Sweet Obsession (Ruthless Games Book 1)

The smoke is pouring from the canisters, spewing into the room so fast that I can no longer see Carson.

“Fuck!” Dom roars again.

And then another crash sounds. This one is louder and heavier than the first. It wasn’t a window. It was a door.

A heavy grunt comes from somewhere in front of me, and the sharp pop of a gunshot makes my stomach turn to ice. The sound resonates through my head, summoning memories of a night that’s haunted me for two and a half years, and my body jerks involuntarily, as if it’s already feeling the force of a bullet.

But the bullet doesn’t hit me. Did it hit anyone? Fuck, I can’t see shit.

My heart thuds erratically in my chest as shouts fill the room.

Two more gunshots go off, and a harsh cry rises up. The room darkens, as if one of the light bulbs overhead got shot out or hit by a stray bullet.

Panic surges inside me. I struggle against my binds with everything I have, twisting my body as I strain against the thick duct tape. My bodyweight overbalances, and the chair topples sideways, sending me crashing to the ground. Pain shoots through my shoulders as my arms jerk painfully behind me, and I cry out.

A second later, a hand slips over my mouth. My entire body bucks, and I bite down hard in panic.

Someone hisses in pain, and a voice near my ear whispers quickly, “Rose, it’s me. We’ve got you.”

Theo.

My mind can hardly even process what I’m hearing. How is he here? How did they find me?

A sharp blade severs the tape binding my biceps, and a second later, my legs are freed. My shocked, drug-addled body can barely support its own weight, but Theo drags me up anyway, practically carrying me with an arm around my waist.

“Let’s go!” His voice rises up above the clamor and chaos and smoke that fill the room, and another shot rings out. I swear I can feel the bullet whizz past our heads, and Theo ducks, pinning me closer to his body as he grunts. “Fuck.”

He drags me through the thick smoke, shoving a door open with his shoulder. Then we’re outside the room, moving down a hallway. It’s clearer of smoke out here, although a haze still hangs in the air, and the hallway is dark and shadowed, making everything look ghostly and surreal. A second later, another figure bursts from the door behind us, firing back into the room.

“Go!” Marcus yells over his shoulder at Theo, practically running backward as he keeps the gun in his hand trained on the open doorway. “Fucking go!”

I turn my focus forward just in time to see steps rise up out of the darkness ahead of us, and then we’re charging up them, my feet stumbling and shuffling as I try to get my tingling limbs to work.

I was right. It is some kind of old house, long-abandoned from the looks of it. I catch flashes of shadowy bare walls and dusty light fixtures as we race through the empty rooms. When we burst out into the cool night, the flare of headlights nearly blinds me, and a new wave of dizziness makes dark spots dance at the edge of my vision as Marcus crashes through the door behind us.

An engine revs, and tires squeal. I’m shoved gracelessly into the back seat of a car, and then we’re peeling out, doors slamming shut even as the vehicle is already in motion.

Loud shouts rise up behind us, and more gunshots follow. There’s a metallic ping as one hits the side of the car, and Theo curses, sticking his hand out the window to fire back.

I slide across the soft leather seat as we whip around a corner, smashing my head against the side door as I bring my arm up to try to protect myself. Several long pieces of gray tape still cling to my bicep, where the skin is red and angry from the tight pressure of the binds.

“Motherfucker. Ayla, are you all right?”

Theo hauls me up, his free hand grabbing my shoulders roughly as his gaze darts over my body, scanning me for injuries. The car is still driving fast and erratically, tearing down an empty road with its headlights off now. I don’t know where we are, but what little I can see of the dark scenery flying by outside isn’t familiar—it’s a part of Halston I don’t know.

“Carson’s car is fucked, so he won’t be able to follow us right away. But we need to get the fuck off the road. Take the left up there,” Marcus says. He’s in the front passenger seat, and Ryland is in the driver’s seat.

The stoic man grunts as he slows the car slightly and cranks the wheel, whipping us around another corner. I slide across the seat again, and Theo tightens his grip to steady me, still staring at me with wild blue-green eyes. “Are you okay? What the hell did he do to you?”

“Why the fuck did you leave my house?” Marcus turns to look at me, fury blazing in his eyes.

“Maybe because you didn’t tell her why she should stay!” Theo snaps at him. “If you’d told her why it mattered, maybe she would’ve stayed where it was safe.”

“You don’t think I was trying to keep her safe?” Marcus’s gaze whips up to Theo, something dangerous and feral lurking in his tone.

It’s the first time I’ve heard true anger in the way these men speak to each other, and it jerks me out of my shock a little. Half my brain still feels like it’s back in that basement with Carson and Dom, trying to figure out a way to free myself from my restraints. Too much has happened in too short of a time, and it feels like I’m about to spin out.

“Safe. From. What?”

The words are harsh. My throat feels ragged and raw.

The sound of my voice drags both men’s attention back to me. Ryland is still focused on the road ahead, taking us who-the-fuck-knows-where at a speed that makes me think he should’ve been the goddamn race car driver.

Marcus’s face hardens as he stares at me, his lips pressing into a line, and I realize with a sudden tightening of my chest that he’s not going to tell me.

Even now, after every fucking thing.

He’s not going to tell me the truth.

“You son of a bitch!”

I launch myself toward him, heedless of the fact that we’re in a speeding vehicle, heedless of the fact that my arms and legs still tingle numbly. I may only have one hand, but that’s all I need to scratch his fucking eyes out.

Marcus jerks away, and Theo wraps an arm around me, hauling me backward until I’m sprawled awkwardly on his lap. I elbow him in the side and lunge forward again, my heart slamming against my ribs as something powerful and uncontrollable rises up in me.

“You lied!” I scream, grappling one-handed to try to reach the front seat. “You fucking lied to me! About everything. Who the fuck are you?”

Anger cascades through me like burning oil. I’m furious at Marcus—at all of them—but I’m just as pissed at myself.

How could I have been so goddamn stupid? After years of numbness, I felt something when Marcus touched me, when he looked at me. I felt a strange connection to all three of them. And I let those feelings override every scrap of common sense I have, every harsh lesson the world has taught me about putting trust where it doesn’t belong.

And now I’m paying the price for it.

The hot, buzzing feeling inside me doesn’t go away. It just keeps getting stronger and stronger, building up inside me like air in a balloon, pressing against my skin until I feel like I might explode.

I can’t contain it.

I can’t control it.

Loud pop pop pop sounds keep echoing in my ears, and I know they’re not real. They’re not gunshots. There’s no one shooting at us now. But the noises keep echoing, and my body seems to jerk with each one.

“You said you wouldn’t tolerate lies? Everything you told me was a fucking lie! Why? Why? I trusted you!” I shriek at Marcus, elbowing Theo again. I catch him in the jaw this time, and he lets out a pained grunt, his head snapping to the side. “I cared about you!”

The words fly past my lips before I can stop them, and I hate that I just admitted it out loud.

He doesn’t deserve that from me. It shouldn’t be fucking true.

Theo’s grip on me loosens, and I manage to make it halfway into the front seat, still partly splayed across his lap. My ruined arm clutches at the back of Marcus’s seat, jolts of pain shooting down my forearm into fingers I no longer have. My other hand curls into a fist, connecting with his face just above his jawline.

“Fuck.” Marcus curses, grabbing my wrist tightly before I can hit him again. Dozens of things filter through his multicolored eyes, but I’m too overcome by my own wild emotions to identify any of his.

I grapple against his hold on me, kicking against Theo too. Then my whole body lurches forward as Ryland hits the brakes hard and we come to a sudden stop.

“We’re here.” His voice is hard, almost robotic. “Get her inside.”

Something about his words get her inside, coupled with the fresh and visceral memory of waking up tied to a chair, makes the panic inside me explode into true terror.

I don’t know these men at all. I was kidding myself if I thought I did. They pulled me out of Carson’s confinement and practically carried me out of the house. But how do I know they didn’t just steal me away so they could use me exactly like he planned to?

As bait.

As a pawn.

Theo pushes the car door open, tightening his grip on me as he drags me out of the car and up a short flight of stairs. A door opens, and I’m in another house, this one newer and less dusty than the first.

The heavy wooden front door slams shut as overhead lights switch on, and I can feel both Marcus and Ryland standing close by.

I shove hard at Theo’s chest, wedging my hand between us and pushing with all my strength. He releases me and takes a step back to join his friends, his hands raised as if to say he won’t hurt me—or maybe he’s just holding them up to catch me if I fall.

There’s a real possibility that might happen. My legs shake like pieces of string, but I lock my knees to try to stay upright, my breaths coming in choppy gasps as I turn to meet Marcus’s gaze. “Let me go.”

“No.”

“Let me go!”

“I’m not gonna do that, angel.”

“Yes, you fucking will.”

I move to shove past him, but he wraps an arm around me, hauling me against his body. His arms are like steel, and unlike Theo, he doesn’t give even an inch when I push hard against him. I can feel his heart pounding in his chest, nearly matching the wild tempo of mine, and his lips brush against my ear as the tight cage of his body makes it almost impossible to breathe.

“I can’t,” he murmurs. “I’ll never let you go.”

The words echo in my head like ripples spreading across a pond, and I clutch at his forearms, scraping my nails over the skin of his arms, his fingers, his knuckles—as if I could erase the events of one fateful night just by gouging out the date tattooed on his skin.

I’ll never let you go.

The present bleeds into the past as my mind shuts down completely, blurry dreams mixing with the memories until I no longer know what’s real and what’s not.

My body feels cold. Wet.

Blood covers my skin.

I’m bleeding out, dying slowly on the dirty pavement outside an alley.

“Fuck, what’s wrong with her?”

It’s Ryland’s voice. He doesn’t sound like a robot anymore. He sounds terrified. And so far away.

Just like that night, their voices are fading away into nothingness, sinking into an ocean of blackness. My chest hurts. My hand tingles. I try to move the fingers of my right hand, but I can’t.

“She’s having a flashback or something. Dammit. Goddammit. You’re okay, angel. You’re all right. We’re here.”

I can feel Marcus’s voice, but I can barely hear it.

For several months after I was shot, I grappled with vicious panic attacks and flashbacks that seemed to rise up like tidal waves and drag me under. But it’s been over a year since I’ve had one. Since I’ve lost myself like this. Since the darkness has swallowed me whole.

I’m vaguely aware of being picked up, lifted into the air and carried down a hallway, and then I’m laid down on my back in a dark room.

Marcus’s face hovers above mine, framed on either side by Theo’s and Ryland’s.

Just like that night. Just like in my dreams.

In my dreams, Marcus always fucks me in a pool of my own blood, melding pleasure and pain, death and life. In my dreams, I can feel him trying to save me, trying to claim me.

To not let death take me.

I’ll never let you go.

I’m dying all over again, the same way I died that night. Because a part of me did die, no matter how many doctors have told me I was a miracle for surviving. I felt it happen. When the three faces above me faded from sight, melting away into the darkness, part of me died.

I don’t want to die again.

I want to live. I want them to save me.

Delirious, trapped between what’s real and what’s not, I reach for Marcus, wrapping my legs around him and pulling him closer, grinding my hips against his. His eyes flare wide, and I feel him harden against me, responding to the feel of my body instantly.

I gasp as his cock presses into my clit, the good feelings that spiral through me burning away the bad ones for a brief second.

More. More of that.

I circle my hips against his, and heat burns fiercely in his eyes, lighting up the brown and blue of his irises.

“Please!” I gasp. My voice is still a breathy wheeze, too little oxygen filtering in with each swell of my lungs.

“What do you need, angel?” he rasps.

I don’t answer with words. I just show him, tightening my legs around his hips and rocking against him, driving myself closer to a ledge I need to fly off of.

He groans. “Oh, Christ.”

His cocks pulses against me, and I can practically feel how hard and angry it is, how thick and hungry. I need him inside me. I need him to break me. It’s the only way to let the poison out, to keep me from dying.

“Please,” I beg again.

And I don’t know if it’s because he can’t deny me or because he can’t deny himself, but he gives me what I want.

He forces my legs apart enough to draw back from me a little, and his hands drop to the button of my jeans. He works my zipper down, then yanks my pants off my legs, tugging my panties off too.

I’m wet.

Not just from the blood that seeps from my body in my memory, but between my legs. Arousal drips from my pussy, turning cold on my thighs as Marcus stares down at me, towering over me like an avenging angel.

Or a devil come to life.

His jaw clenches as he roughly undoes his own pants and shoves them down on his hips. The two other man stand sentry behind him near the side of the bed, and just like in the garage that day, their gazes are rooted to us. Locked on us. Heat burns in their eyes, and neither one of them makes any move to leave, or even to look away.

I don’t want them to.

They’re supposed to be here. Just like this. It’s always been all three of them.

When they leave, a part of me dies.

Marcus fists his dick, which is already swollen and pulsing a deep purple. When he hooks his arm under my knee and pulls me closer, lining up the fat head of his cock with my entrance, I don’t know if he’s planning to save me or ruin me.

Not that it matters.

They’re one and the same.

He thrusts roughly inside me, and I cry out, momentarily dragged out of the half-dream state that grips me, shocked back to the present by the rush of sensation. He grunts, draping his body over mine and burying his face in the crook of my neck like he’s trying to lose himself in me too.

My dazed eyes find Theo and Ryland as I cling to Marcus, and I can’t seem to look away from them. Pleasure is building inside me already, filling my body with an electric current, bringing me back from the dead. Without thinking, I reach for the two of them, needing something, needing… more.

Ryland’s body goes rigid, and while he doesn’t look away from the sight of his friend fucking me into the bed, he doesn’t move any closer.

Theo licks his lips, indecision and need warring in his features. Marcus shifts the angle of his cock a little, hitting a new spot inside me, and I whimper, my eyelids fluttering and drooping. But I won’t let them close. Forcing them to stay open, I keep my gaze locked on Theo, my hand still outstretched to him.

And suddenly, like a rubber band snapping, he strides forward and takes it.

He crawls up onto the bed beside us, gripping my wrist tightly and bringing my fingertips to his lips. He slides one finger into his mouth, his tongue swirling over the tip of it. A thousand hot sparks dance down my arm, lighting up my entire body. I clamp my bottom lip between my teeth as Marcus bites down on the skin of my shoulder.

I’m almost there.

So close.

So fucking close to being whole again.

My gaze drops from Theo’s face to his torso, and I realize with a sudden jolt that a patch of red stains his sleeve. The bullet that whizzed by us earlier didn’t miss us. It grazed his arm. Even in this shadowy, dimly lit room, it’s impossible to mistake the bloodstain. A few more inches to the right, and…

My stomach clenches at the thought, fear for him joining the pleasure spiraling through me. I drag my finger from his mouth and fist the front of his shirt, pulling him down toward me.

Marcus is still devouring the skin of my neck and shoulder as Theo claims my lips in a kiss.

It’s everything I remembered. It’s warmth and want and light. It’s the perfect contrast to the man driving into me, and Theo fucks my mouth with his tongue in a counterpoint to Marcus’s furious cock.

I clamor for more of his taste, for his dark cherry and oak smell, sliding my tongue against his and panting into his mouth as I thread my fingers through the thick strands of his blond hair.

At the edge of the bed, Ryland grunts, a pained and almost desperate sound as he watches his friends devour me.

And it’s that sound that hurls me over the edge.

My pussy tightens convulsively around Marcus’s driving cock, forcing his thrusts to become choppy and shallow. Theo drinks in my ragged cries, swallowing down every one of them as he kisses me over and over. Then Marcus roars out his release, slamming into me so hard the entire bed shakes.

It’s still and silent for a moment.

And in that stillness, the panic in my body finally breaks. It shatters like glass into a thousand pieces that dissipate around me, leaving my head and heart blissfully empty.

Theo releases my lips at the same moment Marcus lifts his head from my shoulder, and I watch the two men above me share a silent look. Something passes between them, heavy and full of meaning. But I can’t tell what it is. The rapid beat of my heart is slowing, and my eyelids are drooping.

With the dreams and the memories falling away, all that’s left is the present.

The exhaustion.

The fading adrenaline.

I feel almost like I did after the sharp prick of a needle bit into my neck earlier and the sedative flooded my system in a rush, bringing oblivion with it.

I can’t keep my fucking eyes open.

As Marcus pulls out of me, they fall shut. And they don’t open again.