Page 103 of Kept

I choke.

I’m going to fuckingmurderRyder.

38 – Zella

Stretchingoutinthelate afternoon sun, I turn my face up to the light. It feels warm against my skin, even through the hooded sweatshirt Maverick insisted I wear when he caught me sneaking out of the front door, sketchbook and pens in hand.

The weather is getting colder now, but I relish in every shiver as the cool breeze passes over my body. I’ll never get tired of this sensation.

Closing my eyes, I take in the orange light left by the sun through my eyelids. A shadow falls over it, and my lips twist into a grin as warm lips seal over mine.

Ryder cups my cheeks as he presses me back into the sun lounger, his tongue sliding between my lips in a way that mimics exactly what we were doing this morning.

I’m breathless when he pulls away, his brown eyes warm as he kneels in front of me and slides his hands up my legs. “How are your bruises, little thief?”

I roll my eyes. They barely even count as bruises, whatever Maverick muttered as he was rubbing cream into them the other day.

“Fine.” I tug up the dress I’m wearing, showing him the slight yellow marks that still dot my skin. “They’re almost gone.”

And I’m about ready for some new ones. It’s been a wholeweek. I think I’ll sleep with Maverick tonight. I’ve spent the last week bouncing from room to room.

Frowning, I glance down at the sketch in my hand. Maverick, Enzo, and Ryder, all of them covered by a small amount of bedsheet and nothing else. Ryder gently tugs the book from me, and I blanch, trying to grab it back.

He whistles. Is it possible for my face to actually catch on fire? “Holy fuck, princess. You have averyvivid imagination.”

I’m not sure what the noise is that erupts from my throat, but Ryder throws his head back in a laugh, taking pity and giving me back the sketchbook. Flipping it closed before I can get myself into more trouble, I reluctantly stand up and make to head inside.

His hand grips my wrist, and I turn my head away. “Princess. Hey, look at me.”

I slide my eyes to him, and he rubs his thumb over the pulse in my wrist. “Nothing to be embarrassed about. In fact, this feels like a good time to show you something we’ve been working on.”

He slides his hand down, entwining our fingers together as he tugs me along in his enthusiasm. Curiosity pulls at me as we walk into the house and he stops, pulling open the dungeon door and yelling down. “I’m showing her!”

We wait for a second, and then there’s a response. “Don’t you fucking dare!”

I blink. “I don’t think Enzo wants me to see…whatever this is.”

Considering how open he was to me discovering his little torture-murder secret, I’m starting to get a bit worried about what exactlythisis.

Maverick yanks open his study door. “Did I hear shouting?”

By this time, I’m chewing my lip. Enzo comes bounding up the stairs, a snarl on his face. “It’s not ready,” he snaps at Ryder, and he shrugs.

“Close enough.”

Maverick sighs. “Enzo is right. We talked about this, Ry.”

Ryder ignores them, tugging me towards the stairs as they follow. “Well, our timeline got moved up. Our little princess is getting itchy feet.”

I swivel my head between them. “What does that mean?”

“You’ll find out,” Ryder promises. Maverick and Enzo overtake us as we reach the top of the stairs, and Ryder shouts after them as they disappear. “Chop chop, ladies! Thirty second warning.”

“The more you open your mouth, the more worried I’m getting,” I mutter, and he spins around, caging me against the wall.

“Good surprise,” he promises, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek. “I swear.”

I’m withholding judgment. Yesterday, he made me sit through hours of a movie about little furry creatures, men in white dresses and aliens that go to war against each other with shiny light sticks, swearing that it was the best movie ever made. I fell asleep after the first one, and he didn’t even notice.

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