The Ritual: Chapter 49

I ’M DRIVING DOWN the highway, my eyes constantly going to the clock on my dash. The meeting at the house took longer than necessary. Now I’m having to haul ass to Blackout, making sure I get there before Blake receives her text about her initiation.

The sound of my phone ringing blares through the speakers. I see that it’s Ty. “Hello?” I answer.

“Ryat,” he shouts my name, and it instantly has my heart racing. “I don’t know what happened. Man, it was just a second—”

“Let me speak to Blake,” I interrupt him.

“I can’t.” He sighs heavily. “Ryat, she …”

“What the fuck happened, Tyson?” I snap, and Gunner is already pulling his cell out of his pocket, probably to call Sarah.

“We’re at the hospital. Meet us here. I gotta go.” He hangs up.

“She’s not answering,” Gunner growls, yanking the phone from his ear.

“Hang on.” I slam on the brake to take the exit that I was almost already past in order to turn around and go the opposite way.

Less than twenty minutes later, I bring my SUV to a screeching halt in front of the emergency room doors. Gunner and I both jump out. Entering, I find the nurse’s desk. “Blakely Rae Archer.” I shout her name, my hand banging on the surface. “She’s my wife!”

“Ryat?” I hear my name being shouted from down the hall.

“Never mind,” I tell the useless nurse and take off.

“Sir, you can’t …”

I ignore her and run toward Tyson. He stands in the center of the hall. “What in the fuck is going on?” I snap, but my eyes drop to the blood on his shirt, and I blink, trying to comprehend what I’m seeing. That can’t belong to my wife. I’ve been around it all my life, but right now, I feel like I’m going to get sick. The thought of something happening to her when I should have been there with her.

He raises his hands. “I don’t know what happened. I walked outside, and Sarah … she was screaming for help. Blake … she was bleeding …”

“Where is she?” I demand, about to punch him in the fucking face since he’s having problems getting out a single sentence.

“There.” He points at the door we stand outside of. “Gavin’s on call and already seen her.”

I shove it open and rush inside the room to find my wife lying in a hospital bed with Sarah sitting in a chair next to her, holding Blake’s hand. Her face is swollen and bruised, and she’s got stitches in various places.

“Sarah,” I say her name softly. Her makeup is smeared, her face red and splotchy.

“Oh, Ryat.” Letting go of Blake’s hand, she rushes over to me and throws her arms around my neck, almost knocking me a step backward.

I numbly pat her back while I look over my wife’s unconscious body. So small and vulnerable lying there in the bed. They haven’t cleaned her, so dried blood is caked all over her face and down her neck. Some even splattered on her arms and hands.

The door behind me opens, and Sarah pulls away from me. “Gunner.” She runs to him, and I walk over to her now empty chair and fall down into it. I take Blake’s warm hand and clasp it in mine. “What happened?” I ask again, hoping someone will tell me something.

“She wanted to get something from her car … we walked outside. But I forgot my phone.” She starts, pulling away from Gunner. “She drove me to the back of the building.” She hugs herself. “I was only gone a few minutes. When I came back, she was sitting in the driver seat … like this. I was … screaming.” Sarah shakes her head. “For anyone to help. She was just sitting there, covered in blood.” Looking over at Blake, fresh tears run down her face. “That’s when that guy came up to us …”

“Who?” Gunner interrupts her.

She points at the door. “The guy in the hallway. I don’t even know who he is. He pulled her out of the car and ran over to another one. He told me to get in and had me drive while he sat with her in the back.” She goes back to sobbing, and Gunner pulls her into him, hugging her tightly.

The door opens again, and I expect it to be Ty, and I open my mouth to tell him to get the fuck out, but it’s a different Lord. “Ryat. Gunner.” He nods to both of us.

“Dr. Gavin,” I say, releasing her hand and setting it on the bed.

“I have some X-rays I’d like to go over with you, if you have a second.” He holds the film in his hands.

“Of course.” I nod numbly.

“We’ll be back,” Gunner tells us and then pulls a sobbing Sarah out of the room, excusing themselves.

BLAKELY

I CAN HEAR voices, but they sound far off. Like I’m standing at one end of the tunnel, and they’re at the other—echoing inside my head. Which is pounding as if someone is using it as a drum set.

“I told you this would happen …”

The voices start to come in clearer.

“I told you guys we should have tested her differently.” Another voice gets through the drumming behind my eyes.

“The initiation didn’t do this to her!” a familiar voice snaps.

“No! It was that piece of shit that you were going to allow her to marry!” another voice argues, and I recognize it. It’s Ryat’s.

“I was never going to allow that!” the second one shouts back. “Why do you think I made you choose her?” It’s my dad . “Huh? It sure as shit wasn’t for shits and giggles.”

“Well, it’s not like you ever gave me an answer when I asked.”

I open my heavy eyes, blinking a few times before the room comes into focus. I’m lying in a hospital bed. Ryat stands over to the right, leaning back against a windowsill dressed in a white T-shirt and jeans with a black baseball hat on backward and tennis shoes.

My father sits on a couch next to him, dressed in a charcoal suit with his cell in his hand. Looking to my left, I see my father-in-law pacing the large room, also dressed like he just came from a board meeting. “We’re not going to accomplish anything if we’re arguing,” he states, taking in a deep breath.

“Yeah,” I manage to croak and flinch. “You’re making … my headache worse.”

“Blake!” Ryat shoves off the windowsill and comes over to me. “How do you feel?” Before I can even try to answer him, he looks at his dad. “Get the nurse.” Who turns and rushes out of the room.

“Hey, princess,” my father says gently, coming to the other side of my bed.

“I …” my eyes close, the light hurting them.

“Turn off the light,” Ryat orders, and then I hear the click of the switch, and I open my eyes slowly to a softer lit room with the main light now off. “Better?” he asks, his hand picking up mine and gently squeezing it.

I nod. “Yeah.”

The door opens, and Abbot enters with a nurse behind him. “Good evening, Blakely. How do you feel?”

I groan. She’s way too chipper with her big smile, bleach-blond hair pulled up into a cute twist, and brown eyes that I notice quickly scan my husband before coming back to mine.

“She said she’s got a headache.” Ryat answers when he realizes I’m going to ignore her.

“I can give you some pain meds.” She nods enthusiastically. And then looks at him again. “I’ll be right back with those.”

Leaving us, I close my heavy eyes. “What happened?”

“You were attacked,” Abbot answers.

Ryat squeezes my hand again. “Do you not remember?”

“No,” I answer, opening my eyes and looking at him.

He looks exhausted. His pretty green eyes aren’t as bright as I remember. There’s stubble on his jaw, and I know he hasn’t washed his hair since he has a hat on.

“How long have I been here?” I ask, licking my chapped lips.

“Three days,” my father answers.

“Here, I got you some of these when I chased down the nurse.” Abbot shoves a cup of ice into Ryat’s free hand.

He lets go of mine with his other hand and spoon-feeds me a few ice chips. I just let them melt in my mouth, wanting the water more than chewing ice. I’m so thirsty. After I swallow, I slide my tongue along my upper and lower teeth, making sure they’re all there. I feel a little better when they are.

“Want some more?” Ryat asks, and I nod.

The nurse returns with a syringe and that stupid fucking smile on her face. “This will make you drowsy. Probably be in and out—”

“No,” I say, interrupting her. I’ve already been out for three days? That’s too long. “I don’t want …”

“It’s okay, Blake,” Ryat tells me and then looks up at her, nodding. His eyes return to mine. “We’ll be right here when you wake up.” Leaning down, he gives me a soft kiss on my knuckles as my eyes grow heavy.