Chapter 22
The Prey
T he distant chime of the grandfather clock sounds entirely too loud as I slip through the front door, the sound reverberating through the otherwise silent house.
My footsteps echo in the empty hallway, each click of my heels on the marble floor making my heart pound louder. It’s late, so much later than I realized, and the thought of waking Michael sends a shiver down my spine. There’s no way to explain my missing pants that I left in the bar’s bathroom after Valentine ruined them.
My breath comes in short, sharp gasps as I slip inside the bedroom, intending to quickly grab something representing nighttime wear so it looks like I’ve been home for hours. As soon as I have one of my negligees between my fingers, I sneak back out, the heavy door clicking softly shut behind me.
I stop for a moment, listening for any signs of movements, any indication that I’ve disturbed Michael’s sleep, but the room remains still and silent.
With a sigh of relief, I make my way to my bathroom, my fingers fumbling with the buttons of my coat as I go. I need to erase every trace of Valentine from my skin, every lingering scent that might give me away .
As soon as I’m inside the bathroom, I lock the door behind me and switch the shower on. It hisses to life, and within seconds, steam billows out and envelops me as I drop my bag to the floor and undress at record speed. Then I move under the scalding spray, welcoming the way the heat stings my skin.
I scrub my body, my hands shaking as I try to wash away any evidence of what I’ve been up to. The soap slips from my grasp, landing with a splash on the tiled floor, and I bend to retrieve it, careful not to get my hair wet.
Once I’m done, I reach for the towel, my movements frantic as I try to dry myself off. My eyes catch sight of my reflection in the mirror, the image distorted by the steam and the water cascading down the glass. But I still see it…
The sight of my shoulder sends a fresh jolt of arousal through me; the bite mark. When Valentine made me come, he bit me. I don’t know why it didn’t register until now that it was hard enough to leave a mark, and now the evidence mars my porcelain skin.
As much as I want to keep staring at it, I can’t. I need to cover it up so Michael doesn’t see. I don’t want him knowing what I’ve done—that’s between Valentine and me.
My hands tremble as I attempt to cover the mark with foundation, my fingers clumsy and shaking. It’s a futile effort, the makeup smearing and streaking across my skin, a grotesque parody of the elegant woman I once was.
Suddenly, the sound of the bathroom door being kicked open reverberates through the room, the wood splintering and cracking under the force. I scream, a raw, primal sound that tears from my throat, my body freezing in terror as the steam swirls around me, thick and suffocating.
Michael’s voice cuts through the air, a cold, cruel sneer that sends a chill down my spine. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing only coming home now?” His footsteps echo through the bathroom, heavy and menacing, as he stalks toward me.
I stand frozen, my heart pounding in my chest, as the foggy glass of the mi rror reflects the monster that haunts my life. Michael’s cold, unforgiving gaze meets mine, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as they flick to the bite mark on my shoulder. Rage builds inside him, a dark, twisted storm that threatens to consume me.
But I won’t let it. I won’t let him win.
I try to run past him, but Michael is too fast, his hands closing around my arms as he drags me to his side, his fingers digging into my flesh like talons.
I scream, the sound echoing through the bathroom as I struggle against him, my desperate attempts to break free futile against his strength. The fear and pain consume me, a dark, suffocating wave that threatens to pull me under.
As Michael’s grip tightens, his fingers leaving bruises on my skin, I know that I’m running out of time. I need to find a way to escape, to break free from the nightmare that has become my life. And as I look into his cold, unforgiving eyes, I see the terrifying truth.
I’m not just fighting for my freedom. I’m fighting for my life.
Michael gives me a toothy smile that I know all too well; it’s the one he always shows just before he’s about to punish me.
“Well, wife,” he sneers. “Where the hell have you been?”
“I-I…” My voice trembles so much it’s almost impossible to speak.
With a swift movement, he tears the towel from my body. Then he runs a finger across the bite mark. “And who the fuck have you let touch you?”
“N-no one,” I stutter, determined not to say his name. “I-it was an a-accident.” My teeth chatter so badly I have to bite the inside of my cheek to make it stop.
Michael lets out a cruel mockery of a laugh and backhands me so hard I fall to the floor with a scream. Fear and fury ignite within me as he kicks my thighs.
“Michael!” I scream.
He lowers himself to the floor, and I instinctively curl in on myself, knowing that he’s just gotten started. Michael doesn’t waste any time.
Within seconds, I feel the first blow to my body. My arms shield my face as I desperately try to protect myself from his savage onslaught. The sound of his grunts and my own anguished cries fill the room, a symphony of suffering that echoes through the dark corners of my soul.
The taste of blood fills my mouth, and my vision blurs as I struggle to maintain consciousness. But I refuse to give in. I won’t let him break me. Because if he does… I might… damn. There’s no ‘might’ about it. If he takes me to the basement, I’m not sure I won’t let Valentine’s name spill. In all the years, I’ve never been able to hold anything back when Michael brings the whip out.
“No!” I scream.
With a surge of adrenaline, I force myself to uncoil, my body springing into action as I lash out at Michael with fierce determination. My fists connect with his chest, each blow fueled by the rage and desperation that have been building within me for so long. Surprise shines in his eyes, followed by a brief flash of uncertainty as I fight back with a ferocity he never expected.
It’s not enough, though.
His strength overpowers me, his hands closing around my throat as he slams my head against the floor. I gasp for air, my lungs burning as I claw at his fingers, trying to break free from his crushing grip. The world around me fades in and out, the edges of my vision growing dark as I struggle to stay conscious.
“You’ll pay for this, you fucking bitch,” Michael snarls as he slams my head into the floor one more time.
Then he stands up, kicking my arm once before leaving the bathroom. Blood seeps from the back of my head, the scent overwhelmingly potent. But as soon as I hear the front door slam shut, I drag myself across the floor until my trembling hand can reach my bag. My fingers fumble as they search for my phone.
Jack… I need to call Jack.
I manage to press the button to dial his number and put my phone on speaker.
“Ruby?” Jack’s voice is a welcome sound, and I feel a surge of relief wash over me. But then I hear the worry in his tone, the fear that he’s not used to hiding. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
My voice is barely a whisper as I try to speak, my words coming out in a r ush of panic. “Jack… I-I… need help.”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line. “Where are you, Ruby? What’s going on?” His tone is heavy with tension, with fear.
My mind races with fear and confusion, making it hard to form the words to explain. I stumble over my words, trying to convey the urgency of my situation. “I’m… I’m at home. Michael… he… he attacked me.”
When he speaks again, his fear is replaced by fury, the protective instincts that have always been a part of him coming to the surface. “I’m on my way, Ruby. Just hold on. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
As I listen to the sound of Jack’s voice, I feel a glimmer of hope. He’ll help me. He’ll make sure I’m safe. But then my vision starts to waver, the darkness closing in around me as I slip in and out of consciousness. The phone slips from my hand, and I feel myself slipping away, my last thought a desperate plea for help.
I’m not sure how much time has passed when I regain consciousness, my head still throbbing and my vision blurred. My eyelids flutter open, revealing a dimly lit room that’s unfamiliar. At the distant sound of raised voices followed by footsteps echoing nearby, I let out a broken whimper.
Bits and pieces of memories swirl through my mind like shards of broken glass. The bathroom. Valentine’s bite. The desperate call to Jack. And then… nothing.
My head throbs in time with my racing heart as I struggle to sit up, the sheets rustling beneath me. I wince at the sharp pain that shoots through my body, a cruel reminder of the beating I endured.
The voices grow louder, making it all too easy to recognize them; it’s my brothers. Their heated words filter through the haze in my mind, fueling my confusion.
“You should have told me, Jack! I could have stopped this!” Nick’s voice booms, filled with fury.
“Fuck off,” Jack retorts, his tone tense. “Why is it you always need to spin shit around like it’s affecting you? Our sister was fucking beaten unconscious and you’re worried about your image? Go fuck yourself.”
“Fuck me? Fuck you for trying to hide this from me,” Nick spits back.
I strain to listen, my heart pounding in my chest.
The door to the room flies open, and Jack storms in, his face a mask of concern and anger. His eyes sweep over me, and if his wince is anything to go by, I’m not going to win any beauty pageants any time soon. In fact, whatever damage he sees on my battered body seems to ignite a fire within him, his jaw clenching tightly.
I look down at myself, realizing I’m dressed in what I assume is one of his t-shirts. It’s so big it’s hanging off one shoulder.
Tentatively, I lift my hand and cup the back of my head. Instantly, my head pounds, and I hiss through clenched teeth as my fingers touch what feels like… “Did I get stitches?” I ask. My voice is so hoarse it comes out like a croak. I clear my throat and try again. “Did I—”
“Yes,” Nick barks from behind Jack.
“Rubes,” Jack breathes, his voice barely a whisper.
He crosses the room in a few quick strides, the floorboards creaking beneath his weight. I flinch at his sudden movement, and he freezes, his eyes filled with regret. He reaches out tentatively, as if afraid I might shatter at his touch.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his thumb gently brushing away a tear that escapes my eye. “I promise I’ll make this right.”
His words are a balm to my wounded soul, and I lean into his touch, seeking solace in the familiar warmth of his embrace. But as I do, his fingers brush against the bite mark on my shoulder, the memory of Valentine’s touch sending a shiver down my spine.
I pull away, my eyes wide with fear. Jack’s gaze follows mine, and he notices the mark for the first time. His eyes narrow, his anger simmering just below the surface. “Who did this to you, Ruby?” he demands, his voice low and dangerous.
Nick moves closer, his dark eyes are blazing with fury, the muscles in his jaw clenching. “What the fuck happened, Ruby?” he growls, his voice barely contained.
I try to sit up, wincing as my bruised… everything protests.
“Ruby, answer me,” he demands, his voice low and dangerous. “Who did this to you?”
I hesitate, torn between my loyalty to Valentine and the fact I know I can’t lie to my brothers. They’ll both see right through any dishonesty I might try to serve them when I haven’t had time to come up with a good answer.
“It’s complicated,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “Please, Nick. I don’t want to talk about it.”
His eyes narrow in anger. He takes a step toward me, and I flinch instinctively. “Complicated?” he snarls. “Is that what you call this? Look at yourself, Ruby. You’re a fucking mess.”
“That’s enough,” Jack growls. “Stop attacking her.”
I try to push myself up onto my elbows, but the pain is too much, and I collapse back onto the bed, tears streaming down my face. “Please,” I beg again, my voice barely audible. “Don’t be a Knight right now. Be my brother.”
His expression softens, anger momentarily giving way for concern. But then it’s gone, replaced by a steely determination. “Who did it, Ruby?” he asks again, his voice low and dangerous. “Was it Michael?”
“No,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “It wasn’t Michael.”
He takes a step closer to the bed, making me feel even smaller as he towers over me. “Then who?” he demands, his voice barely contained. “Why won’t you tell us who did this to you?”
Anger like I’ve never felt before courses through my veins, giving me the strength I need to push myself up. This time, I don’t feel any pain, only a morbid satisfaction as both my brothers’ eyes widen comically.
“Enough,” I hiss. “If I tell you it’s none of your damn business, you need to stay out of it.”
“We just want to help, Rubes,” Jack says sheepishly.
Shaking my head, I meet his gaze, letting him see the anger undoubtedly visible in my gaze. “No, you don’t. You want to pry, Jack.” Turning my gaze on Nick, I add, “Both of you. Do you think I’m here becaus e I needed an excuse to go on a spa weekend? No. So how about you let me heal in fucking peace?”
It takes a ridiculous amount of strength to stop myself from rambling. It’s almost like now that I’ve started, I can’t stop throwing accusations at them. I know they don’t deserve my wrath, but sometimes offense is the best defense, and I refuse to let them know I’ve been intimate with Valentine.
As I look between them, they shrink, at least that’s how it feels to me. They both shake their Mafia images and, in place of those ruthless men, are my brothers. Two men it feels as though I haven’t seen in years. Or more accurately, I haven’t seen Nick like this in years.
“You really won’t tell us?” Nick implores, taking my hand as he sits down next to me.
I shake my head, immediately regretting the movement when the pain flares up again. “Shit,” I whimper, slapping a hand over my eyes as even the sparse light in the bedroom starts to feel like needles stabbing into my brain. “How did I get here?”
Jack’s the one to answer me after he sits down on my other side. “I found you bleeding on the bathroom floor and called doc…” He shrugs as though it was no big deal, but the haunting truth is all too visible in his eyes. “… she came to yours and Michael’s house, and patched you up the best she could. Once she was done, I brought you here.”
“And Michael?” I ask, panicked at the thought they’ve done something to him.
“He’s fine,” Nick growls. “At least for now.”
Closing my eyes, I inhale sharply, pondering how to best go about making it clear they can’t touch him. I know them both well enough to know they’d like nothing more than to inflict the same pain on my husband, but they can’t.
If I want to avoid the worst contents of the marital contract, Michael needs to remain in good health.
“Don’t meddle,” I whisper, too exhausted to continue talking at a normal volume. “It was my fault.”
“The fuck it was!” Jack growls angrily.
“Promise me,” I demand, pretending I didn’t hear his outburst.
“ Ruby, I—”
I cut Nick off. “Promise me,” I repeat.
Ignoring Jack doesn’t feel good, but Nick is technically the only one I need the promise from. Because if he forbids Jack from retaliating, there isn’t much my brother can do. What a messed up life.
“Fine,” Nick scoffs. “Fucking fine, Ruby. I promise we’ll stay out of it.”
“T-thank you,” I stutter as my eyelids grow heavier. “Both of you.”
I’m almost asleep when I feel a pair of lips grazing my forehead. “Go to sleep, Rubes,” Jack murmurs. “You can stay here as long as you want to.”
Despite my attempts at making myself thank him, I can’t seem to form the words.
“Yeah, don’t worry about a thing,” Nick adds. “Carolina and Valentine can handle Willow’s Foundation for now. I think they’re meeting this week.”
As I let the darkness reclaim me, I do so with a smile. I protected Valentine.