Ours (Blood Ties Book 3)

She was gone when I woke up and, for a second, in that cruel silence where one beat of my heart replaced the next, my mind played tricks on me. Maybe it was all just a dream? Her, us…the Hell we’d descended into and somehow crawled out of. Caleb. Nick…Dad. Panic filled me. The kind that was…crushing. I winced and shifted in the bed, and as I did, it all came rushing back.

The pain…

And the terror.

And her.

I closed my eyes and released a moan. A sickening wave of pain bored through my thigh, making me quake. My hands dropped to the sides of the bed and gripped the cold steel rails. But I wanted the agony…no, I fucking hungered for it. Hungered until I was sick with need.

I opened my mouth to scream her name.

Her name…

Always her goddamn name, resounding.

LITTLE MOUSE!

The terror cracked—and the door opened…and she stepped through, carrying a plate of food. One I didn’t even see. My throat thickened and tears threatened to blur her face. I pushed them away because I couldn’t waste a second, not one fucking beat.

All I saw was her. Her messy hair. The dark circles under her eyes. The haunted gleam in those gray-blue eyes, and the mark on her cheek that was paler than it should be.

She hadn’t slept, I knew that with one fleeting look. Not wedged between my brothers, or curled under my arm. Had she eaten? Had she—she met my stare and froze. “Tobias?” The crease deepened between her brows. “You okay?”

I licked my lips, my breaths furious. “Yeah,” I nodded. “I’m okay.”

“Hey.” She forced a smile.

My voice was husky as I gave her a weak smile. “Hey.”

Don’t let her see you panicking, she’ll only worry more. Just touch her, smell her. Hold her and tell her it’s all going to be okay—

“I figured you’d be hungry.”

I swallowed the burn in the back of my throat. “Starving.”

Heavier footsteps thudded, not Nick’s…or C’s. I scowled as the familiar male came into the room. The damn doctor? How the fuck did we get here? First Dad…and now this. Jealousy slammed into me as I looked at Ryth, then him. I tried not to think about the guy around my stepsister as he strode closer, not missing a fucking beat.

“How’s my patient today?”

Patient?

I looked around, taking in the machines and the medical equipment. “Where are we?”

The doctor pulled the sheet from my legs. “Safe.”

Safe…

I slowly exhaled, met Ryth’s concerned stare, and nodded. Safe…she was safe. I didn’t look away when cold air caressed my legs, or when he lifted the back of my knee to remove the dressing around my thigh. I just fixed my sight on her.

“How’s the pain?” he asked.

“Manageable.”

I caught the rise of his brow. ‘Tough guy, huh?”

But I didn’t care what he said. The last thing I needed was to be slow when they came. Because they were coming, and when they did, I needed to be ready. Instead, I shifted my focus to the light blush of blood on the bandage. At least that was under control.

“Then I take it you don’t want anything to dull the pain you don’t have?”

“That’s right.” I stared at the doctor, then shifted my gaze to the doorway as my brothers stepped inside and took one look at me, then at my damn thigh.

“T.” Nick met my gaze.

I just gave a nod and clenched my fist around the edge of the bed when the asshole started prodding.

“Ryth, grab some of those gauze squares over there, Kit will show you which ones. And you’ll need the Betadine, as well.”

I flinched, watching as a young black woman crossed the room behind him and started pulling out drawers. Who the fuck are you? I wanted to ask, but I was more concerned with the way Ryth was taking control, grabbing the dressings the young woman handed her, as well as the bottle of antiseptic, before turning to the other side of the bed.

One look at my brothers, and I could see they were equally as stunned. As the doc gave her instructions, our sister set to work. I didn’t flinch when she gently cleaned the angry red wound on my thigh, didn’t looked away, just watched her, amazed at how careful she was.

“Damn.” The doc leaned close, looking at her work. “You’re a natural.”

She flinched at the words, and the mark on her cheek turned even paler than it was before. “And I didn’t even have to be on my knees,” she mumbled.

Caleb looked away, drawing my gaze. Something had happened between them, something I wasn’t privy to. What the hell did that mean, C? I clenched my jaw, willing the bastard to look at me. What…the…fuck…did…that… mean?

“Perfect. You can use this Tegaderm dressing, then you just follow the same process tomorrow. You good with that?”

“Yes,” Ryth answered.

She was so proud of herself, straightening her spine, jutting her chin in the air. She looked my way and all I wanted to do was crawl inside her head and find every little thing I didn’t know about. Especially what had happened in that place.

“You must be hungry.” The doc interrupted my thoughts.

“I have food.” Ryth grabbed the plate and handed it my way.

But I couldn’t stomach the shit, not when I was starved for her goddamn demons. I wanted to kill those men who hurt her, consume all her terror and her pain. More than anything, I wanted to protect her from anyone else who tried to tear her away.

“T?” she murmured carefully, that smile falling fast.

I took the plate, giving her a wink. “This looks perfect, little mouse.” And I forced myself to eat, chewing and swallowing, but all the while, I was fixed on that seething darkness. I wanted to know what had happened in that place—I glanced at Caleb—and I wanted to punch my brother in the goddamn mouth for almost getting us killed…or worse, used.

They could’ve used her.

Could’ve made her wear…red.

“T?”

I jerked my gaze to Nick, who looked at me strangely. “Yeah?”

“The doc was asking if you felt strong enough for a shower and a more comfortable bed.”

I just nodded, my focus slipping to Caleb across the room. The fucker felt it, too, glancing my way before scowling. “I’ll, ah, give you some space,” he muttered. “Glad you’re feeling better, T.”

I clenched my jaw, forcing the words between my teeth. “You sure about that, brother?”

Because he sure as fuck wouldn’t be for long.

He left, and the tension in the room became awkward.

“I can give you some painkillers that won’t make you drowsy, how about that?” the doc asked.

I just stared at the door Caleb had left through and nodded.

“Ryth,” he called, gesturing her to the drawers filled with drugs.

I turned to her, took the pills she offered, and put them in my mouth before swallowing them with the glass of water she gave me.

“Okay, then let’s get you into the bathroom.”

My body howled the moment I moved, but I gripped the sides and pulled myself up.

“You can lean on me.” Ryth held me steady as I sat for a moment. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and leaned on her while I slowly tried to rise.

Sparks ignited behind my eyes the moment my foot touched the floor. My thigh clenched, driving the agony deeper. I sucked in hard breaths, gripping her tight. She didn’t flinch, didn’t move. She was a goddamn tower of strength, supporting my weight as I limped toward the door.

Step by step, we left them behind and made our way toward the open door at the end of the hall. Once we were inside, it was just her and me.

“I’ll help you into the shower.”

I nodded. “Thanks.”

By the time I’d reached the bathroom, I wanted to vomit from the pain. How fucking long did those painkillers take to kick in? I almost regretted not asking for something stronger, until I remembered… then I made peace with the agony stabbing through my thigh.

Ryth flicked the light on, holding me as I limped to the sink. I gripped the vanity and slowly lifted my gaze to the haunted fucking face in the mirror. “Jesus,” I groaned. “I look like fucking hell.”

“You look like you’ve been shot and walked around with a bullet still in your thigh, that’s how you look,” she muttered as she stepped into the shower stall and turned on the water.

Then she turned to me and our gazes connected in the reflection.

A bullet I’d carried around to save her.

We didn’t need the words to hear the truth. There was that flicker of pain in her eyes once more. “I wish you’d told me.”

“I don’t.”

The muscles of her jaw flexed and that fire in her eyes burned brighter. Fuck, she was pretty when she was angry. A nod of her head, and she exhaled hard and slow. “You’re starting to learn, little mouse.”

There was a hint of a smile, just a little one. At least she’d kept her sense of humor. Steam drifted from the shower, making me take a step forward.

“Let me help.” She moved closer and dropped to her knees, and I couldn’t help but feel fucking tuned on. The way she reached up, grabbed my boxers, and tugged them down, was hot as hell.

I reached up, yanked my shirt over my head, and dropped it to the floor as she rose. Her breath caught and a moan tore free. “Tobias…” she whispered.

I didn’t stop, just limped forward. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

But I caught the movement before the faint brush of her fingers on my back. “This doesn’t hurt?”

A throb came at her touch, low, aching, hitting all the trigger points. I swallowed and shook my head, not trusting myself to speak.

But she knew. “I’m helping you.”

That throb seemed to travel upwards and lodge in the back of my throat. I let her step into the stall with me, let her run her fingers along my shoulders as I turned and faced her. Her wide eyes took in every scratch and every mark. I was a mess…I knew that, but it was the kind of hurt I’d feel a thousand times over for her. Didn’t she know that by now?

She stepped out, grabbed a clean washcloth from the vanity, and stepped back in, soaking it before she grabbed the soap. Silence filled the space. The heat thrummed against my shoulders and her hands lulled me into a sense of comfort I hadn’t felt in a while…not since they took her.

Not since they—

Sodden strands of hair stuck to the side of her face. I brushed them away as she ran the cloth over my chest and under my arms, nearing the deep bruising over my ribs. “This has to hurt,” she whispered.

“Not when I’m looking at you.”

Her cheeks blushed before she looked away.

“You can look, Ryth.” My voice turned husky. “You can touch, you can do anything you want with me.”

Fuck if that wasn’t too close to the goddamn truth.

Anything she wanted.

Fuck me.

Hit me.

Hate me…

Just never leave me. Not again. Not ever again…

“Head back,” she demanded, squeezing a clump of shampoo into her palm, a little surer of herself now.

I smiled and did as she commanded, letting the heat sluice through my clipped hair. She had to stretch, her body grazing mine as she rose on her toes and wobbled. It was instinct to grab her, but fucking hunger to pull her against me.

I grew hard with the friction. Christ, I wanted to be inside her, to feel the stretch her pretty little pussy gave as she adjusted. The memory of the diner rose, her hands braced against the sink, me fucking nailing her from behind.

Still, it wasn’t enough.

It’d never be enough.

My little taste of the forbidden.

I stared into her eyes as she gently worked the shampoo in and rinsed my head.

She was my stepsister.

No, our stepsister.

At least my father did this one thing right before he died. “Fuck, I missed this.”

She met my gaze, sinking back down off her toes. “Me, too.”

“We’re never going back there,” I said as desperation rose. “Not to our home or our life. Everything will be new from now on, you, me…us.”

“I’m sorry about Creed.”

I winced and looked away. “I’m not. He did it to himself.”

“Will you tell me what happened?”

I stiffened and thought about lying to her, or telling her I didn’t know. But there were too many lies and half-truths. I didn’t want that between us. “Elle killed him right in front of me.”

“My m-mom?”

Fuck, I hated the tremble in her voice. That sting. That…betrayal all over again. “Yeah, your mom.”

“When?” Her breathing deepened.

I met her stare, scowling. “When they took you.”

She was silent, thinking. “She ran, didn’t she? She was running.”

“Yeah, she ran.”

Ryth lifted her hand and cupped her cheek. “She was breathless when I saw her, panicked, her eyes wide. Then she hit me.”

“She hit you?” I grew cold.

There was a nod and she met my stare. “Then she let them take me. They told me…” she looked away. “Never mind.”

But I wasn’t about to let this go. I captured her chin and turned her face toward me. “Tell me.”

With a glint of fear in her stare, she answered. “They told me that my father wasn’t my father.”

Her innocence will be the very thing that makes her perfect for them. I need her perfect, because I’m backed into a corner, and I’m holding her out in front of me, hoping they’ll take her instead.

Those fucking words roared back to me. Words that made me sick to my stomach. Words I wanted to beat with bloody fists from my mind. But I couldn’t, because I knew the woman who’d written them.

Give her up. Elle’s voice filled me, chilling me to the bone. She’s as good as dead anyway.

She’s as good as dead…

As good as dead…

As good as—

“He’s your father, Ryth.”

Hope filled her stare. “He is?”

I eased my grip on her chin and grazed my callused fingers along her jaw, catching drops of water on the way. “Blood means fucking nothing. You should know that by now.”

She did. I knew she did. This woman standing in front of me wasn’t the kid our parents dumped in our house anymore. No, she was stronger, harder. She was ours.

Ryth swallowed the pain and nodded. “You’re right. Fuck what they say.”

I smiled. “That’s it, baby, fuck what they say.”

I dropped my hand, reached around, and hit the tap, ending the spray. Water ran in rivulets down my chest, drawing her gaze. I saw her desire, saw the moment her breaths deepened, and that perfect fucking mark on her cheek blushed.

“You want to touch me, little mouse?”

Her eyes darted to mine and she nodded. I stood there with the cold closing in, making my damn leg shake. Still, I didn’t let her see that. My nipples tightened. She liked that, brushing her soft fingers across my chest. A tremor rippled through me. Fuck, she was dangerous. She was so fucking dangerous and she didn’t have a goddamn clue.

No one got this close to me.

Not even blood.

She stepped closer and lowered her head. Her warm tongue brushed my nipple, making me close my eyes. My pulse thundered, booming in my goddamn ears. But she lifted her head with barely more than a lick and stepped backwards, reaching for the towel instead.

“I’m taking care of you, Tobias.” There was a sternness in her tone.

Tobias?

Okay…

The corners of my lips tugged up as she dragged the towel across my body. But I knew what she was doing, masking the exploration of my body with this need to comfort and care for me.

“Arms up,” she muttered.

That birthmark grew a little redder as I did, letting her run the towel down over my hard muscles and grazed skin. She winced at every cut, and her nostrils flared as she gently dried over the bruise. “I’ll get you to the bed.”

I gave a nod, leaned on her, and limped out of the bathroom. Agony drove deep, causing me to stumble and fall onto the bed. I hit hard and lay there, catching my breath. Then I inched backwards, drawing my legs onto the bed.

“I’m sorry,” she moaned.

I forced a smile through the pain. “It’s not your fault, princess.” I patted the bed. “Climb up.”

“I’m dripping.”

The words only made me grin. I opened my eyes, finding her standing beside the bed, and patted the mattress, this time more softly. “Show me.” She shook her head, but she didn’t leave. No. She didn’t leave. She was thinking about it. “I want to see what you showed Nick that day in the car.”

That blush deepened.

Fuck.

“When you were in his Mustang, leaning your head back, your fingers in that—” I licked my lips and lowered my gaze. “That perfect cunt.”

“T…” she whispered.

She liked it when I talked like that, liked it more than she wanted to. “A good girl who likes her cunt looked at.”

She bit her lip, dragging those teeth across the soft, plump flesh. Then she moved, climbing onto the bed with my brother’s t-shirt stuck against her breasts.

“Take the shirt off.” I dragged my gaze over her. Her tiny puckered nipples tightened as I spoke.

She glanced toward the door.

“No one’s gonna come in, Ryth. No one who doesn’t want a taste of you, at least.”

She trembled at those words. Her fingers were shaking as she dragged the sodden shirt off and let it drop beside the bed. I lowered my gaze to the equally wet boxers she wore. “Pants, princess.”

Her gaze was fixed on mine as she reached down. Fuck, her skin was so perfect, her cute plump ass, the softness between her thighs. Any other man would only see flaws—for a second, until I gouged his fucking eyes out at least.

But not me…or my brothers.

She let the pants drop onto the shirt and hugged her body.

I fought every urge inside me to crawl across the bed toward her. I wanted to cage her in with my body and part those sweet thighs. I wanted to ram my cock home and make her buck in ecstasy. I wanted to hear my name on a shuddered breath.

“Show me, princess. Show me how my brother took care of you in that fucking place.”

She flinched, her eyes widening. “You know?”

“I know him,” I answered, even if the ache of betrayal was there. “I know the guilt would eat him alive. I also know he’d channel that guilt into the only thing he could, and that’s taking care of you.”

Pain raged in her stare. I hated the turmoil inside her, hated seeing her battling her own demons because of what my brother did when he delivered her to them.

“I would’ve wanted him to,” I added. “If he hadn’t taken care of you, then that’d make this a thousand times harder. So I’m glad he was there. I’m glad he took care of you.”

“You are?”

I nodded, lowering my gaze to her thighs. “Yeah, princess. I am. Now, show me. Show me how he took care of you.”

That excitement returned, making her slowly lower her hand until her fingers pushed against her mound. I eased back against the pillows, pulling them up higher as she slowly parted her thighs, showing me a glimpse of pink. “Jesus, that’s it.” I was riveted by the way she danced her fingers over her lips, sinking in to the top of her slit. “Part yourself, baby. I want to see your clit.”

That tiny nub peeked out as she slid two fingers down and splayed them. I divided my focus, unable to know where to look, from the shine in her eyes, to the hard rise of her chest, or those thin fingers dancing around the center of her pleasure.

Slow. So fucking slow. I watched her embarrassment give way to tiny jolts of desire. Around and around she skirted, before she slowly slid down and slipped a finger in.

Jesus…

My cock jolted watching her knuckle come away wet. “You wet for me, baby?”

She nodded.

“Then show me.” I lowered my gaze to her pussy and reached for my cock. “Show me how you come.”

She sank two fingers in this time and I had to bite back a moan, gripping my shaft instead. Her nipples tightened with the arch of her back. She braced her other hand behind her, gripping the edge of the mattress while she rode her fingers.

“Fuck yourself,” I growled, driving my own fist down. I didn’t want my own touch, all I wanted was to see her drip all over the fucking comforter. But I ached for the release.

Her eyes fluttered closed as momentum took her, stealing her away for a moment at least. Until, with a buck of her hips, she cried out, her fingers still inside.

“Open,’ I grunted. “Open your fucking thighs, Ryth.”

She did, letting herself gape open. Creamy come coated the tips of her fingers. I released my hold and shoved forward, ignoring the roaring agony as I grabbed her hand, pulled her toward me, then slowly slipped her fingers into my mouth.

Salty.

Sweet.

I chased the taste with my tongue and sucked before easing my hold. “Mine,” I reminded her. “Your come, your pussy, your fucking heart.”

She eased forward, staring into my eyes. “As are you, brother.” She pulled away and slowly eased down.

Her hand wrapped around my cock. I lowered my gaze, watching as she wrapped those lips around the head of my cock and licked before sucking. “Fuck, little mouse.” My groan was husky.

I already wanted to come. I wanted to fill every fucking hole until she was sated.

Until I was sated.

She sucked, driving her fist down to hit the base. I drove my fingers through her hair, cupped her head, and pushed her down. “Take it, little sister. Open your mouth and take your brother’s cock.”

Fuck, she did.

Stretching her mouth wide, saliva dripped from the corners as her head bounced. The veins kicked as warmth spurted. I held her there, sucking in hard breaths, using her mouth in the most delicious way. She didn’t fight, didn’t gag, didn’t jostle my thigh, like a good fucking girl.

I groaned and released my hold, letting her rise and lick her lips before falling against the mattress beside me.

“Jesus, baby,” I groaned, dropping back against the pillows. “Jesus.”

She curled her body against me, tucking in when I lifted my arm. “Did I hurt you?” she asked.

I shook my head. “No, baby. You could never hurt me.”

But she could, with barely a word. But I shoved that fear away, willing myself back to reality, and closed my eyes. I’d just sleep, just a little…then I’d fucking destroy that pussy of hers…

And she’d destroy me. One. Fucking. Swallow at a time.