Sweet Retribution (Ruthless Games Book 2) -
Chapter 21
I expect Marcus to be a terrible invalid. He’s stubborn and driven and impatient, and I have visions of myself having to drag him back to bed or lock him in his room to get him to slow the fuck down.
But I forgot that this man also won’t deny me anything I want.
I asked him to stay in bed—so he does.
For the next several days, he rests religiously, throwing all of his focus and dedication into getting stronger and healthier as the rest of us prepare for our meeting with Gabriel. There’s not much to be found about the Viper, but thanks to some connections Theo and Ryland have, we’re able to piece together a bit more information.
Ryland’s family does own a large hotel chain—he wasn’t lying about that—but both his family and Theo’s have their hands in several less-than-legal things along with their legitimate businesses.
It makes me wonder if there’s a single member of the wealthy elite in Halston who’s entirely above board. When I express that thought to Theo, he laughs, shaking his head ruefully. “Not a chance in hell, Rose. Nobody gets to a certain level of wealth and power without a few skeletons in their closet. Some with quite a bit more than a few.”
Marcus joins us whenever he’s awake, falling into deep discussion with the other two men as his fingers tangle in my hair or trace the patterns of the flowers tattooed on my damaged arm. We have a hard time keeping our hands off each other when we sleep together, so after his first night back at the house, I go back to sleeping in my room—although Theo joins me one night, and I slip downstairs into Ryland’s room on another.
After six days, which is more time than we need to prepare for a meeting with Gabriel, but less time than I would’ve liked for Marcus’s continued recovery, the guys decide we’re ready.
I think Marcus’s impatience has finally caught up with him, and I can’t complain too much. He looks better every day, the slight hollowness in his cheeks filling out again and the circles beneath his eyes vanishing slowly. The scars on his back are still shiny pink and angry looking, and I know they still cause him pain and probably will for a while yet. But he carries himself more like he used to, some of the tension draining from his shoulders.
His parents know he’s alive. He called them the day after Luca’s party to let them know he’s back. I could only hear his side of the conversation, but anger burned low in my belly as I listened anyway. His voice was clipped and curt, purposefully devoid of emotion, and it hurt my heart.
I think the Constantines are glad their son isn’t dead, but I honestly don’t know if it’s because they love their only remaining child or if they’re just glad their family still has a chance of winning Luca’s fucked up game.
That thought makes me even more determined to help Marcus and his brothers, to replace a way to end this whole thing before any more of them get hurt.
After everything the men have said, I’m a little worried that Gabriel will refuse to meet with us, so I’m relieved when he agrees.
As we head out to meet him on Saturday evening, I tilt my head a little to take in the looming skyline of downtown Halston.
“What is this place?”
“It’s a members only club,” Theo tells me, glancing at me from the driver’s seat. “Gabriel’s family owns it, although it’s not a front like a few of their other places. We let Gabriel pick our meeting spot, and he chose his home turf.”
A ripple of unease washes through me at that thought. I’m not opposed to the idea of a public meeting place, as opposed to going to his house or having him meet us at Theo’s. But I don’t like the idea that he’ll have a natural advantage there.
“It’ll be okay, Rose.” Theo reaches over to thread his fingers through mine, giving a squeeze. “We’ll just talk. None of us is gonna risk breaking Luca’s rules for this, so the worst that can happen is Gabriel says no.”
“And if he does, we try Michael. He might be interested in cutting a deal just based on the fact that Gabriel isn’t,” Ryland adds, drawing my attention to the back seat.
He and Marcus are both wearing dark wash jeans and henleys, and Theo is dressed similarly. I’m in a pair of nice jeans and one of the fancier tops the guys bought me to replace my old clothes, which Marcus assured me is enough for where we’re going.
If I still had my prosthetic arm, this might be one of the occasions when I would’ve decided to wear it, just to avoid extra attention. I’ll have to see about getting a new one at some point, but it’s far down on my list of priorities.
Just as I expected, I get a few curious stares and sidelong glances as the four of us step inside the large, luxurious space.
The Saraven is less like a dance club and more like a very upscale speakeasy. It’s massive, with a dining area and bar, a lounge, and smaller private rooms spread around the space. Theo points out all of these things to me in a low voice as Marcus leads us confidently down a corridor toward a small room at the end.
Gabriel Morello is waiting for us when we step inside the room. A cocktail waitress wearing a form-hugging dress keeps her gaze demurely diverted as she sets several glasses down on the large table in the center of the room. She slips out the door like a ghost as the four of us sit down.
Gabriel openly studies the inked remnant of my right arm, and I can feel all three of the men around me tense a little, their bodies shifting closer to mine.
Fuck. I really don’t want them to get in a fight with him over something this inconsequential. Not when there are bigger things we need to worry about.
“What?” I cock a challenging eyebrow at Gabriel, leaning forward to rest my elbows on the table. “You’ve never seen a tattoo before?”
His gaze jerks up to my face in surprise, and when he sees the sardonic smile on my face, he blinks. Then he laughs. “You’re funny. I like that.”
I shrug. I’m not that funny, but my comment did what it was meant to—it got him to stop staring at me, and it relaxed the three overprotective alphas who surround me, at least enough to keep them from reaching across the table to grab Gabriel by the throat.
Gabriel’s chuckle fades, and he slouches a little in his chair, cocking his head as he examines me and my companions. “So, why are we here? What do you want from me?” A smile touches his lips. “Or more importantly, what can you offer me?”
“What do you know about a man called the Viper?” Marcus asks.
Gabriel’s expression changes immediately. His relaxed posture evaporates as his dark eyes turn hard as glass. “That motherfucker. Who gave you his name?”
“Not important.” Marcus brushes the question aside. “But we know his name, and we know he’s been giving you and your family a hard time. Stealing suppliers, shaking down business owners, encroaching on your territory. This goes on too much longer, and you’re gonna lose your foothold in Halston. It’s a slippery fucking slope from the top of the heap to the bottom, isn’t it?”
Gabriel’s jaw clenches. “That’s it, then? You came here to threaten me?”
“Nah.” Ryland shakes his head. “We came here to offer you help. If you help us.”
“Fuck you.”
Theo shoots me a glance out of the corner of his eye. “See? This is why shit rarely gets accomplished between games. Nobody’s willing to make a deal.”
He speaks in a low voice, but Gabriel doesn’t miss the words. The dark-haired man leans forward, narrowing his eyes. He’s got heavy, blunt features, and they turn even harder as his face contorts with anger.
“And why the hell would I make a deal with you, huh? Everybody knows the three of you look out for each other—you expect me to believe you’re gonna look out for me too? That you won’t turn on me the second you get whatever you want?”
Marcus shrugs. “No. But then again, you’re running out of options. Say the game goes on for another few years before someone finally wins. Is the Morello family name even gonna mean shit in Halston by then? Or will your legacy have been wiped out by the Viper?”
Gabriel’s jaw clenches as he shifts his gaze to the side, looking a little like a petulant child. “You don’t know shit.” Then he glances back at Marcus. “What would you even do about him anyway? You think you can stop him when we can’t? Luca hasn’t even stopped him, so why the hell should I believe his successor would?”
“I don’t know why Luca hasn’t gotten involved,” Marcus admits, taking a sip of the whiskey the cocktail waitress left for each of us. “He has his own reasons for doing what he does. But that’s all the more reason for you to take our offer. The sooner a successor is chosen, the sooner Luca will step down. And you have my word that we’ll help you stamp out the Viper when that happens.”
“If you win.” Gabriel scowls.
“If we win.” Marcus spreads his hands slightly, looking languid and confident. “But I still say those are better odds than you have of holding off the Viper on your own.”
Gabriel purses his lips, studying Marcus before shifting his gaze to Ryland, Theo, and then to me. He stares at me the longest, as if he’s trying to figure out how I ended up firmly settled between the three of them, how I became a part of this at all—and what my presence might mean for him.
Finally, he tilts his chair back a little, shaking his head. “No. Not without proof. I don’t want promises of what you’ll do in the future. Promises you can break once you’ve got the power. You want my help? You want me to step aside so you can claim victory? Then show me I’ll actually benefit from having you where Luca is now. Take out the Viper. You get rid of him, and I’ll swear fealty to you.”
He finishes speaking and nods in satisfaction, as if daring the men to admit they won’t actually follow through on their promises. But Marcus just nods.
“All right. We’ll be in touch.”
Gabriel’s eyebrows twitch upward slightly. I get the feeling he expected the guys to be a lot more thrown by his terms than they are. He was probably hoping he could laugh us out of here, and he seems a little unsure how to respond as the four of us rise in unison. He stands too, grabbing his glass off the table and downing the remainder of his drink in one swallow.
Then he looks at Marcus again, his expression more serious this time. He nods, looking thoughtful. “If you do this, if you protect my family’s interests… yeah, I’ll support you.”
“Good.” Marcus dips his chin. “It’s the only way this ends without more unneeded death.”
We leave Gabriel standing behind the table and step back into the corridor. The same cocktail waitress who dropped the drinks off earlier steps forward as we pass her, slipping back into the room. We walk by a few more waitresses as we make our way back toward the main part of the club.
“That went better than it could have,” Theo comments, keeping his voice low.
“It did.” Marcus nods. “I think he was serious about his terms. Which means the Viper is fucking shit up for his family worse than he was letting on.”
Theo makes a noise in his throat. “The only problem is, now we’ve gotta replace a man who doesn’t want to be found. This guy is like a fuckin’ ghost.”
“We’ll replace him.” The grim determination in Ryland’s voice matches the feeling that hums in my chest.
We will replace him. We have to. We’ve been given an opening, and if we can get Gabriel on our side, it might become easier to force Michael to bend a knee too. The more dominoes fall, the more power we amass, the easier it will be to claim the last few pieces on the board.
I hate that Victoria was the one who offered us this lead, but we can’t ignore it just because it came from her.
My thoughts are whirling as we cut through a large, dimly lit bar area. There are cocktail tables spread around the space, and the low buzz of voices deep in conversation surrounds us as we make our way through the crowd.
I’m so lost in my mind that I crash into someone as he heads toward the bar, letting out a startled yelp as his hands grab my arms to catch me.
“Excuse me, I—”
The man breaks off, his eyes flickering as recognition passes through them.
I freeze, my gaze locked on his face.
The world seems to narrow to a pinpoint, everything else fading around us until all I can see is that face.
That face.
He’s older now, but he’s still got the same straight brow, dimpled chin, and square jaw. The same light brown eyes.
My stomach seems to fall out of my body. The places where his skin touches mine, where he’s grabbing my arms, burn with cold fire.
You’re fine.
The words echo in my head, just as much of a lie now as they were when he said them to me after the first time he raped me. When I held a pair of shredded underwear in my hands, clinging to them as if I could somehow put the damaged fabric back together. As if doing so might put the damaged pieces of me back together.
It became his mantra, his command, the only two words he regularly spoke to me, and he said it with more and more disdain every time—like he couldn’t believe I was ignoring his orders.
Every hour that’s passed since I finally escaped the foster home where Jordan McCabe tore away my innocence seems to melt away. It’s like no time has gone by at all, and whatever strength I’ve built inside myself over the past years vanishes in a flash.
I’m raw and bleeding.
Just the way he liked me.
“Sorry, miss.” Jordan smiles blandly at me, the recognition I saw in his eyes a second ago replaced by polite disinterest. He flicks a glance at the three men who surround me then steps away, disappearing into the crowd.
I blink after him, and Theo ducks his head to look at me. “Hey, Rose? You okay?”
My skin feels numb. It feels like I was standing face-to-face with my abuser for hours, but in reality, it must’ve been just a second or two. My heart is slamming against my ribs, blood rushing through my veins so fast I feel nauseated. But now that Jordan’s horrifying brown eyes are no longer focused on me, I manage to shove up the walls around my heart again, barricading the pain inside.
“Yeah.” I shake my head, swallowing. My mouth is dry as a fucking desert. “I’m okay. Let’s get out of here.”
He doesn’t look convinced, exchanging a quick glance with the other two men, but I drag in a deep breath, forcing my voice not to shake. “I just need some air. That’s all.”
“All right.” Concern darkens his blue-green eyes, but he puts a hand at my lower back, guiding me through the crowd as the other two men fall in beside us.
I keep waiting for the sick feeling in my stomach to fade, but as we settle into Theo’s car, it only gets worse. I’m breathing normally, but it’s as if the air has thinned, leaving me oxygen deprived anyway. I try to pay attention as the men discuss plans for tracking down the Viper and dealing with him. I know I should focus on their words and try to help them, but my mind feels like it’s spiraling. Every half-formed thought ends in the same place.
Him.
Jordan McCabe can’t touch me now. I’ve been out of his house for years, and I haven’t seen him since the day I moved out. He has no power over me anymore.
But he did touch me.
I can still feel the outlines of his brutal hands on my arms, and even though his grip wasn’t rough, my arms physically ache at the remembered contact.
His hands were on me tonight. Hands that’ve forced my legs open, that have been inside my mouth, inside me. Hands that I feared for so long.
And with that single touch, my world came crumbling down.
I’m so trapped inside my roiling thoughts that I don’t even notice the conversation in the car has died out as we pull into Theo’s garage.
“Angel.” Marcus’s voice is wary, filled with the same concern I heard in Theo’s tone earlier. “What’s going on?”
I should tell him. I promised myself I wouldn’t keep things from these men, that I’d let them see all of me.
But I don’t want anyone to see this part.
I don’t want this part to exist.
A sudden sharp jolt of pain lances through me at the thought. I can feel all three of the men gazing at me, but instead of answering Marcus’s question, I fumble with my seatbelt, shove the door open, and flee inside the house.
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