6. Rue
RUE
My limbs hang loose, boneless. Every muscle feels wrung out, stretched, used in ways I never imagined. The ache between my thighs pulses with each breath—not quite pain, but a deep, satisfied soreness that makes me hyper-aware of everything they did to me.
"I can walk," I mumble, but my voice comes out hoarse, wrecked.
Roman's arms tighten under my knees and back. "Sure you can, little one."
"I'm serious." I try to lift my head from where it rests against his bare chest, but it weighs a thousand pounds. "Just... need a minute."
"You're not walking anywhere." Reed's deep rumble comes from somewhere behind us. His large hand cups the back of my neck, thumb stroking the sensitive skin there. "Not after what we just put you through."
Heat floods my cheeks despite everything. After what they just did—after I let them do it—I shouldn't feel shy. But something about the tenderness in their voices, the careful way Roman cradles me like I might break, makes my throat tight.
The dungeon door clicks shut behind us. Cool air hits my fevered skin as Roman carries me up a flight of stairs, and I shiver.
"Almost there, baby." Roman presses his lips to my temple. "We've got you."
Reed moves ahead, pushing open what must be a bathroom door. Warm light spills out, and steam already clouds the air—he must have started the water before coming back for me.
"I can bathe myself." The protest sounds weak even to my ears. "I'm not helpless."
"Never said you were." Reed turns to face us, arms crossed over that massive tattooed chest. His steel-gray eyes soften as they sweep over me. "But you just gave us everything, little girl. Let us take care of you."
My breath catches. Something in the way he says it—so matter-of-fact, so final—makes my eyes sting.
"Rue." Roman's voice drops lower as he steps into the bathroom. "Stop fighting. Just for tonight."
I bite my lip, taste blood. Fighting is all I know. Fighting for Kurt, fighting to survive, fighting to keep myself guarded and safe. Letting go feels impossible.
But my body's already surrendered. Every sore, aching muscle, every place they touched and claimed, tells me I'm theirs now. The seed they pumped so deep inside me—the baby they might have already made—binds me to them in ways I can't take back.
Roman sets me down on the edge of a huge claw-foot tub, steadying me with both hands. My legs shake, threatening to give out.
"Easy." Reed's there in an instant, one large palm spreading across my lower back. "We've got you."
They sandwich me between them—Roman crouched in front, Reed solid and warm at my back. Their hands move in sync, supporting my weight, guiding me into the steaming water.
The heat stings at first. I gasp, gripping Roman's forearms.
"Shh." His dark eyes lock on mine. "Breathe through it."
I do, and slowly the burn fades to a deep, melting warmth. My muscles unknot, and I slump back against the tub's curved edge.
"There she goes." Reed's approval rumbles through his chest. "That's our good girl."
The words shouldn't affect me. But they do—a flutter low in my belly despite the soreness, despite everything.
I'm in so much trouble.
But warm water laps against my skin as Reed's large hands work a sponge across my shoulders. Roman kneels beside the tub, washing my arms with careful strokes that feel absurdly gentle after what they just did to me.
"I'm sorry." The words tumble out before I can stop them. "I didn't want to—I'm only doing this for Kurt."
Reed's hand pauses. "Your brother."
"Yeah." I stare at the suds sliding down my wrist. "He's all I have. The only person who matters."
Roman dips the sponge back in the water, squeezes it over my collarbone. "Tell us."
So I do. The whole ugly story pours out while they clean every inch of me with those big, scarred hands.
"Mom left Dad two years ago. Kurt was only ten." I twist a curl around my finger, pull until it hurts, until the sharp sting grounds me in the present. "She wanted to be with you, Reed. Thought you'd give her the life she deserved—the money, the house, the status she'd always been chasing."
Reed's jaw goes tight, a muscle jumping beneath the salt-and-pepper scruff. But he doesn't speak. Just keeps washing my back in those slow, methodical circles, his large hands steady against my spine even as I feel the tension coiling through his frame.
"Dad was a drunk. Gambler, too. Lost everything we had over and over—the apartment, the car, even Kurt's birthday money one time.
" My throat closes as the memories flood back.
"I had to be the mom. Make sure Kurt ate something besides crackers and peanut butter, got to school with his homework done, had clean clothes that didn't smell like cigarettes and stale beer.
I was just a kid myself, barely sixteen, but someone had to do it. "
"Jesus," Roman mutters, his voice rough with something I can't name. His hand stills on my arm.
"After high school, I couldn't go to college like I'd planned.
Had to work instead because Kurt got sick.
" The tears come now, hot and fast, mixing with the bathwater as they drip from my chin.
"Started with urinary tract infections and we couldn't afford the right doctors, the right tests.
By the time anyone listened to me, really looked at him...
" My voice cracks. "His kidneys had already failed. "
Reed's hand cups my chin, tilts my face toward his. Those steel-gray eyes burn into mine. "And your father?"
"He got back with Mom six months ago. Right after you divorced her." I swallow hard. "She sold the property you gave her, took the money and ran back to him."
Reed's other hand clenches around the sponge. Water drips between his fingers. "That's when she liquidated the Portland house."
"She showed him all that cash and he took her back.
Took us both back." Shame burns through me.
"They started running scams together. Real estate fraud, mostly.
I tried to stay out of it—got decent jobs, waited tables, worked retail—but they said if I didn't help...
" My voice breaks. "They'd stop paying for Kurt's treatment. "
The silence stretches while I wait for them to call me a liar. To throw me out. To tell me they don't want anything to do with someone raised by thieves and cons.
Instead, Reed's thumb traces my jaw. "We believe you."
My head snaps up. "What?"
"We ran a full background check, little girl." His voice stays steady, matter-of-fact. "Found the hospital records, the payment plans your parents defaulted on, the eviction notices. Found your work history too—three jobs at once, trying to cover what they wouldn't."
Roman's hand covers mine where it grips the tub's edge. "We know you're not like them."
"But I am." The confession rips out of me. "I helped them. I lied to people, pretended to be someone I wasn't, took their money?—"
"To save your brother." Reed cuts me off. "That ends now."
I blink at him through the steam. "I don't?—"
"I'll pay for Kurt's medical bills. All of them." Reed's steel-gray eyes lock onto mine, and the authority in his voice brooks no argument. "Every treatment, every surgery, whatever he needs. But you're done with your parents. Done scamming people. You stay here with us. Forever."
My throat closes. "I can't just?—"
"Yes, you can." Roman's hand tightens over mine. "We'll take care of your brother, Rue. Get him the best doctors, the transplant he needs. But no more cons. No more putting yourself in danger for people who don't give a damn about you."
"They're still my parents." The words taste like ash.
Reed's thumb traces my lower lip. "They used you. Threatened a sick child to make you cooperate. That's not family, little girl. That's abuse."
The truth of it hits like a fist to the gut. All those years of telling myself they loved us, that they were just struggling, that if I worked hard enough I could fix everything—lies I told myself to survive.
"And you're going back to school." Roman shifts closer, his dark eyes intense. "Finish your degree. Study whatever you want. We'll handle the rest."
"I can't afford?—"
"We can." Reed cuts me off. "You're ours now. That means we take care of you. Both of you."
I stare between them, these two massive, tattooed men who should terrify me. Who did terrify me just hours ago. But the way they look at me now—like I'm something precious, something worth protecting—makes my chest ache.
"Why?" My voice breaks. "Why would you do this?"
"We're your stepfamily, yeah." Roman's thumb brushes across my cheekbone. "But we're still strangers to you. You didn't know us before tonight. Had no reason to trust us."
My breath hitches as his words sink in.
"But you walked in here anyway." His dark eyes search mine. "Willing to do everything, risk everything, throw away your future—all to save your brother. That kind of loyalty?" His voice drops lower. "That kind of heart? It's rare, Rue. And we're not letting you go."
The finality in his tone should scare me. Instead, something warm and fragile unfurls in my chest.
"You're ours now," Reed adds, his large hand sliding to the nape of my neck. His grip is possessive but gentle. "We protect what's ours. And that includes Kurt."
Tears blur my vision. "I don't understand. You barely know me."
"We know enough." Reed's thumb strokes my pulse point. "We know you're exactly what we've been looking for."
"What do you mean?"
Roman's lips curve into a small smile. "Someone worth keeping, little one."
Tears spill over, and I can't stop them. Can't stop the sob that rips from my throat as everything I've carried for so long finally breaks open.
"We've got you," Roman whispers. "We've got you both."
"Alright." Reed's voice cuts through the quiet, firm but not unkind. "Night's getting late, and we've worn you out enough for one evening."
My cheeks burn. Worn out doesn't begin to cover it. Every muscle aches, and the soreness between my thighs throbs with each shift of my weight.