Page 69 of Ruthless

Isaac and Rory come into the living room and see the present left for us.

“What the feck does that mean?” Rory asks as he stands next to me.

Isaac takes a stand next to Axel but shares a look with me. Neither one of us answer him. The last thing I want to do is tell my hot-headed brother-in-law about my past or that whoever took his sister might be selling her off to the highest bidder.

Isaac peers over Axel’s shoulder, and his eyes widen. He rips the photo out of his hand as his nostrils flare. “Motherfucker.”

“What the hell, man?” Axel shakes off his annoyance when he catches a glimpse of Isaac’s face.

“What is it?” Judging by Isaac’s body language, I’m not gonna like his answer.

“See for yourself.” Isaac holds the photo out to me, and the second my gaze lands on that bastard’s smug face, my gut tightens, but when I see the wolf tattoo on his middle finger, everything inside me goes numb.

I spin on my heels, ready to get the hell out of there when the sound of glass crunches underneath my boots. “What the fuck?” I kneel and pick up the transparent frames. A knot forms in my throat the second I look at them. I’d know these frames anywhere. Kennedy can’t see shit without them. The lenses are cracked, but there’s a small patch of blood in the upper left corner. My fingers clench around the frames until they’re digging into the metal of my wedding ring.

“He’s fucking dead.” I grind my teeth together as everything inside of me ignites into a storm. He’s fucked with what belongs to me. And there will be no mercy when I find him.

CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX

Kennedy

Musty, stale air hits me the moment I wake up. I inhale and realize that it’s coming from my shirt, but when I pull it up to my nose, the material is different. It’s rough and itchy, nothing like the top I was wearing before I blacked out, and it’s much longer. Almost like a hospital gown, but much thinner. Goose bumps form along my legs as the cool temperature brushes against the exposed skin.

My eyes blink open, trying to take in my surroundings, but nothing is coming into focus. It’s a void of shadows. It doesn’t help that I’m blind as hell without my glasses. The hardness of the concrete digs into the skin of my hip as I push up onto my side. Pain explodes along the back of my head.

“Shit.” I grab the side of my head and wince.

“Ken?” Her tiny voice cracks through the darkness, giving me a fraction of hope. Neither of us is dead yet.

“Fiona?” I turn my head toward the sound of her voice. There’s a tiny sliver of light coming through the crack underneath the door, but it isn’t enough to giveaway where either of us is. All I can make out are plain walls and her tiny form.

“Oh, thank god. I thought you were dead.” She lets out a long breath.

“Are you hurt?” I need to know how bad off we are because we need to come up with a plan on how we’re going to get the hell out of here.

“I’m good. A little bruised, but it could be worse.” Her voice trembles, and I can hear her body shiver from across the room.

“Yeah, it could.” I sit up on my hands and knees and crawl forward toward the sound of her voice. The bottom of my gown covers my knees and acts as a slight buffer from the rough floor until I reach her, and her outline comes into focus. When I’m right in front of her, she reaches out and swallows me up into a giant hug. I wrap my arms around her and let out a small sigh.

“I’m so sorry.” She sobs against my shoulder, causing her whole body to shake.

“Shh. It’s okay. We’re going to be okay.” I rub her back, sounding much braver than I feel. The same rough material as I’m wearing is covering her as well.

“It’s all my fault.” Her voice cracks, causing my eyes to well up with tears and a lump to form in my throat. My pregnancy hormones are no match for her emotions right now.

“No, it’s not.” I wipe the tears off my cheeks and pull back to face her. All I can make out is her dark silhouette, but for right now, it’s enough. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for this. Do you hear me?”

“If you hadn’t come to get me, we wouldn’t be in this mess.” She sniffles, and I see the vague outline of her hand wiping her cheeks.

“Stop. If anyone is to blame, it’s the assholes that took us.” I want to ask her what happened to make her run away and end up at my front door, but now isn’t the time. We have bigger things to worry about.

I scoot closer to her and press back against the wall until we’re shoulder to shoulder, and I lean my head down. “Fi?”

“Yeah?” She toys with the ends of my hair like she used to do when we were kids.

“I don’t have my glasses. That means I need you to be my eyes for me. Can you do that?” I keep my voice low and controlled. My dad always taught me to keep a clear head. Panicking does nothing but make a situation worse. If we’re going to figure a way out of here, we need to be smart.

“I can.” Her hands freeze. “But Ken, it’s too dark. I’m about as blind as you are right now.”

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