Chapter 5
Outside the sky turned gray, rain coming down lightly. The change in weather was sudden, but he’d brought an umbrella from his room, intending on going straight to campus from here later.
Rue was in the library at the main house, flipping through a comic book series that Ryker had introduced him to years ago. The final issue had recently been published, and he’d purchased a copy, part of him hoping to use it as a peace offering.
If only he could gather enough courage to actually do so.
Remembering how Ryker had made him sit through an hour of hypovolley practice the other day made his cheeks heat. The possessiveness in the order, the stares Rue had received, and the whispers wondering what was between them, were all things that had haunted him since.
Because he’d liked it.
Because a part of him wanted to be publicly claimed, and publicly claim the Black Hart in return.
But it was all an illusion.
Ryker had never wanted him. It’d all been in Rue’s head, and—
The sound of the library door slamming open startled him, and he was partially out of his seat, peering around the stack of books as he listened to heavy boots against the thin carpet.
He knew that gait.
His heart was already beating rapidly by the time Ryker turned the corner, and they both froze when their eyes met, Rue still hovering over his chair at the table, Ryker seemingly coming to some sort of decision.
What happened next was an explosion of motion that Rue wouldn’t be able to properly track later, when he thought back on it.
One second, the Black Hart had been still as a statue, and the next he was at Rue’s back, shoving Rue down over the table, a palm on his skull, pinning his face to the hard wood no matter how Rue struggled or hissed.
Rue fought back, tried to push up, but his strength was nothing compared to Ryker’s, and the Black Hart held him down, almost patiently waiting for him to tire himself out.
He wanted to ask what this was about, knew he hadn’t done anything recently to set Ryker off.
Aside from when he’d confronted him about the wrecked sound studio, Rue actively avoided him at all costs.
It was easier that way, for the both of them.
Though it was for different reasons, it was clear that neither of them could tolerate seeing the other.
His eyes caught sight of the book a few inches away from his face. A stack of all the past issues was on the other side of him, arranged on the table. Had Ryker noticed?
Pitiful, to be wondering that at a time like this.
To still want to please him, even as he crushed Rue’s head and dug his nails into his scalp.
Violence for the Harts was as simple as eating was for everyone else. It was almost as if they had to do it to survive. A basic need, essential for their continued existence. He’d grown up witnessing it, both Ryker and Ryder quick to temper and solve their problems with fists and fury.
Only, in the past, it was rare for them to turn that bloodlust on him. They’d disagreed, of course, as everyone does, but Ryker had always held himself back. Been careful with him.
That privilege once reserved for Rue had clearly been rescinded.
But—
“I’m going to ask you something,” Ryker spoke as soon as Rue had gone lax, leaning over him, his body sealing over the back of Rue’s in a way that made his heart flutter and his chest constrict tightly. “You’re going to answer me truthfully. Nod if you understand.”
It was difficult with his face squished against the table, but Rue did it as best he could.
“Good. That’s good.” The Black Hart inhaled, seemingly trying to get a hold of himself after all.
His next words dashed any hope of that from Rue’s mind instantly.
“Did you fuck my brother, Rue?”
The air whooshed out of him, ears ringing, panic setting in strong. It was so intense, his vision winked in and out, and his stomach lurched, making him worried he’d vomit.
No.
No.
No.
No.
How could he have found out?
How—
“Did you spread these legs,” Ryker’s left hand dropped to the outside of Rue’s thigh, traveling up to his hip as he spoke darkly, “and invite my twin inside of you?”
Good Light.
Tears pricked at the corner of Rue’s eyes, mind trying to untangle the mixture of feelings. The ones the Black Hart’s deadly words were bringing.
And the ones caused by the almost gentle touch on his body.
Ryker’s hand shifted to the narrow of Rue’s back, and then his fingers slipped beneath his waistband and tugged once threateningly before going still. “Answer the question.”
“I…” What was he supposed to say?
He’d wished it’d been Ryker?
He’d thought it had been him?
“He was waiting for me and…” And what?
Rue couldn’t say it.
He squeezed his eyes shut.
“Did he force you?” Ryker’s voice dropped lower, and it was impossible to miss the way it hitched.
Was he trying to give Rue an out?
Offering him an excuse?
Why?
Was it because hating him for leaving was already as much as Ryker could handle? Perhaps he really feared he’d kill him for this.
Would he?
A desperate sound slipped past Rue’s lips, and he wished he could bury his head in his arms, hide his face, but the Black Hart’s grip held firm.
“Did Ryder force you to—”
“No.” The confession was deafening, and Ryker went still over him.
“You wanted it?”
Rue tried shaking his head, still unable to do it properly. “Please. Let me up. We can talk—”
“You’ll run,” he said it with so much certainty, even Rue momentarily believed it.
“I won’t,” he insisted anyway. “Please, let’s just—”
“If you wanted to explain,” Ryker growled, “if you wanted me to understand, then you would have stayed. You would have been there for me, no matter what. Even if he meant more to you than I did. Even if you—”
“That isn’t true!” Rue didn’t want him to think that.
But somehow, his rebuttal only seemed to piss the Black Hart off more.
Rue’s pants were torn from his body, the material pushed down until they pooled at his ankles. He gasped as soon as he realized, picking up his struggles.
Ryker grabbed the comic book with his free hand, and a second later used it to whack him on the ass.
Rue froze, completely shocked, but the Black Hart didn’t like that either.
He spanked him with the book, the loud cracking of the glossy cover against his sensitive flesh echoing in the library. The surprise wore off quickly, and he registered the sting each time he was hit. The burn that spread throughout his body after.
Things with Ryder—when he’d thought it was Ryker—had never been like this. They’d been charged, sure, but not…intense. Not in this way. Rue would even go so far as to say the sexual encounters between them had been very vanilla, with Ryder acting as though he was afraid of breaking him.
Ryker wasn’t worried about that now.
With each spank against his delicate rear, he increased the strength, until he must have been using his full force to deliver each blow.
He paused only long enough to switch, the book moving to his other hand, his left one capturing Rue around the nape to keep him in place as the abuse started up again.
Rue wailed, fat, ugly tears spilling from his eyes. The cheeks on his face burned almost as much as the globes of his ass, and he imagined he must look incredibly unattractive right now, as he sobbed like a baby and—
“You’re hard.” Ryker came to a sudden stop. “Light, Rue. Are you fucking serious?”
He made a sound—a pathetic, reedy noise in the back of his throat.
“Is this how he touched you?” Ryker demanded.
“No!”
“If you preferred it rough, you should have said so.” The book sailed across the table, hitting one of the bookshelves before clattering to the ground. Then Ryker’s free hand shoved the material of Rue’s shirt up, exposing his back, thumb tracing the length of his spine.
There was a familiar snick sound, and Rue went so still, it was a wonder his heart dared to keep beating. He felt the flat edge of the blade next, cold against his ribs as the Black Hart trailed it up his right side.
The switchblade had been a gift from Rue for Ryker’s sixteenth birthday, an item that was practically always on his person.
And now he was using it to threaten him.
“Don’t,” it came out in a whoosh of air, weak and quiet.
“Frightened?” Ryker taunted. “Like a little pain but not the fear? They’re similar receptors, did you know?
All of it. Misattribution of arousal. Adrenaline and dopamine, that particular cocktail that signals our body to react to outside stimulus.
I suppose arousal is preferable to you, that it?
Better than suffering. You’d rather leak precome all over the carpet than piss yourself. ”
“No,” Rue denied it. Even though even he found that stupid, when all the signs that what Ryker was saying was true were right there.
He was hard. His dick was against the edge of the table, forced in an uncomfortable position with it pointed down at the floor. His balls were tight, the vibrations from the spanking having gone straight to them in a way Rue had been previously unfamiliar with.
“Is that what happened between the two of you? You’ve lived a sheltered life.
Did my brother come along and ignite some passion in you?
Help you discover kinks you didn’t realize you had?
” Ryker turned the blade, using the sharp edge as he eased it back down the way he’d come.
He was careful not to break skin, but the threat was there.
If Rue moved even slightly, he’d be cut.
“That isn’t true,” Rue said. “That’s not what happened. He was—” A cry came out of him when the knife nicked him just over the rise of his right ass cheek. The pain was minimal, but the shock of it sent him reeling.
The actual danger he was in finally registered. A part of him had subconsciously believed that Ryker wouldn’t really hurt him. Had recalled how gentle he’d always treated Rue in the past.
He should have focused on the other side of the Black Hart.
The side Rue had witnessed breaking bones of people who’d crossed him.
Was this karma?