The Ritual: Chapter 39

SHE HASN’T SAID one word to me since I told her that what she wants no longer matters. It was cruel, but it was the truth. I’m tired of hiding things from her. She needs to know what goes on inside the world of the Lords. She may not like it, but she will learn to live with it.

Blood, death, and secrets are what my life is made of. Hers will be the same.

I quickly look over at her in the passenger seat of my W Motors Lykan Hypersport. She’s got her head tilted to the side and her eyes closed. She fell asleep the moment we left the house of Lords. I didn’t give her a very high dosage when I found her last night at the run-down bar. I was angry with her and knew she’d fight me every step of the way, so drugging her was my best option to move her without injuring her. It was just a couple of sleeping pills. On a normal person, they wouldn’t have worked that well, but I was banking on her already being exhausted. I know my wife pretty well by now. She wasn’t getting much sleep, knowing she was on the run.

Pulling into the driveway, I shut off my car, and she stirs. “We’re home,” I tell her.

Opening her heavy eyes, she blinks. “Why are we here?” she asks, looking around the wooded area.

“This is where we live.”

“No … my apartment …”

I get out and round the front of the car, opening her door for her. “You no longer have that,” I say, grabbing her hand and pulling her out. “I moved all of your stuff into the cabin.” After she left, I destroyed her apartment. Not my greatest moment, but I was looking for the slightest clue on where she might have gone. Once I managed to sit back and look at what I’d done, I said fuck it and hired a moving company to pack up all her shit and move it. I knew she wouldn’t be going back there once I found her.

She doesn’t say anything as we enter the house. I pull her down the hall to the master suite because we both need a shower.

Entering the bathroom, I turn on the shower and then step in front of her. “Lift your arms,” I order. She does as I say and places them above her head. I remove the shirt I dressed her in and then shove my sweatpants and underwear down her legs. “Get in. I’ll grab some towels.”

Walking over to the linen closet, I grab what we need and set them next to the shower, then I quickly undress and join her. She stands with her back against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest and head down. Her now wet hair sticks to her neck and breasts. She sniffs as the blood runs down over her body and disappears into the drain. I didn’t clean her up after we returned to the house of Lords. I ripped her uniform off, burned it, and put her in my bed, where I dressed her in some of my clothes and then waited for her to wake up.

“Blake,” I say softly, and she looks up at me, tears running down her face.

“You killed him,” she whispers, her lips trembling.

I was wondering when this would hit her. When she’d have a second to stop and think about what I did in the alleyway behind the bar. At the time, she feared me and was too concerned with saving herself. Now that we’ve slowed down and the drugs no longer linger, what I did is coming back full force. “I did.”

She sniffs again. “You slit his throat.” Her shoulders shake, and her eyes go wide as her hands start frantically wiping the blood off her bruised neck and chest. “It’s his blood …”

“Shh.” I grab her face and make her look up at me, taking her attention off what remains of the man. “I had to.” She shakes her head, but I steady it with my hands on either side. “Yes.” Pressing my body fully into hers, I add, “He put his hands on you. And that is unacceptable.” I’ll kill any motherfucker who touches my wife. It’s just that simple.

At the time, I was pissed at her but also relieved we had arrived just in time. What if I hadn’t found her when I did? She’d be dead right now. A second later and I would have found her body in that alley. It made me even angrier with her. The fact that she ran put her life in danger.

She lets out a sob, and I pull her from the wall, hugging her. With one arm holding her to my body, my free hand runs down over her wet hair while she cries into my chest. “You’re safe, Blake,” I tell her. “I promise.”

“I’m sorry,” she cries.

I sigh, feeling every ounce of anger I had toward her fade. It’s just as much my fault as it is Matt’s. I used her and then threw it in his face, so he attacked me the only way he knew how—by going to her. It’s a game that we’ve been playing ever since she became my assignment. But our marriage upped the ante.

I have too much to lose now, and he knows it. Like my father told her, she’s important to the Lords now. Matt can’t touch her, but he can have someone else go after her. That’s the part that scares me the most. I’ve made too many enemies over the years. Too many Lord members didn’t make it through initiation since I started four years ago. How many of them were denied because I beat them out?

“Ryat?” she whispers, pulling her head from my chest, looking up at me.

“Yeah?” I ask, my hand tangling in her hair.

“Thank you for saving me,” she whispers, her eyes giving me that same look of admiration she gave me the night of the house of Lords party. Before everything went to shit.

“Don’t thank me, Blake,” I tell her, my eyes falling to the marks on her neck. I’d go to war for my wife. One man was nothing. “I’ll always show up for you.”

Fresh tears spill over her bottom lashes, and I almost lean down and kiss her but stop myself. Instead, I pull back and grab the soap off the ledge to help clean her up.

She stays quiet while we both finish in the shower. I make sure to scrub every inch of her. I even wash her hair before tending to myself. Once done, I turn off the water and help her dry off. It’s like she’s on autopilot—here but not really.

“I’m tired,” she says softly and then yawns.

And for once, I am too. I’m exhausted from lack of sleep, stress, and just the feeling of the unknown. I walk out of the bathroom and pull the covers back on my bed. She crawls in, naked with wet hair. I lie down next to her on my back. Snuggling up next to me, she wraps her arms around me, and I let out a sigh, closing my eyes.

I missed her so goddamn much. I didn’t realize that until now. I mean, I spent every second of every day searching for her, but it was the fact that she ran from me. Not because I wanted her. It was more of a you belong to me thing and I will find you. Now, I realize it was always more than that.

My phone dings, and I reach over, picking it up off the nightstand. It’s a text. Opening it up, I read over it, and my teeth grind.

Fuck!

Deciding to ignore it, I lock the screen and put it back before pulling her into me and closing my eyes.

BLAKELY

I WAKE UP and stretch my heavy limbs. My body is still exhausted, but my head is clear. The lack of light in the room tells me it’s not morning yet. But honestly, I have no sense of time anymore. I could have been out for three days, for all I know.

Getting out of bed, I call out for Ryat but am met with silence. Deciding to go look for him, I walk into the living room and turn on the light. He sits in the middle of the couch, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. His arms are fanned across the back of the cushions, and in his right hand, he holds a glass of scotch. I frown. I’ve never seen him drink before other than that one time he and Gunner followed me and Sarah to Blackout. His hair dry and spiked to perfection how he usually wears it. I remember lying down with him after our shower, but he looks like he’s been awake for hours. “Ryat?”

My eyes drop to the coffee table that sits in front of him. It’s got my cell, my wedding ring and clutch—all three things I left on his bed when I ran. A manila envelope sits on the end.

My heart beats faster at the sight of them. I thanked him in the shower for saving me, and I meant it. If he hadn’t found me when he did, I’d be dead.

“What are you doing?” I whisper. “Come back to bed with me.”

He brings his right hand around, putting the glass to his lips, and throws back his drink. His eyes meet mine and level me with a glare.

“You okay?” I ask, taking a tentative step toward him, already knowing that something is wrong. Ryat doesn’t do well with hiding his emotions.

He gives a rough laugh, the sound making the hairs on the back of my neck rise in warning. “Three weeks, Blake. Three fucking weeks!” He leans forward, staring at the now empty glass in his hand.

I swallow, knowing it wouldn’t be that easy. He won’t forgive me. “Matt—”

“Matt wanted you to leave me. Don’t tell me that you didn’t know what he was doing.” He interrupts me. “We both know that you’re not stupid. And instead of coming to me, you ran.”

I cross my arms over my exposed chest. “You lied to me. Why would I go to you …?”

He stands and throws the glass into the lit fireplace, cutting me off. The sound of it shattering makes me jump in surprise.

“Don’t get mad at me for a situation you put yourself in,” I shout, uncrossing my arms. “You had a hundred chances to come clean. To tell me what the hell was going on. You made a decision, and now you don’t like the consequences.” Spinning around, I give him my back and go to storm off to the bedroom.

“You’re right.” He sighs heavily.

His words bring me to a stop. Never in my life would I have thought Ryat Archer would be the kind of man to admit someone is right other than himself. Slowly, I turn around to face him, and he falls back down onto the couch.

“Want to know what happened?” He fans his arms across the back again, his legs falling open. His posture and narrowed eyes tell me he’s anything but remorseful. “You started off as an assignment. I tried to decline it. Said you didn’t belong to me. But that wasn’t an option. You don’t say no to the Lords.” He tilts his head to the side, his eyes running over my bare chest. “So, I followed you. Learned your routine.” He laughs softly. “Or lack thereof. Then I made my move.”

My brows pull together. “What do you mean …?”

“You really thought you ran into me by accident?” He shakes his head. “I put myself in your way, Blake. It was my way into your life. It was time for you to see me. To want me.”

My hands fist at his confession. “You …”

“Gunner made sure that Sarah found that flyer. We made it just for the two of you, by the way.”

No wonder I had never seen one before.

“I gave you just enough information to make you curious.”

Tears start to sting my eyes at how stupid I was. Not a goddamn thing was by chance. It was all a fucking game. Piece by piece, he played me.

He smirks. “You were starving, Blake.” My heart sinks at his words. “Matt turned you down for so long that I didn’t have to give you much to keep you begging for more.”

The first tear runs down my cheek, and he watches it. Then he looks away, pulling his lip back with disgust. “You’re not the only stupid one here, Blake,” he adds. “I began to feel something for you.” He snorts at that confession. “Because you looked good in a fucking dress. I thought, what is wrong with your wife loving you? That maybe we’d have a chance after all.”

I hate that my pulse quickens at that thought. That he could actually love me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. For someone to love me for me. Accept me. I thought he had, but it was part of his game.

“Then you ran … and it reminded me what this really was. A job. My anger trumped anything else I had felt for the briefest of seconds.”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I step toward the couch again. “Ryat …?”

“Earlier in the shower made me realize I’ve gone fucking soft on you, Blake. Know why?” He doesn’t let me answer. “Because you cried. Because another man tried to hurt you. That’s what I’m trying to protect you from. I should be your biggest threat. But instead, I’m falling in love with you.”

My heart hammers, and the blood rushes in my ears. I don’t want his words to faze me, but they do. “Ryat …”

“I’ve been taught since I was young that obedience is important.” He goes on as if he didn’t just admit to loving me. “That power and humiliation go hand and hand. I’ve watched Lords break their chosen ones or their Ladies to keep them in line. And you? You cry a few tears, and I go fucking soft.”

“I’m sorry,” I say through the knot in my throat.

“Sorry isn’t good enough!” He jumps to his feet, shouting.

“Punish me,” I offer, taking another step forward.

He stares at me with a careless look in his pretty eyes. He’s gone. I’ve lost what little ground we made last night. And I hate that my chest hurts. That I even fucking care. He just admitted to me that it was a game. “Cute.” He snorts.

“I’m serious.” I take another step, desperate to hang on to what I’ve spent the past three weeks running from. Yes, he’s made mistakes, but so have I. We’re not perfect. But he was right. I felt those same feelings at the party before Matt came and ruined everything. Before I made the decision to leave instead of trying to understand what Matt was doing.

His eyes drop to my bare legs and run up over my body, pausing on my chest before they reach mine. “I’m no longer interested.”

Panic grips my chest at his confession. “What do you want, Ryat? Want me to beg? Want to teach me a lesson?”

“No, Blake. I no longer want anything from you.” Leaning forward, he picks up the manila envelope and stands. Walking over to me, he places it in my hands, his cold eyes on mine. “Consider this your wedding gift.” With that, he grabs his leather jacket off the recliner and walks out, the slamming of the front door making me jump.

I plop down on the couch and open it with shaky hands. Pulling out the papers, I feel fresh tears sting my eyes. They’re divorce papers. My heart aches as I flip through the tabs and see he’s already signed them.

When I slam them down on the coffee table, the corner hits my ring. I read the engraving on the inside of the band—till death do us part. I slide it on my finger while my stomach knots.

How did we get here? This is what I wanted, except now it isn’t. Yes, we started out with a lie. But I’m not innocent. I only became his chosen because of Matt. Ryat was right. I ran when I should have gone to him after Matt cornered me in Ryat’s bedroom. No matter how mad or confused I felt, running from my problems wasn’t the answer. Even I knew they’d catch up with me eventually.

Leaning forward, I place my elbows on my thighs, my face in my hands, and swallow the knot lodged in my throat. Why do I care that he wants to walk away? Is it the fact that I failed? I felt what he did that night at the house of Lords party, and that’s why what Matt said hurt so much. Because I thought I was finally getting what every girl wants—love and acceptance.

He chased me down. Killed a man for me. Saved me. That’s more than anyone else has ever done. Ryat promised me in the shower that I am safe with him. That he’d protect me. And then this? I refuse to let him off the hook that easily.

Fuck him and these papers.

Standing up, I grip them and walk over to the fire. I toss them in and watch my only escape plan burn.

Till death do us part, he once said to me. And I’m about to make him eat those words. Walking back to our bedroom, I enter the closet and look over my clothes that he had brought over from my apartment. I grab a T-shirt and a pair of white cotton shorts. After getting dressed, I brush my teeth. I’m rinsing out my mouth when I hear the front door open.

Making my way back into the living room, I place my hands on my hips, preparing for a fight, expecting it to be Ryat. He’s come back. He’s changed his mind too. I have no problem arguing it out with him.

“Ryat?” I hear a female voice call out his name as the front door shuts. Then the last person I expected to see enters the living room. She comes to a stop, and her wide eyes meet mine. “Blakely?” She gasps, swallowing nervously.

My eyes drop to her heels and run up over the black trench coat she wears, already knowing that she’s probably naked underneath. A black leather designer bag hangs from her right hand. “What are you doing here?” I demand, my skin tingling as the jealousy courses through my body. My mind races to conclusions as fast as my heart beats.

“I’m here to see Ryat.” She gives me a smile. That surprised look no longer on her perfectly done-up face. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” I say, lifting my chin.

She gives a laugh. “Well, you haven’t been here over the past three weeks when I’ve been here.”

No! I don’t believe a damn word out of her mouth. Ryat is a lot of things, but a cheater isn’t one of them. He’s nothing like Matt. And I refuse to let this bitch get to me. I won’t make that mistake again. “You’re lying.”

“Oh, come on, Blakely.” She laughs, taking a step toward me. “You didn’t possibly think he’d stay faithful after you left him, did you?”

I stay where I am, letting her come to me.

“A man like Ryat has needs.” She runs her tongue along her top bleached teeth. “Needs that you weren’t here to fulfill.” Coming to a stop, she presses her right hip out. “Someone had to keep him satisfied.”

“I guess I should be thanking you then, huh?” I ask, arching a brow.

“I should be thanking you.” She touches her pointer finger to the tip of my nose, and it takes everything in me not to bite it off. “If you hadn’t run like the scared little girl you are, Ryat may have never called me.”

I reach down, my right hand spinning my wedding ring around on my left hand, and then I slap her across the face with everything that I have. I need a release. A bitch fight sounds like just the thing to help that out.

Gasping, her hand shoots to her face as she drops—what I’m guessing is her overnight bag—at her feet. Pulling it away, she looks at the blood from the cut my ring left across her cheek. “Bitch!” she hisses.

“I’m sorry, did my wedding ring cut you?” I ask, giving her an apologetic smile.

“You fucking bitch …” She charges me.

_______________

I SIT ON the couch, dressed in Cindy’s trench coat. After I was done with her, I did my makeup and hair, then sat back, waiting for my husband to return home from God knows where. I feel like this will be my life a lot—always waiting on him. Not knowing what he’s doing or where he’s at.

Hearing the front door open and close makes me bite back a smile. Seconds later, he steps into the living room, dressed in the same clothes he left in, and comes to a stop. “What are you still doing here?” he demands, his eyes looking over me. I watch them turn heated in a way that tells me even though he’s mad, he’d still fuck me.

Good enough.

“I made you a drink.” I ignore his question and lean forward, picking up the glass of scotch off the coffee table.

He just glares down at me, unmoving. I’m sure he thinks I found his stash of drugs and am trying to knock him out or poison him. “Okay, then.” I shrug and throw the burning liquid back. Some of it runs down my chin onto my chest. “Oops,” I say, pulling the top of the trench coat farther apart to give him a better look. “Wanna lick it off me?” I ask.

“What are you doing here, Blake?” he snaps. “I gave you what you wanted. Take your shit and go.”

I smile up at him, refusing to let his words get to me. Ryat has challenged me every step of the way, and now I’m going to do the same to him. “What if I want something else?”

Reaching behind him, he pulls out his wallet and grabs a hundred-dollar bill. “Need money to run this time?” He tosses it onto my lap.

I flick it off onto the floor like a pesky little gnat and ignore the insult that a hundred dollars would get me far. Standing, I say, “I’m not leaving, Ryat.”

He runs a hand through his hair aggressively. “Blake …”

“What if I told you I fucked a guy while I was gone?”

His teeth clench, shoulders stiffening. Exactly the response I was wanting. “You didn’t,” he argues.

“What if I told you I fucked two guys?” I hold up my right hand, showing him my pointer and middle finger.

“Blake.” He growls my name, making my heart race. He doesn’t understand that he’s giving me exactly what I want. “You better be lying.”

“And if I’m not?” I ask, arching a brow. I’m baiting him.

Reaching out, he yanks me to him. “Then I’ll hurt you.”

I can’t help the smirk that spreads across my face. He doesn’t seem like a man who wants a divorce. A man done with his wife doesn’t give a fuck what she does, let alone what dick she’s been riding around on. “It’s only fair, baby. You get pussy, and I get dick.”

His brows crease, confusion marking his gorgeous face. “What?”

I pull away from him and walk into the laundry room. I open the door and reach in, grabbing the blonde who I tied up and tossed in there two hours ago. Thank God she was actually wearing something under that trench coat, or I would have had to dress her too. “Here.” I shove her forward into him.

She trips and he reaches out, grabbing her before she can fall on her face. Pity. “What the fuck, Blake?” he snaps, holding a crying and blabbering Cindy. Thankfully the tape over her mouth keeps her somewhat quiet.

“Consider it your wedding gift.” I repeat his words and cross my arms over my chest.

“What the fuck did you do?” he demands, yanking the tape from her mouth.

“Ryat … Ryat, please,” she begs him, big crocodile tears running down her face, ruining her once flawless makeup and dried blood from my ring to her cheek. “Help me. She’s crazy—”

“Cindy showed up to get her nightly fuck—you know, the one she’s been getting for the past three weeks while I was away—and was surprised to see me here,” I interrupt her rambling.

He looks at me, his green eyes wide with disbelief. I can’t even begin explaining the feeling of relief I have in my gut that he’s confirming what I already knew. He hasn’t touched her. “Are you serious? You honestly think I’m fucking her?”

I shrug. “It is what it is. Call it leveling the playing field.”

“You’re fucking crazy!” she screams, struggling in his grip. “You fucking bitch …”

He slams the side of her head into the wall, knocking her out, and I bite back a smile of satisfaction. Letting go of her, she falls to the floor, and he steps over her to me. I stay planted in my place, not afraid of him. Not anymore. My husband is powerful, but if I’m going to be a Lady, then I need to raise myself to his level. I’ll start by going head-to-head with him.

“I haven’t had an affair,” he growls, getting in my face.

“She proves otherwise.” I point at the unconscious woman.

“So, you’re going to believe her just like you did Matt?”

I say the only words that I know will push him even further. “Well, Matt wasn’t wrong.” He said that Ryat paid my father five hundred thousand, but that wasn’t actually true. However, Ryat did offer that much for me. So, it’s true enough if you ask me. The tracker in my cell, controlling who I talk to, all that was true.

He steps into me, nose to nose. Bring it. I’m all in. I didn’t throw those divorce papers in the fire for nothing. Ryat wants a Lady? I’ll give him a motherfucking lady.