Chapter 12
ELENA
Waking slowly, I stretched against the warm sheets and felt a deep, delicious ache that made my cheeks burn.
My lips curved into a sleepy smile before my eyes even opened.
The memory of Reeve’s hands gripping my hips, his deep voice growling my name, and how he’d held me afterward like he couldn’t stand to let me go all washed over me.
I rolled onto my side, reaching out instinctively, but the other side of the bed was empty. My eyes snapped open. The sheets were cool, and the room was quiet in a way that felt wrong. A flicker of confusion quickly turned into uncertainty as I wondered where Reeve had gone. And why.
I pushed myself upright, the movement reminding me just how thoroughly my body had been claimed by him. The ache between my thighs and the tenderness in the spots where I had beard burn from his late-night scruff should have made me feel secure. Wanted.
Instead, anxiety knotted in my chest as I wondered if he regretted what had happened between us. If I’d been bad in bed. Too inexperienced or eager. If I’d misunderstood everything he’d whispered against my skin.
I dragged the sheet up to my chest, hoping it would make me feel less vulnerable as my mind spun. I scanned the unfamiliar space, but he was nowhere to be found. Then I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to breathe past the rising panic.
I’d never felt so insecure, and Reeve wasn’t here to reassure me.
Almost as though he felt me spiraling, the door swung open without warning, and Reeve strode inside. The moment he spotted me sitting upright in his bed with the sheet clutched to my chest, he froze. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I blurted, shaking my head. “I’m fine.”
He slowly moved closer, like he didn’t want to spook me, but wasn’t buying a single word. “Elena.”
I tilted my head down to stare at my hands instead of him. “I just…woke up and didn’t know where you were.”
He waited silently for me to give him more.
I heaved a deep sigh and admitted, “I wasn’t sure if I did something wrong. Umm…last night.”
It only took two strides for Reeve to close the distance between us. He braced one hand on the mattress beside my hip, and the other lifted to cup my chin with so much gentleness. His thumb skimmed the edge of my jaw before he forced me to meet his gaze.
The heat there made butterflies swirl in my belly.
His voice was rough with disbelief as he murmured, “Nothing about last night was wrong, baby.”
“Really?” I whispered.
“It was fucking perfect, and it’s taking everything I have not to rip this sheet away and take you again.” His gaze dropped briefly to my mouth, and I thought he was going to kiss me. Then his fingers flexed like he was fighting the urge to pull me closer. “But we need to talk.”
“About what?” I asked, my brows drawing together.
He looked at me like he was barely hanging on to his control, which was its own reassurance. But my shoulders slumped when he replied, “Not here.”
“Okay,” I whispered, unsettled by the serious gleam in his dark eyes.
Reeve stepped away long enough to grab a folded pile from the dresser. “Put this on.”
The black T-shirt and pair of sweatpants looked like they could fit two of me. Heat crept up my neck as I tugged them on beneath the sheet, feeling shy even though he’d done more than see every inch of my body last night.
When I stood, the sweats sagged until I rolled the waistband three times, and the shirt hung off one shoulder.
Reeve’s gaze flicked over me, his eyes flaring as though the sight of me in his clothes did something to him. Then he jerked his chin toward the door. “Sorry, baby. We gotta go.”
He stuck close as he escorted me through the clubhouse.
A few people glanced our way, but all it took was one look at Reeve for them to look away just as fast. I appreciated him staying at my side like a shield, but I was worried about what we were walking toward.
Judging by the tension rolling off him, it wasn’t good.
When we reached the end of a long hallway, Reeve opened a door and guided me inside. King sat behind a wide desk, while Wizard and Ace were seated at the round conference table on the right side of the office. All three men looked grim.
My pulse raced as I sank onto one of the chairs across from King. Although I’d met each of the guys while working at Hellbound Studio, I felt out of place.
It was a little better when Reeve chose to stand beside me, one large hand settling on my shoulder.
Wizard was the first to speak. His elbows rested on his knees, and his expression was sober. “Those designs you’ve been sketching?”
My stomach tightened. “What about them?”
“They’re identifiers. Syndicate markers.”
I blinked at him, my brows drawing together. “I don’t understand.”
Wizard explained, “The symbols aren’t decorative. They communicate things like rank and territory.”
I shook my head. “That’s not possible. Jareth is part of the Atlanta art scene. Why would he have me draw or tattoo stuff like that?”
Reeve’s hand tightened on my shoulder.
“That’s a longer story.” Wizard leaned forward. “But there’s no denying that he’s used your inherent talent to reconstruct underground symbols.”
“Perfectly, from incomplete sources,” Reeve muttered.
My pulse skipped. “You’ve seen me draw. That’s just how my brain works.”
“Exactly the point.” King strummed his fingers on the top of his desk. “That pattern ability of yours lets you rebuild these markers better than the people who invented them. Marks knew that when he offered to mentor you. He used it.”
My breath caught painfully in my chest. “Used it how?”
Ace looked at King, like he wanted permission before speaking. King gave a barely perceptible nod. “You tattooed men who work for him, right?”
I nodded. “Well, yeah. But it was just to get experience with people instead of fake skin like I’d been doing. They volunteered.”
“It wasn’t practice,” Wizard corrected. “He was sending those men into organizations they didn’t belong to. Your tattoo work lets them blend in. Your reconstructions were functioning identity documents.”
My stomach flipped, and it felt like a cold weight pressed against my chest. “No. I didn’t—I would never—”
“You didn’t know.” Wizard’s tone left no room for argument. “But you’re a living index. You can reproduce entire symbol families without ever seeing the originals. That makes you valuable. And dangerous.”
“All those discipline exercises and his secrecy rules…” My voice trailed off as I tried to wrap my head around everything. “They were just what Jareth said to hide what he was having me do?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” King confirmed.
“So I helped a criminal organization.” I swallowed hard, my eyes burning as the full weight of what they were telling me sank in. “And I put you all in danger when I asked Ink to let me apprentice at Hellbound Studio.”
Reeve slid his hand from my shoulder to the back of my neck, grounding me with the warm, steady pressure of his palm. “Stop.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t see it. I should have—”
“No.” Reeve knelt beside my chair so we were eye level. “None of this is your fault. Not one damn piece of it.”
My throat strained around the knot forming there. “But I let him use me.”
His gaze stayed locked on mine, fierce and unyielding. “You trusted someone who was supposed to guide you. He manipulated that trust. That’s on him. Not you.”
I pressed my trembling hands against my thighs, trying to steady my breathing.
“There’s more,” King warned.
“More?” I echoed, my stomach twisting. I wasn’t sure how there could possibly be anything else after everything they’d already told me.
King dipped his chin toward my leg. “That tattoo on your calf is a claim. It signifies that you belong to his organization. More specifically, to him.”
For a second, I couldn’t breathe. I was so angry that tears pricked behind my eyes.
“He marked me?” My voice cracked, humiliation burning beneath the fury. My skin crawled at the thought. “I trusted him. I thought he was helping me grow as an artist, and he branded me like property?”
Reeve’s jaw clenched so hard I heard his teeth grind before he bit out, “Yes.”
I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes, mortified. “I didn’t know. I didn’t see any of this. I should’ve realized something was off.”
“Marks is a manipulative son of a bitch who knows how to exploit talent without anyone suspecting a thing. His reputation in the art world is pristine,” King growled. “You were young, gifted, and he positioned himself perfectly. That’s not on you.”
Wizard nodded. “You were kept in the dark by design.”
Ace added, “And now that we know what he’s doing, we can stop it.”
Their reassurance should have made me feel better, but shame still twisted in my chest. I forced my chin up because now wasn’t the time for a pity party. “I want to help. If my drawings or something in my head can undo any of what he’s done, I’m in.”
Reeve slid a hand around my waist and pulled me to my feet. Then he leaned down, his breath hot against my ear as he murmured, “I told you. Once I had you, there was no going back.”
I didn’t know how much I needed to hear that until he said it, but it didn’t tell me what I needed to know. “Does that mean I get to help?”
King was the one who answered, “Yes.”
Reeve straightened with a nod. “But you’re not leaving the compound until we figure all this shit out. I’m not risking you.”
My reply was easy since I wasn’t going to argue with what he thought was best right now. “I’m okay with that.”
The bottom line was I trusted Reeve more than I trusted myself right now.