Page 75 of Ruthless

Fiona strokes the back of my head, running her fingers through my hair. It’s the same thing my mother used to do to me as a child.

“Ken?” Her voice cracks as she whispers my name.

“Yeah?” I keep my gaze fixed on the darkness in front of me. If I can’t make out where we are, I can still pretend that we’re back at my house having a sleepover like we’ve done numerous times.

“Can you promise something?” She sniffles.

“What’s that?”

“If something happens and we get separated.” She pauses, and I can hear her swallow back her tears. “Or if I don’t make it out of this alive, will you tell my mother that I’m sorry for being such a pain in the ass.”

A lump forms in my throat as I squeeze the side of her leg, fighting back tears of my own. “Don’t say stuff like that. We’re going to be fine.” We have to be. We have too many people looking for us to fail.

“Let’s face it, Ken. Our chances of making it out of this alive aren’t looking so good. Nobody even knows where we are. They removed our clothes and took our phones. Our families have no way of tracking us.” Her voice hitches on the last of her words.

“I refuse to lose hope. We do that they win.” This gilded cage might be our prison, but it won’t kill my spirit.

“I guess,” she agrees, but I can tell she isn’t buying into it. Fiona has always been more practical than I am.

The lock turns, and the door swings open. Nausea hits me as two sets of footsteps come closer. I sit up and grip Fiona’s hand as we watch them step right up to where we’re sitting on the floor. They both tower over us like a hunter about to devour his prey. They’re still too far away for me to make out their faces without my damn glasses, but there’s no missing that wolf. The eyes glare back at me, taunting me.

When we don’t move, Lobo kicks at my feet. “Get the fuck up. Both of you, now.”

Fiona and I slowly climb to our feet, bracing against the wall for balance.

“Where are we going?” I stand on shaky legs and try to keep the rag I’m wearing from sliding off. It’s pointless since he cut it down the back.

“Roadtrip.” His smile sends chills racing through me. “Give me your hands.” I hesitate, and his voice hardens. “Now. Or I can always punish you again.”

My whole body shivers at the thought of the whip coming anywhere near my broken skin. It’s enough to make me do something I loathe—comply.

“Good girl.” He clucks his tongue in approval.

My hands ball into fists to avoid punching that smirk off his face. Something tells me that would make things much worse for us right now.

He wraps a zip tie around my wrists and cinches it tight enough that the inside of them rubs together. The guy that came in with him does the same to Fiona’s wrists, andI can make out a scar on his chin.

“Make sure she can’t get loose like the last cunt, Javi,” Lobo orders.

“That wasn’t my fault. The bitch tricked me,” Javi snaps back.

“Did I fucking ask for excuses?” Lobo’s voice hardens, putting an end to their conversation.

Fiona and I share a look at their topic of conversation. This is more serious than we thought. We need to figure out something fast because if they move us, the chances of being found are slim to none.

Lobo drops his hands, but before he moves away from me, he slides my wedding ring off and slips it into his back pocket. “You won’t be needing that where you’re going.”

He grabs me by the upper arm and spins me around to face the open doorway. His grip tightens as he drags me out the door. The air changes the second we step foot out of the tiny room, and it feels as if we’re walking out toward the guillotine for our final resting place. My heart pounds against my chest so hard that I’m surprised I don’t break a rib.

Fiona whimpers behind me as she’s forced to follow out after us and into a small hallway that leads up to a set of wooden stairs. Splinters dig into my bare feet, but I keep quiet and study every detail.

We keep going through another door that opens up to a moderately sized kitchen. It’s neglected and in need of some serious repairs. Half of the cabinets are missing off the walls, and there’s a massive crack in the porcelain sink. Wherever we are, it’s off the radar, which means no one will even think to look for us here. My stomach sinks at that letdown.

There’s an old wooden table in the middle of the kitchen, and two men are sitting at it playing some kind of card game. When they hear our steps, they give Fiona and me a quick once over before dismissing us and returning to their game.

Fresh air hits me as we make our way out of the kitchen and into the fresh morning air. We’ve been stuck in the dark for so long that the sunshine feels like heaven on my numb limbs.

The floor beneath me changes from dingy linoleum to grass. It scrapes at the bottoms of my feet, but I ignore it and glance around. There’s not a lot I can make out without my glasses, but there are the blurry outlines of Georgia Pines as far as the eye can see. The green is so thick that I can’t even make out a glimpse of the sun. Wherever we are, the property is a good size. It’s a minor setback, but it will give us enough cover to hide in until we can find our way to the road and get help.

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