Chapter 15
Ashley
“You know about the Pact,” Ryker states, without batting an eye. He’s like an impassive rock. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Because you know I’m smart?”
“You are. But that knowledge could kill you. You know that?” A wrinkle appears between his eyebrows.
“I’m already a walking corpse. We all are. We all have a date written on our hearts. Sometimes knowing what surrounds us saves our lives instead of killing us.”
“Tell me first what you found out on your own?” He’s trying to connect with me, and I don’t like it at all.
I’m about to take my hands off his stomach and return to my seat, but he stops me. His hands press mine in the same place.
His abs tense under my touch. Through his shirt, I feel the heat radiating from him. The urge to slide my hands under the fabric, touch his skin, taste it, is overwhelming.
Get a grip, damn it!
“If this is what our work together is going to be like, then I’ll pass. I don’t need you for this,” I say with anger.
“Whoa, calm down, my Little Killer. I didn’t want to test you, just fill in the gaps. At least as much as I can tell you.” Ryker’s eyes soften. “Why do you want to know about the Pact?”
Take a deep breath. Maybe I really am overreacting? Distrust has been permanent in my life. It has saved my life, and my sister’s, more than once. Will I ever be able to fully trust anyone? Can I trust Ryker?
His voice interrupts my thoughts. “Okay. There’s a small flashlight in the glove compartment. Can you get it for me?”
Looking at him in surprise, I do as he asks. I open the glove compartment and there's the item he’s pointing to. It’s lying right next to the gun in its leather holster and the knife.
Boys and their toys.
Ryker grabs the oblong flashlight and presses the button on the side. An ultraviolet light flashes.
“The Pact isn’t the secret society it’s made out to be.
It’s not a cult either, but it’s definitely an elite brotherhood of the most influential people in the world.
People whose existence no one should ignore, but not because they have money or connections.
Because each of them is obsessed with playing God.
You wouldn’t recognize a member of the brotherhood on the street. ”
I hang on his every word, thirsty for knowledge.
He looks down, and my eyes follow his. Holding the flashlight, he points the light at his left wrist, where he normally has tattoos... Thanks to the ultraviolet light, a glowing image of a skull surrounded by ivy appears. It’s beautiful and terrifying at the same time.
A purple masterpiece.
I’ve never seen anything like it.
I stare at it until Ryker turns off the light and the image disappears completely. Poof. As if it had never been there.
“Nothing,” I whisper, enchanted.
“The tattoo is only visible in this light. Under any other circumstances, you won’t even see an outline on the skin. Won’t bore you with the details, but this is the only way an outsider can know if a person is a member of the Pact,” he explains, tossing the flashlight aside.
Our eyes meet again.
It’s no longer just an underground legend. It’s a mark on his skin. A mark of people who can crush Zoe and me with a single finger.
“You’re a member,” I say.
“You already knew that,” he replies, staring deeply into my eyes.
Yes, I knew.
“What are you in the brotherhood?”
Ryker sighs before answering. Something I don’t understand flashes in his eyes. Like he doesn’t want to mention it, but breaks down anyway. “I’m the son of the highest in the hierarchy.”
I’m not as skilled as he is at not giving anything away, but I hope he sees nothing I don’t want him to see.
I already know who you are, Ryker Elliot.
For Zoe’s sake and more, I need to learn as much as I can about the Pact. Retaliation for the mistake of stealing data could cost us everything.
“You’re next in line for that throne.”
“That remains to be seen,” he says cryptically but doesn’t elaborate.
“Your father is first in the Pact.” He nods. “Your grandfather was too.” Another nod. “And before him, his father.” His confirmation is unnecessary. “You’re the next generation, Ryker, and the successor to the highest rank in the Pact.”
My potential... whatever-he-is-to-me is also the man I should keep as far away from Zoe as possible. The irony of my life.
I don’t know what to think about all this yet. Ryker is attractive to me, but could it be more than that? I doubt it.
“What do you do for the Pact?”
Ryker raises his eyebrows at my question.
He’s right; he doesn’t have to answer. I know what he does. I know about his club, and I know he’s a killer just like me.
“Is that how the Jackal was born? Was he convenient to the Pact?”
His intense gaze pierces me. The low tone of his voice is meant to intimidate me.
“Don’t be fooled, and don’t even think for a moment that I don’t like what I do.
You know quite a lot about me. You know I love doing this.
I love inflicting pain; I love playing with my victims. Don’t try to see me as a good person, because there’s not a shred of goodness in me. ”
And yet I don’t quite believe him. Maybe I don’t want to believe it; I don’t know. But I feel that there is a part of him that doesn’t fit into this world.
“No man is completely evil or completely good. It’s impossible.”
“I was a child when I was last a good person. Since then, no one has seen that side of me. But—but for you, I want to be better.” His voice trails off. “Does that make sense?”
There’s a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
Something inside me suddenly trembles. It’s as though a single bolt on the gate has loosened its grip.
I answer him with a nod because my throat is tight. He leans down and gently kisses my lips, but before I can open them, he pulls away from me.
Too fast.
“The Pact. Power, abundance, control, tenacity. You won’t find that in people’s stories.
These are the values for which the brotherhood was created.
We pledge our lives for them, other people die for them, we die for them.
The oath we take is sacred—a code and a gift.
We not only create these values, but we also receive them. ”
“I’ve heard—” I try to find the right words. “I’ve heard the Pact is a drug cartel.”
Ryker’s laugh is loud but bitter. He shakes his head before answering.
“The Pact can be compared to an octopus. The difference is that instead of eight arms, this octopus has hundreds, even thousands. If you cut off two of them, six more grow back in their place. Do the same with a hundred and let’s see what happens.
Either way, some of these tentacles are legal businesses, trading companies, transport companies, IT companies, banks, and clubs.
Some of them are a different story and are involved in politics, illegal racing, underground fighting, arms dealing, the pornography industry. ..”
“And drugs,” I add for him.
“And drugs,” he confirms.
“I suppose this tentacle isn’t a local distributor on the street corner.”
“There’s nothing local about the Pact, my Little Killer.
It’s not a local club for snobs or a few bored millionaires.
You have to understand that. Name a country in the farthest corner of the world and you can be sure I’ll find my people there.
These are the generations of people who rule the world. ”
My Little Killer... Why do I like that so much?
“Drugs are everywhere, so where does that belief come from?” I ask, not quite understanding what he means.
Ryker looks away for a moment and gazes out the window. When his eyes meet mine again, I know he’s wondering how much he can tell me.
“Ash, you know this could kill you. Why do you want to know?”
“I’m just curious,” I say, trying to look innocent.
We stare at each other, both knowing that’s not true. Still, he doesn’t call my bluff.
“Curiosity killed the cat. I won’t let it do the same to you,” he finally says. His eyes sparkle.
“Aww, my big bad wolf cares—”
I don’t finish because Ryker grabs me around the waist and pulls me close to him, so close that now our noses are touching and our hot breaths mix. The warmth of his body is palpable even through the layers of clothing. He’s so hard everywhere and…
“Don’t tease me, Ash. Of course I care. I shouldn’t, but it’s too late for that now. I care, and you’d better remember that.”
In this one moment, I believe him. Or maybe I want to believe him?
His eyes wander over my face, and my gaze follow them. They linger on my lips for a long moment.
I slowly raise my hand and stroke the stubble on his cheek. It’s stiff, and it tickles my fingers. Once again, I try to find out more. “What about the drugs?”
“You’re asking too many questions,” he responds evasively and cuts off the subject. “Maybe next time.”
Too late. Ryker is closing off. Pressing him any further will raise more questions in his mind, and possibly even more suspicion.
I slide my fingers from his face to his neck and brush against the tattooed Roman numerals. They’re arranged vertically, one below the other, perfectly even.
“Then maybe you can tell me about this tattoo?”
“No, it’s none of your business.” Ryker’s voice becomes sharp and his eyes darken.
It’s something personal. Something very important to him.
The playful, seductive, and magnetic Ryker disappears, replaced by a cold and uncompromising Ryker. It’s his armor, his mask, and his defensive wall all at once.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to get on your nerves or to be so nosy. You’re right; it’s none of my business. Sometimes I can be such an insensitive bitch—”
Ryker’s hand grabs my hair at the roots and wraps it around hand in three movements. He pulls on it, and I respond with a hiss. My head tilts back to ease the pain a little, his face once again close to mine.
“Never talk about yourself like that again. Do you understand?”
Speechless, I accept his words like a prayer.
Isn’t it strange? The person who until now was my enemy, my rival, is slowly turning into my protector. Even from vigilante justice.
My heart skips a beat.
Ryker doesn’t wait for my answer. His lips collide with mine.
It’s a shame he didn’t tell me anything about the Pact that I hadn’t already learned from Alex’s files.