The Ritual: Chapter 27

I’ M SHOVED INTO a chair with my hands cuffed behind my back and my legs shackled.

The female officer looks down her nose at me and smirks. “Good luck, pretty boy.” Laughing, she exits the room.

I was brought in here three hours ago. It took them that long to book me, strip search me, and change me into my new orange jumpsuit. After our meeting with Gregory, Matt and I were cuffed and placed in squad cars. We’ve officially been arrested on bogus crimes and booked under fake names. Come to find out, our target is in jail. Just our luck.

The door opens, and Gregory enters.

My eyes go to the right upper corner to see the red blinking light turn off on the camera. He sits down across from me.

“Two times in the same night,” I say, wondering why I’m seeing him again. Didn’t he say all he needed to say earlier in the warehouse? Otherwise, why not just come speak to us here instead of before?

“I hear you’re the best, Ryat,” he says, leaning back in the seat.

“I wouldn’t believe everything you hear,” I counter.

He snorts. “Most of the best ones are the cockiest in their field.”

“What do you want?” I ask, getting to the point.

“I want to make sure you understand the situation.”

I tilt my head to the side, running my tongue along the front of my top teeth. “I understand you want revenge on that sorry piece of shit for killing your son.” I don’t blame him. The bastard who was going to take him out killed his six-year-old son, Remy, instead. I can’t even fathom what this man feels right now. I’m the type of man who would never trust my revenge in someone else’s hands. I’d take them out myself. I’d want to see the life drain out of their eyes as they choke on their own blood from my hands.

He looks up, checking to make sure the light is shut off as well before leaning forward. “I gave the order to kill him. But the cops who found the motherfucker arrested him and booked him instead.”

I frown. Matt and I weren’t given any details, so why is he telling me this now? Especially since Matt isn’t present. They placed him in a separate room from me after we were done being booked. “You think they’re on his payroll?”

He sighs. “I’m not sure what the fuck to think.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I’ve got word that he’s in solitary confinement.”

“Why would they do that?” Gregory has put most of these men in their cells. So, why would they hide his son’s killer? Most of these men would praise him. Hiding him doesn’t make much sense. Especially if they went against Gregory’s demand and arrested him when they were supposed to shoot to kill. No questions asked. A dead man can’t defend himself sort of speak.

“I’m not sure. The best I can think of is they know I’d send in someone to finish the job they weren’t able to do.”

I nod in understanding. “Got it.”

He stands, getting what he wanted from me. “Once it’s done, you’ll be released. You have my word. No one will know it ever happened.” Exiting the room, a male police officer enters and helps me up.

He leads me down a hallway and into an open area. It’s two stories tall with a guard station in the middle. Someone whistles, and I look over to see a guy leaning up against the bars of his cell. He blows me a kiss.

I smirk as the officer brings me to a stop. He opens the cage, and I enter, where he removes the cuffs and then locks me inside.

“About time.”

Turning around, I see Matt sitting on the top bunk. He jumps down. “Where have you been?”

I ignore that. “Was this your plan? Get locked up with me in a little cell?” He didn’t know any more than I did what the assignment would entail, but I like giving him shit.

He shrugs. “If you’re here, you’re not there.”

Stepping forward, I say. “I may not be fucking her right now, but I will the moment we’re out of here.”

“You son of a …”

I grip his head and slam it into the white brick wall to my left. Blood instantly runs from his nose, covering the wall. I do it again. And again.

I hear the guards shouting from their station, and inmates start raising their voices while I shove Matt to the floor and kick him in the face, knocking it back and making blood fly.

The cell opens, and I’m tackled to the floor, where they cuff me once again. I’m smiling when they haul me out of there, taking me to solitary confinement. I’m not here to play roommates with Matt. I’m here to get a job done and get back to Blake.

BLAKELY

RYAT’S BEEN MIA for three days now. And every day that goes by without any word from him just pisses me off even more.

Is this what people mean when they say they were ghosted? I mean, no one just disappears. But it’s like poof, he’s gone. Almost like the motherfucker never existed. I’m not sleeping at night. I can’t concentrate in classes. It’s not because I miss him. It’s because I’m fucking pissed.

I spend every second of the day thinking about what I’ll say to him if I ever see him again. And none of them are good.

“Hey?” Sarah enters my bedroom.

I look up at her from my bed. I have a serial killer documentary on. It’s giving me ideas on what to do to him in his sleep if he ever returns. “Hey.” I haven’t spoken to her much. She and Gunner are staying here, but I don’t see them often. They’re too busy fucking most of the time in her room. I know this because I can hear them.

“We’re going out for dinner. Want to come with us?” she asks.

“No thanks.” I’m not in the mood to eat anything.

She sighs. “Gunner says this is just part of being a Lord.”

“Noted.” I dismiss her, looking up at my TV.

“Blakely—”

“I’m not trying to be rude, but I want to be left alone,” I interrupt her.

Nodding, she turns and closes my door doing as I ask. Sinking farther into the bed, I pick up my cell next to me. I pull up his contact and hover over the number. The inner battle of wanting to say, “go fuck yourself” and “please talk to me” are equally on my mind right now.

And of course, like the dumb bitch I am, I press call. “You’ve reached Ryat …” I hang up and toss it across the room the moment his voicemail picks up, letting out a scream. Obviously, he has no intention of having any contact with the outside world, including me.

Rolling over onto my stomach, I shove my head into my pillow and scream again, this time as loud as I can. I hate being ignored. It’s my biggest pet peeve and what Matt would do the moment I asked a question he didn’t want to answer.