Page 61 of Ravaged Saints

Ryker nods, letting his head fall back against the chair. “Fuck, I need to get some sleep, Max.”

He stands and heads for the door.

“You know you can sleep here, right?” I say, keeping my tone casual but laced with some edge to it I can’t hide.

Unlike the girls’ rooms—untouched since we moved here after the plague—ours were redone. King-size beds, nightstands, closets, and dark walls. Each of us made our rooms our sanctuaries.

“I know.” His voice drops to a whisper, eyes heavy with something he won’t say aloud, and I offer him a small, understanding smile as he turns and walks out, quietly closing the door behind him.

Once alone, I strip off my clothes and lie on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

The BloodHawks. Knox gave our unit that name after we left the army. For a year, we all went back to our homes, trying to pretend we could live normal lives. But after spending most of our lives in the military, it was impossible.

Knox had the idea: form a mercenary unit and take the jobs no one else would touch. The pay was good, and more importantly, no one but Knox and Dante decided our missions or our fates.

It wasn’t easy; we were angry and bitter. Everything went to hell thanks to a shitty captain with a hidden agenda, and I hope that fucker caught the plague and died a horrific death.

I sigh heavily. Fuck, I can’t sleep.

Throwing on a pair of sweatpants, I head upstairs. In the open living space, Dante is on the couch, a drink in one hand and a book in the other.

“Can’t sleep, Max?” He takes a slow sip, his gaze steady over the rim of his cup.

“Yeah.” I pour myself a drink and sit across from him. “Knox and Aspen,” I say with a dry chuckle, but there’s a storm brewing inside me. It’s not jealousy—it’s fear. Fear that the door to her is already closed.

Dante laughs, looking up from his book. “We all heard.”

“And you and Ryker?” His eyes glint with knowing mischief.

I smirk, raising my glass in a silent toast.

“Now Ethan’s down there with Bryn,” he says, shaking his head. “Everyone’s fucking in this place now.”

I snort. “Do you think Aspen will still be open to you or me?” Dante had his moments with her, like I did.

He considers it, then shrugs with that calm confidence of his. “I think so. She found these magazines on the back of the shelves.”

“Magazines?” My eyebrows shoot up.

“BDSM magazines,” Dante says, and a slow, devilish grin spreads across his face. “Now our little doll is curious about the lifestyle.”

“Fuck,” I grunt, the thought hitting me like a punch to the chest.

“Fuck, indeed,” he echoes, his grin widening as he takes another sip.

“I think those were from one of the women that worked here. I remember Ryker mentioning one of them was a dominatrix in her free time.”

He had two women working here. One was also ex-army, but the other was a civilian who was good with computers. However, once the plague started, they left, and we never heard about them again.

I shake my head; the thought of Aspen in her room reading those, fuck me.

“I think we should mention the copper IUDs to the girls,” I say.

Dante shifts, his gaze meeting mine, sharp and assessing. “It’s the safest option, mate. Those condoms have been sitting in storage for years.”

The last thing we need is one of them getting pregnant.

Dante exhales, dragging a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I’ve thought about that.”

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