Page 15 of Ravaged Saints

“Relax, Aspen,” Bryn says softly, picking the clothes from the closet. She undresses, and I see her bruises are almost entirely gone.

“Relax? How?” I pace back and forth.

“Listen, if they wanted to hurt us, they would’ve already done it. Trust me, they would not wait,” she says with confidence while handing me a pillow.

I can’t relax! We are locked in an underground room in a house full of men who haven’t seen a woman in God knows how long. Is she crazy?!

Dante

Ilock the door and hear one of them fiddling with the knob, but there’s no way we’re letting them wander around. We have guns everywhere, and it’d be too easy for one of them to grab one and shoot us in our sleep. Especially Aspen, Knox said; she knows how to use one way too well.

I head upstairs, the steel stairs creaking under my weight.

In the living room, the guys are sprawled out on the black couch. Fucking assholes, never taking their boots off. I’ll have to clean the rug again.

They’re drinking; the room is heavy with silence, and the fire crackles. Its warmth finally relaxes my shoulders. I can tell summer is arriving, but the fucking nights are cold, especially inside these concrete walls.

Fuck, I didn’t even realize how tense I was since the girls walked through the door.

“What now?” I ask, grabbing a glass and pouring some whiskey.

“Now we’ve got two hot chicks,” Ethan says, grinning like a kid at Christmas.

“No one touches them until we figure this out,” Knox cuts in, his voice sharp as a knife. He rests his forearms on his knees, shoulders tense.

“He wanted to shoot them,” Max chuckles, and I snap my eyes to Knox, my muscles tightening again.

“What the fuck, Knox?” I shake my head. We’ve done dark shit, but killing two girls just like that?

“Better them than us,” he shrugs, taking a sip. His eyes stay fixed on the TV, playing some movie we’ve seen a hundred times, while Stranded by Gojira plays through the speakers.

“What if theywantto?” Ethan says, and we all turn to him, trying to figure out what the hell he’s talking about. “You know, fuck us.”

Max slaps him on the back of the head, and Ethan jerks forward, snarling. “Fuck, dude.”

“The brunette glared at me like a lioness about to strike when I touched her arm, so I doubt she’s thinking about fucking us,” I say, shaking my head.

“She’s a fucking brat,” Knox mutters, and I recognize that tone; he likes it.

“Bryn, the blonde, used to work at the Midnight Whispers,” Max says with a wicked smile, and Ryker sits straighter.

“The call girl business?” Ryker laughs, leaning forward. “That’s interesting.”

“You used them?” Max asks; his jealousy is obvious, making Ryker shift, his eyes glued on Max.

“No, never!” Ryker snaps. “Just heard a lot about it on base.”

I nod, looking around, and everyone shakes their heads, even Ethan. That’s a fucking surprise; he’s the rich kid. I thought for sure he had used the service.

“She was flirting,” I say, rolling my shoulders. “Bryn.”

“I noticed,” Knox says, lowering his tone.

“But Aspen is the opposite.” I shake my head, staring at Knox.

His demeanor changes when I mention her.

Knox is a dominant fucker; he likes a brat. Someone who’ll push his buttons and make him chase, and Aspen has already pushed several from what I can tell.

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