Sweet Retribution (Ruthless Games Book 2)

We’re wrecked.

Theo’s words settle into my chest, worming into my heart to take up permanent residence there.

He’s serious. I can hear it in his voice. And I know exactly what he means. The feeling is entirely mutual.

I’m wrecked too.

I never meant to fall, but now I’m not sure I’ll ever find solid ground again. At least, not without these three by my side.

The feelings between the four of us are obsessive and manic, violent and overwhelming. I’m sure the shrink I stopped seeing years ago would tell me it’s not healthy. That it’s not sane.

But I’ve tried sanity. I’ve tried playing it safe. And all it did was turn my world a dull, numbing gray.

I can’t go back to that, even if it would be safer.

“Goddamn, angel.” Marcus lets out a breath, reaching over to the small table set beside his chair and grabbing a few tissues. He wipes himself off, then tosses the box to Ryland before tucking himself away. “You’re gonna fucking kill me one of these days. But it’ll be so damn worth it.”

A smile tugs at his lips as he speaks, but the mention of him dying makes a wash of ice pour through my chest. He’s kidding, and I know that. But I spent so many days thinking he might be dead, trying to talk myself out of believing that he was dead, and praying that we’d at least find a body. My rational mind can’t push down the wave of panic, and Theo must feel the tension that fills my body.

He wraps an arm around my waist, his touch turning from heated to protective in an instant.

“Yeah, speaking of you being alive,” he tells Marcus, keeping his tone light. “You better get some fuckin’ sleep. We need you back at one hundred percent, and you’ve had a hell of a day. Ry?”

He shifts his gaze to Ryland, who nods and rises from his chair, tossing several wadded up tissues into the trash can set in the corner. He’s tucked his softening cock away too, but I can still smell our lingering arousal in the air. The entire room smells like sex, honestly.

“Come on, man.” He crosses to Marcus, reaching down to offer him a hand. “And don’t even think about telling me you don’t need help.”

Marcus rolls his eyes but keeps his mouth shut as he rises slowly to his feet. I can see him suppress a grimace of pain, probably trying to mask it so I won’t worry. He leans against Ryland, the flush fading from his cheeks as he pales a little. He catches my gaze and gives me a tired smile.

“Don’t worry, angel. I’ll be all right.” His smile widens a little, and now I see it reflected in his eyes too. “I’m home.”

This isn’t even his house, but that’s entirely beside the point. He is home.

Ryland loops an arm loosely around his waist, shooting a glance my way before the two of them shuffle out of the room.

Theo helps me shift forward as he slides out of me, and I pad across the room naked to grab the box of tissues, returning and holding it out to him.

He grabs a few and cleans himself up, then takes his time cleaning me up. I look down at him as he works, smiling softly. His touch is both sweet and dirty, just like the man himself, and when he slides a finger through my folds before brushing it over my clit, I hiss out a breath, then chuckle.

“Still want more, huh?”

“Of you?” He looks up, his blue-green eyes warming as he teases my entrance with his finger. “Always.”

I lean down to kiss him, burying my fingers in his hair. It’s meant to be a sweet gesture, but just like his attempt to clean me up, it morphs from tender to dirty in three seconds flat. He tugs me toward him, and I find myself straddling his hips again, facing him this time.

His cock twitches, hardening a little beneath me. His pants are still undone, and my hand roams over the skin of his arms, chest, and stomach as we kiss, touching all the parts of him I couldn’t reach earlier while he was fucking me.

The kiss goes on so long that it turns as slow and deep as molasses, as if our bodies are melting into each other, two separate forms joining into one.

Exhaustion is finally catching up with me when we finally break apart, and I can only imagine how fucking tired Marcus must’ve been. It’s a miracle he didn’t pass the fuck out the second we got back to the house, although I’m selfishly glad he didn’t. We’ll all just have to make sure he gets enough sleep over the next few days to make up for it.

That thought strikes a chord in my chest, and I lean back a little, gazing down into Theo’s eyes.

“So, what happens now?”

“Now?” He catches a lock of my dark hair, winding it around his finger.

“Now that Marcus is back. Does it change our plan? Does it change our strategy?”

He chews his lip as he considers his answer. “I don’t think so. It just changes our focus. We know who shot Carson now. The playing field has changed. But our endgame hasn’t. We need to end this shit, and we need to win.”

“And you’ll still let me help?” I press, suddenly worried that now that Marcus is back, they’ll try to protect me by keeping me on the sidelines.

Theo laughs softly, his hands skimming down my back. “Rose, I don’t know how the hell the three of us got lucky enough to have you in our lives. But I think we’re all—finally—agreed on the fact that this is exactly where you fucking belong.”

I can’t help the smile that blooms across my face.

In these men’s lives is a dangerous place to be. It’s a place where I’m as likely to get shot again as I am to live another year. As Ryland told me once, none of them expect to live long, and standing beside them puts me at the same risk.

But my smile grows anyway as I slide my fingers through the hair at the nape of Theo’s neck, gazing down at him. “Good.”

He grins, and I lean back a little more, skimming my fingertips over his shoulder and chest before ghosting them over his ribs and the tattoo I noticed earlier.

Aut Viam Inveniam Aut Faciam.

My brows pull together as I cock my head. “What does this mean?”

His eyelids droop for a moment, as if he’s lost in the feeling of my touch. Then his expression hardens a little, and he answers.

“It’s Latin. It means ‘I will either find a way or make one.’ I got it after our first game. After I realized what the fuck my mom had signed me up for.”

He catches my hand, lacing his fingers with mine as he pulls me a little closer. Our bare skin brushes together, sending little sparks of heat scattering through me. His other hand reaches up to cup my face, and I lean into his touch like a cat.

“I never wanted this, Rose,” Theo says softly. “To play this game. Fuck, I don’t even want the prize. When you’re at the top of the heap, everybody’s eyes are on you. Everybody wants what you have, and they’ll do whatever they can to tear you down.” He shakes his head. “But now I’ve got another reason to win. We all do. It’s our best chance at keeping you safe.”

My chest tightens, and I drop my head to press a soft kiss to his lips. Then I slide my hand through his hair again, gripping it tight.

Tight enough to hurt a little.

To be a warning.

“You better fucking keep yourselves safe too.” My low murmur is almost a growl, and I kiss him again, harder this time. “I’m not losing any of you.”

He wraps his arms around me, pinning me against his chest as we kiss each other over and over, feeding an addiction that only seems to grow more consuming with every press of our lips.

I lose track of time, but after a while, Theo tightens his grip on me and pushes to his feet. He sets me down gently and zips his pants back up.

His cock is hard again, and I can’t help but ogle the piercing at the tip before it disappears behind the fabric of his black pants. He catches me staring, but instead of giving me shit for it, he just gives me a look that tells me I’m welcome to get as well acquainted with that part of his anatomy as I like.

He helps me get my dress back on, then leads me from the room. I expect him to turn toward the stairs that will take us to the guest bedroom on the second floor where I’ve been staying, but instead he strides down a hallway on the first floor. We pass Ryland’s room, and Theo opens the next door we come to. Even before I peer inside at the figure lying on the bed, I know who it is.

“He needs you,” Theo murmurs, opening the door a little wider. “And I think you need him too.”

Fuck. He’s right about that.

I was prepared to go back to my own room, but the truth is, I’d probably spend all night tossing and turning, fighting off nightmares in which Marcus never came back to us, or lying awake wondering if he was all right.

How the hell Theo could see that in me without me saying a word about it, I don’t know. But at the moment, I’m insanely grateful for how well my ex-stalkers know me.

Tiptoeing forward, I rest my hand on his chest and rise up to press a kiss to his lips. Then I step inside the room, keeping my footsteps light as I cross toward the bed.

Marcus is lying on his stomach, his face illuminated by the soft beam of light that streams in through the halfway open door. I can still see bone-deep weariness and signs of pain in his features, but his expression is peaceful as he sleeps quietly. His long, dark lashes fan across his cheeks, and the vulnerability of him in this moment hits me like a ton of bricks.

I want to both wrap myself up in him and wrap myself around him.

To be protected by him and protect him right back.

He has become my anchor in a world of chaos, and I hope like hell I can be that for him too.

“Goodnight, Rose.”

Theo’s soft voice comes from the doorway, and a second later, the light vanishes as the door shuts with a soft click. Ignoring the fact that I just put it back on, I shrug my dress off again and then crawl into bed beside Marcus.

He’s fast asleep, dead to the world, but when I lift the covers and slide in beside him, he makes a soft noise and rolls onto his side, snaking his arms around me and pulling me into his body. His face nuzzles my hair, and he takes one long inhale before his breathing pattern returns to normal.

I nestle deeper into his embrace, sleep already dragging me under. The last thought I have before I give in to the heavy pull is: he’s home.

And I am too.

I dream of something good, for once.

Of course, of all the dreams I’ve had, this is the one I can’t quite remember when I slowly blink awake in the morning. But I know it was a good dream, because instead of a pounding heart and wildly racing thoughts, I feel peaceful. Calm. Happy.

The dream was about my brother, I think.

That realization makes me dig deeper into the scrap heap of my memory banks, searching for any hint of what passed through my mind while I was asleep. I come up empty, but I have the strangest feeling that I found him in my dream. That I came face-to-face with him, and he was alive.

Healthy.

Real.

“What’s that smile for, angel?”

Marcus’s voice is rough with sleep, and when I turn my head toward him, I find his blue and brown eyes focused on me. He’s lying on his side, one arm slung possessively over my stomach as I lie on my back. I didn’t realize he was awake. It’s still a bit early, and he should really be getting as much sleep as possible. But he looks better this morning. His face has more color, and he looks as peaceful as I feel.

“Oh, you know.” I turn toward him. “I had a pretty good night last night.”

He lets out a low laugh, his eyes sparking with amusement. “Fuck, I missed you.”

There’s nothing but honest truth in his words, and I nod, a lump suddenly forming in my throat. “I missed you too.”

He tugs me closer, pulling me into his embrace. He must’ve stripped down to just his boxers before he got in bed, and as my arm wraps around him, my fingertips brush the damaged skin of a fresh scar. My heart skips a beat in my chest, and I pull back a little.

“Can I see?”

Marcus lifts an eyebrow, shooting me a questioning glance. “You really want to?”

“Yes.”

I don’t know if want to is the right way to put it. I need to see the scars on his back left behind by the bullet wounds. I need to know how bad it is.

He hesitates for a beat, then nods. Releasing his hold on me, he rolls over onto his stomach, crossing his arms on his pillow and resting his cheek against them as he watches me carefully.

Tugging the blankets down a little, I scan his back. My pulse picks up, memories of my own trauma and slow, painful healing process rising to the surface as I stare at the three bright pink wounds on Marcus’s back. They’re concentrated in a tight cluster on the right side between his spine and his shoulder blade.

“Victoria’s a fucking bitch, but the doc she has on call knows his shit,” Marcus murmurs as I rise up onto the elbow of my ruined arm and lean over him a little, examining his wounds. “My lung had collapsed, but he was able to fix it. And the bullets made pretty straight paths inside my body, so there wasn’t as much internal damage as there could’ve been. The thing that almost killed me was blood loss.”

My stomach churns at the memory of waking up in a drying puddle of blood. Of being caked in it, my clothes and skin and hair matted with it.

I nod, unable to find words to respond.

How much blood has been lost between the two of us? How much more blood will be spilled before this thing is over?

“So does this make us even?” I trace my fingers in wide circles around each of his fresh, pink scars. I want to kiss them like he’s done to mine, but they’re too new for that, the wounds still healing. “I saved your life, then you saved mine.”

“Not a fucking chance, angel.” Marcus rolls onto his side again, stealing away the sight of his injured back. “The doc kept telling me how fucking lucky I was. That if I’d gotten shot on the other side, there’s a good chance the bullets would’ve hit my heart. The fact that I spun around at the last second? The fact that I had my arms around you? That saved me. I owe you twice as much now.”

I scowl at him. “That doesn’t count. That’s just a coincidence. Good luck, like the doctor said.”

His grin is fierce and feral. “It counts if I say it counts.” He pushes me onto my back, resting on an elbow to hover over me. “And you’re more than good luck, Ayla. You’re my fucking guardian angel, and you always will be.”

He kisses me, drugging me with the feel of his large, calloused hand roving over my body and his lips on mine. I wrap my arm around him, carefully avoiding his wounds as I pull him closer.

Marcus has been calling me his guardian angel ever since he crashed back into my life, and I never really believed him.

But as we kiss each other like our lives depend on it, like the other person is our air and water and food, I realize for the first time that I want to be.

I’ve found something with these men that I never knew existed, that I never thought I could have. And there’s no fucking way I’m letting anyone take it away from me now.