Page 85 of Ravaged Saints

Ethan struggles for a moment before finally going limp beneath him, his breath ragged.

Knox steps forward, his smirk widening.

Ryker releases Ethan, standing up and brushing the dirt off his pants. He doesn’t even look tired or out of breath.

Ethan gets up slowly, glaring at Ryker, but says nothing.

“That was fun,” Ryker says, with a smirk as if the fight hadn’t just happened. His eyes fall on me, and he winks.

I shake my head. “You’re all insane.”

Ryker and the guys chuckle; Max’s eyes are on Ryker, but he doesn’t approach him. All of a sudden, a soft voice comes from behind me, and Bryn runs to Ethan, throwing her arms around him, but Ethan keeps his gaze locked on Ryker, wrapping one arm around Bryn while his other hand rests on her ass. He kisses her hard, his eyes opening mid-kiss to ensure Ryker is watching.

“Fucker,” Ryker mutters under his breath, striding inside to grab the bags for their trip to the farm.

Dante stays behind, and I silently thank him for not leaving me alone with Ethan and Bryn. I love Bryn, but Ethan… Ethan makes the hair on my neck stand up, though I can’t explain why.

The house feels empty without all the guys here, and I feel a weird, heavy vibe that I can’t explain, and the thing is when I first got here, even with the fear I felt, the house never felt like this. I almost feel like my intuition is telling me something terrible is going to happen.

I try to shake that feeling off and head downstairs. The BDSM magazines have become my go-to when I need to keep my mind busy.

Passing by Ethan’s room, I hear them. They are almost whispering, and that catches my attention, and since the door is almost fully closed, I lean in to eavesdrop.

Ethan’s tone is sharp, his footsteps heavy. “You need to keep your mouth shut until the time is right!”

"You keep saying that!" Bryn's words waver, muffled slightly by the door, but the frustration is clear. "The time right for what?"

“Just fucking wait!” Ethan snaps, and the sound of his pacing suddenly stops.

“And if I don’t want to wait?” Bryn presses, her tone defiant.

There’s a soft whimper, and my stomach twists as I step closer. Is he… hurting her? As I’m about to barge in, Ethan’s voice comes low and venomous. “You don’t have a fucking choice, babygirl.” Bryn coughs, and the sound sends a shiver through me. Is he choking her?

Footsteps approach the door, and I panic, darting into the bathroom and pretending to step out just as Ethan walks into the hallway. He stops and locks eyes with me; a sweet-as-honey smile that he does so well appears on his lips, and I feel a shiver.

“What are you doing, princess?” His tone is like honey, but it makes my skin crawl.

“Just… using the bathroom, and now I’m going to make dinner with Dante.” I throw Dante’s name to remind him I’m not alone here. We aren’t alone; for some reason, Ethan is the only guy here I still don’t feel safe with.

He tilts his head to the side. He is trying to catch a lie, to see if I give any signs, but I stand my ground, a soft smile on my lips. He nods and heads to the stairs, his steps echoing on the steel chairs as he climbs up.

I release a breath but startle when I hear the door close. I look up and see Bryn walking out and rubbing her neck.

“Is everything okay?” I ask softly, stepping toward her and gently taking her hand away from her neck, revealing red marks on her skin.

“Yeah, of course.” Her words wavers.

“Bryn, honey, you know you can tell me anything, right?” I press, hoping she’ll open up, but she just nods, forces a smile, and walks upstairs.

I sigh; I feel like I’m in a losing battle when it comes to Bryn and Ethan. I should talk with the guys, maybe ask Knox to keep Ethan away from her for a while, but things are tense enough already.

I walk upstairs, my hands feeling ice cold, as they always do when I’m feeling nervous. I reach the kitchen, and Dante is prepping dinner, so I grab a knife and start chopping vegetables to keep my mind busy, but I feel his eyes on me.

“What’s wrong? You look tense, doll.” His tone is soft yet commanding, making my breath hitch.

“Nothing. Just a small headache,” I lie, shrugging it off.

He doesn’t push, but I can tell by his face that he isn’t convinced.

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