a small sigh.

“Thank you.” I press my lips to her wet flesh and let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I close my eyes and bare my soul’s darkest secret. “Since I can remember, my brother’s and I wanted to make a difference in the world. Asher became a cop, and Axel went into Special Forces. I became a Navy SEAL with my best friend, Nelson. We even graduated at the top of our class. Thought we were hot shit.” A hollow laugh escapes me as I think back to how arrogant and naive we were.

“We were teamed up with Isaac and Grady not long after graduation, and the four of us completed every mission they assigned us. We were so caught up in the high that we couldn’t wait for the next one. I think that’s why they approached us for this one.” A tightness builds in my chest as the memories flash through my mind like a movie.

“Eight years ago, our superiors called us into their office and said they had a special mission for us. They made sure we knew it was off the books. If we got caught, there’d be no record of us there, and we were on our own.”

“What was it?”

“Admiral Wallace’s daughter was on a mission trip in Kandahar with her church. She was taken and sold to a well-known group that deals in human trafficking. The higher-ups wouldn’t sign off on it because they said there were too many political factors involved.” My fingers flex around her waist, and she places her hands on top of mine. I take this as a sign of good faith and keep on going.

“Things were fine at first. We made it in without a problem. Then—” I let out another deep breath as I picture those brown eyes. “Then it all turned to shit. A boy was wandering around, and I grabbed him to keep him safe. He struck me from behind, and the next thing I knew, I woke up in a damp room underground, chained up to a wall by my wrists. Nelson was strung up next to me. I found out later they killed Grady, but Isaac managed to escape. They tortured us for days, trying to find out who sent us. I’m not sure how long exactly because there were no windows, and everything bled together.”

“The scars on your back?”

“Yeah, the scars on my back.” I’m not surprised she put that together. She felt them the other night.

She sucks in a small gasp, and I wonder if I should stop now, but she needs to know the worst of me.

“They kept asking who sent us and when torturing us didn’t work, they tried a different tactic. They cut off Nelson’s head right in front of me.”

“Oh my god!” Her body attempts to break free, but I keep her still.

“There’s more. Her name was Kara. She was eighteen and so full of fucking life.”

“Was?”

“She’s dead, Ken.” She whimpers, and I rub small circles with my finger against her hips as I continue purging my sins to the one woman who can break me. “When they brought her in, I barely recognized her. She was dirty and so fucking skinny. They—” My mouth tastes like ash as the memories surface. “They took turns raping her in front of me.”

She lets out a muffled whimper but doesn’t interrupt me.

“I broke free and killed every last one of them.”

“The boy?”

“I had no choice. He had a gun, and it was him or me.” I hope like hell she understands. “So, you need to think long and hard about what you want from here because that’s the monster you married. That’s whose kid you’re having.” I drop my hands and step back away from her, letting everything I just told her sink in. If she tells me to get the fuck out, I’ll respect it and leave. But, if she turns around, she’s mine for keeps.

My heart pounds against my chest. I wait for what seems like an eternity for her to make up her mind. Every muscle tenses as a sense of unease crawls through me. And suddenly, I’ve never wanted anything more than I do for her to turn around and accept me.

Her blue eyes are glassy as she holds my gaze, but mine drop to the cuts marring her face, and my hands clench into fists. Those assholes will pay whether she tells me to fuck off or not. She cups the side of my face and stares up at me with wide doe eyes. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“What?” Not what I expected her to say.

“What happened wasn’t your fault, and you need to let it go.” She grabs my hand with both of hers and places it against her stomach. “For the both of us. Can you do that?”

“I’m working on it.” I clench my jaw and stare down at the slight bump. The doctor said it might be too soon to show, but I can see it.

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