The Ritual: Chapter 37

I SIT ON the black leather couch, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees. My right hand absentmindedly spins my wedding band.

Till death do us part is engraved on the inside of the band—identical to my wife’s.

She has been gone for two days now. Not a single word, not a clue as to where she went. And no fucking idea where to even start looking. She disappeared—poof —like a ghost.

When I find her—and I will—it’s going to take everything in me not to fucking kill her. That’s how angry I am.

My new phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out to see it’s a text from an unknown number.

Negative.

Locking it back, I grind my teeth. Well, that’s interesting. But something that I don’t have time to devote my life to right now. One problem at a time.

“What do we know?” my father-in-law asks, sitting behind his desk in his office overlooking downtown Dallas. Once again, in the middle of the night.

“Nothing,” Prickett answers, sitting to my right.

I haven’t said much since I found out she decided to run. It seems pointless because there’s not much to say.

“She didn’t return to her apartment, her car is still in the same spot it was before, and she left her cell at the house of Lords, along with her wedding ring,” Gunner informs, sitting to my left.

My father sighs while he stands by the floor-to-ceiling window. “She’s just vanished.”

“People don’t just disappear.” Her father slams his hands down on his desk. I’m pretty sure Phil wants to strangle her too. “She needs money to survive.”

“She gets a job,” Prickett offers.

“She’s never had one a day in her life. What skills does she have?” he barks. “But if she does have one, then there’s a record of her somewhere out there.”

“Not if she’s making cash, getting paid under the table,” Gunner states, sitting back on the couch. “Vegas and stripper come to mind.”

My hands clench at his words, and I want to punch him for even thinking that.

“Matt played her,” my father states, turning around to face the room. “He realized his chance with her was gone, so he chose to sabotage her marriage with Ryat.” His eyes meet mine. “He was probably planning on her making a big scene in front of everyone but was granted something better when she ran instead.”

We had watched the video of Matt and my wife in my bedroom when we first arrived thirty minutes ago, I’ve watched it more times than I can count by now. You would think that I’d realize that there is no evidence to tell me where she went.

But the video didn’t change my mind about the situation she’s left us in. I don’t give a shit how upset she is with me; she’s still going to pay for this. So will Matt, but he’ll come later. Right now, she’s my main priority.

Phil runs his hands down his face, letting out a deep breath. “Find her.” His eyes meet mine. “Find her and bring her back. By whatever force you deem necessary.”

I nod once. I’d planned on it anyway, but thanks for the permission.

“Her biggest threats are those who want to hurt Ryat,” he goes on. “A wife of a Lord is one who can be used against us. And it was just announced to the goddamn world.”

Marriages inside the Lords are always to create power. Wives have been kidnapped for ransom. Some have been raped, others murdered. Any of our enemies can see what we have and take it. Doesn’t matter if the couple loves each other or not. It still impacts our world. The wife is our toy and also our weakness.

“She’s vulnerable out there by herself.” He stands and shoves his computer off the desk. It crashes to the ground. “FUCK!” Placing his hands on the surface, he breathes heavily. “We can’t go to the press with this. We can’t do anything to let the public know she’s missing. It’ll bring a fucking war on us. Someone could see her and then grab her before we even find her.” His eyes dare me to argue. I don’t. “By the time we find her body, it’ll be too late.”

He’s right. We can’t trust anyone outside this room. “I’m going to find her,” I say calmly, finally breaking my silence. But what no one knows is that I’m the biggest threat she’s got right now.

BLAKELY

“YOU MAY KISS your bride.”

Out of everything I’ve done since I ran into Ryat in the hall of Barrington, those are the most terrifying words I’ve heard.

Kiss? The thought just hit me like a brick to the face. The blow almost knocking me out of my heels. We haven’t kissed on the lips once yet. I honestly didn’t even think of it. That this had to happen.

He steps into me, his right hand cups my cheek, his eyes drop to my parted lips and I suck in a deep breath when his chest presses up against mine.

I tilt my head up to look at him. My heart hammers and beads of sweat form on the back of my neck. Why am I so nervous? I’ve kissed a boy before. Hell, I’ve even kissed Sarah before. But Ryat? Kiss my now husband sounds too intimate—forbidden.

But I can’t stop it. It has to be done—it’s a tradition to bless the marriage. Pressing his lips to mine, my eyes fall closed just as my lips part. His touch is tender, his lips almost needy. I open up for him, giving the last thing that I have to offer him and my body molds into his when his free arm wraps around my waist, holding me tightly.

His tongue enters my mouth, gently meeting mine and I moan into his mouth, wanting more. Needing that aggression that he always has. My hands slide up his back, gripping a hold of his button-up and I cling to him. Needing him closer.

But he pulls away, and I open my heavy eyes, disappointment coursing through me that I hadn’t done that before now.

His eyes are already on mine and he licks his lips as if he needed one more taste of me. His hand cupping my face moves to run his knuckles down over my cheek when he whispers, “Now you’re mine forever, Mrs. Archer.”

“Miss?”

“What?” I blink, trying to get that memory of our wedding day out of my mind. It’s been on replay ever since I left him.

“Can I get a Bud Light?” the man calls out, raising his hand to me from his table.

I nod. “Of course. Anything else?” Get your shit together, Blakely! There was a reason you left him.

He gives me a soft smile, his amber-colored eyes dropping to my tight booty shorts. “A shot of you.”

Cute! After giving him a fake laugh like his joke was funny, I turn and head to the bar to grab his order.

“You just got a new table,” Janett, the bartender and owner, nods behind me.

Looking over my shoulder, I see three men sit down. “I need a Bud Light,” I tell her, and she pops one open for me. Placing it on my tray, I give it to the man and then go over to my new table. “What can I get for you guys?” I ask, holding my round tray up against my right hip.

This is my life now. A server at a dive bar in the middle of fucking nowhere. I’ve been gone for three weeks. No phone, no car, no access to the outside world other than who I see in here, which is exactly how I want it. I don’t know just how much the Lords reach goes when it comes to the police or the feds.

But Ryat still lives in my head, and I hate it.

I left everything when I ran out of the house of Lords. I knew I wouldn’t be returning. In order to escape, I need a new life. I had some cash saved, but I wasn’t able to run back to my apartment and grab it, so until I could get some saved up again, I needed a job that was going to fly under the radar.

I applied, and Janett hired me on the spot. I think she knew by my white satin dress and smeared makeup that I was running from someone. And, of course, the fact I had no contact number or ID. She helped me out. I owe her for that.

“I’ll have a Corona,” one of the guys calls out over the music. The second one nods. “Yeah, that sounds good. Make it two.” The third guy puts the menu down and looks up at me. His dark blue eyes drop to my white crop top. It fits extra tight, pulling across the black bra I wear underneath—classy, I know.

I’ve dyed my hair black with a cheap box from the dollar store just down the road. I was trying to think of a million things I could do to change my appearance in case my picture or name was plastered all over the news. But to my surprise, that hasn’t happened.

Every day I’m gone, I feel more on edge. Like my time is running out. I don’t plan on staying here much longer. I know I need to keep moving in order to avoid my past. I already feel like I’m being watched. But I keep telling myself that’s crazy. If Ryat was here and knew where I was, he’d make himself known. He doesn’t have enough patience to hide in the shadows and watch me.

“What’s your name?” he asks, placing his forearms on the table, leaning in.

“Rae,” I give him my middle name. Still wanting to be careful. That’s what everyone calls me here anyway.

“Rae.” He runs his tongue across his white teeth. “Well, what do you suggest, Rae?”

“Depends on what you like.” I shrug. We’re not that experimental with drinks here. The clientele usually prefers the norm. I’m not going to go over the entire list when it’s sitting right in front of him.

“I like you.” He sits back in his seat, his eyes dropping to my shorts like the last guy, and I have to refrain from rolling my eyes. This is how I make my tips.

“Stop, man.” His friend slaps him in the arm, laughing. “She’s probably got a boyfriend.”

A husband actually.

If I’m lucky, he’s given me an annulment, but I highly doubt it. Ryat is more the type to have fake papers drawn up about an excruciating death on my behalf. That’s the least that motherfucker could do for me.

“So?” The guy chuckles at his friend. “What do you say, sexy momma? Go out with me after your shift?”

Momma? Does that really work for men? “I don’t get off until three,” I inform him. The fact that he thinks I would cheat on my imaginary boyfriend is insult enough. It’s clear he just wants to fuck. No one goes on a date at three in the morning.

Not going to say I haven’t thought of it. Going from as much sex as Ryat and I were having to fucking nothing sucks ass. This morning, I had to lay flat in the bathtub and spread my legs for the damn faucet to hit it just right while on full blast. I have nothing to get me off, and I can’t seem to get it done with my fingers. It’s frustrating, to say the least.

“That’s fine.” He links his hands together and places them behind his head, smirking up at me. “I’ll wait until you get off. Then we’ll get off.”

“What do you want to drink, sir?” I ask, holding in a sigh.

His friend’s laughter grows. “Dude, just order your fucking drink and leave her alone.”

“Surprise me,” he finally says.

Giving them my back, I make my way over to the bar. “Three Coronas, please.”

She nods and turns to get the beers for me, and he floods my memories like usual.

“Ryat!” I squeal when he bends down and sweeps me off my feet, cradling me in his arms in the middle of the driveway. “What are you …?”

“It’s tradition to carry your wife over the threshold,” he informs me, entering the cabin.

I smile up at him. “Never thought you’d be the kind of guy who cares about tradition.”

Entering the bedroom, he tosses me onto the bed and before I can even get up, he’s straddling my hips with a hand on either side of my head, pinning me down. “I think you’ll find that I’m full of surprises, Mrs. Archer.”

“Here you go.” She places the drinks on my tray, once again bringing me back to the present.

“Thanks,” I mumble.

“Are you okay?” she asks, stopping me before I can walk away.

“Yeah,” I lie, and her light brown eyes look at me skeptically. “I’ll be fine.”

“Look.” She leans over, placing her forearms on the bar top. “I don’t know the story, and I don’t need to know, but I promise you’re better off.”

_______________

“I CAN’T LEAVE,” Janett says into her cell phone, standing behind the bar. We’ve been closed for almost an hour now and are almost done cleaning. “No,” she grinds out. “I have a few more things to do …”

“You can go ahead and leave if you need to,” I tell her.

She looks up at me, and I hope she’s not mad at me for eavesdropping on her conversation. We’re the only two left here, and the music is off, so it’s quiet at the moment.

“Yeah, okay,” she says after a long pause. “I’ll be right there.” Pocketing her cell phone, she looks at me. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” I say with a nod. “No worries. I’ll lock up.”

“Thanks, Rae. You’re awesome. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She grabs her purse out from underneath the bar, throws her keys on top of it for me, and then storms out the front door.

I grab the keys and make my way to lock the front doors behind her from the inside. Then I walk over to the bags of trash lined up in front of the bar. I’m in no hurry to get back to my hotel room. It’s a shit place, but it’s cheap. Again, under the radar. Takes cash. The lady next to me always has visitors, and I’m pretty sure by the way her bed hits the wall, she gets paid for her time.

Picking up two of the bags, I carry each of them awkwardly out the back door into the alleyway to the dumpster. Setting them down, I push the lid open and then throw them each in one at a time. Slamming it shut, I slap my hands together to get the dirt off them and turn around to see a figure standing in front of me.

Jumping back, I scream.

“Hey, Rae,” the guy from earlier tonight says, standing in front of the door, blocking my only way back in.

“You scared me,” I breathe, my hand on my racing heart. “What … what are you doing out here?”

“I’ve been waiting on you.”

I take a step back from him, my back hitting the nasty smelling dumpster. We’ve been closed for over an hour. He’s waited this entire time for me? “You need to go,” I tell him and try to step around him, but he steps to the side, blocking me.

“Come on.” He smirks. “Do you really think I don’t know who you are?”

My stomach drops, but I try to fake it. “I don’t know …”

“You’re Blakely Rae Archer.”

My breath hitches that he knows my full name. My eyes drop to his right hand, but I don’t see the ring that I know Ryat wears with the Lord’s crest on it. Is this guy a member? “Did Ryat send you?” I ask, voice shaking.

His smile grows.

If this is a test, I feel like I just failed. “Just tell him you didn’t find me. Please …”

Grabbing my top, he spins me around. He slams my back into the back door to the bar, stepping into me. “Why would I do that?”

“Please,” I beg. I can’t go back. I’ve thought about it, but it’s been too long now. Ryat would kill me. I have no doubt that I stepped over a line that cannot be undone. And I knew the moment I decided to run that I’d be running for the rest of my life. But it was better than the alternative. Ryat, my mother, father, Matt, everyone made me a fool. A stupid, idiotic woman who thought she might actually be worth something.

“What will you do for me?” he asks.

I swallow the lump in my throat. “I have some cash …”

He throws his head back, laughing. “I don’t want your money, bitch,” he snaps in my face, making me whimper. “No, I want what Ryat has.” Taking a step back from me, he gives me just enough room to bring my knee up, making contact with his balls.

“Fuuuccckkkk.” Doubling over, he grabs himself.

I push off the wall to run down the alleyway. But a hand fisting in my hair yanks me to the ground. “Get off me!” I shout, kicking my feet out, but he drops and straddles me, his weight pinning me down on the uneven, cold ground. It rained earlier this evening, so the water soaks into what little clothes I wear and my hair.

“Not until I get what he owes me,” he growls, wrapping both of his hands around my neck and squeezing.

I arch my back, my hands gripping his forearms and my lips open, trying to suck in a breath, but he’s restricting my air. My shoes kick the concrete, and my face pounds like a drum. Tears fill my eyes, making his figure blurry.

“I’m going to send you back to him in fucking pieces,” he growls, shaking me.

Dots take over my vision, my chest heaves for a breath of air as my body starts to give up the fight. My hands falling to the concrete beside me, and my eyes grow heavy. Just when I think I’m about to die, his head is yanked back, and I watch a knife slide across his throat. Blood squirts out of the open wound, spraying me, and his hands loosen enough for me to get free.

Coughing, I crawl backward before his body falls to the ground where I was just lying.

Trying to catch my breath, now wet and covered in blood, I look up at the man who stands behind him, and my stomach drops. He’s much more terrifying than the man who was just trying to kill me.

Ryat Alexander Archer has found me.