Chapter 7 #2
“First your brother and now you?” Rhys sneered, pulling the device away so he could wave a finger in Ryker’s face instead. “You will not disgrace this family, do you hear me? Whatever this was, it ends. Now. Good Light, Ryker. I am married to his mother. The two of you are—”
“Not blood related,” Ryk interrupted. “Never were, never will be.”
The second slap, he saw coming.
As expected, he let it happen.
This time, he tasted copper.
“If I find out you’ve put that filthy thing between your legs inside of your stepbrother again, I will have it surgically removed,” Rhys threatened.
“Going to give up any chance of grandkids, huh?”
“Ryder’s sperm can easily be harvested,” he stated. “Worse comes to worse, he never wakes, and we go that route for your future children. No one has to know.”
Ryker lost control of his anger and took a threatening step toward his father.
“Going to hit me, boy?” Rhys puffed up his chest and stared down his nose at him. “Go right ahead. Show me what you’re made of.”
His fist twitched at his side.
“You don’t get to talk about Ryder that way,” he growled.
“You’re right, perhaps I did misspeak,” Rhys surprised him by acknowledging, before adding, “Why should I sacrifice my own lineage when the obvious problem here is Rue.”
Ryker didn’t like the sound of that, and it must have shown, because his father snickered derisively.
“I ordered him back to planet to help protect the family image,” Rhys said.
“Since it’s become clear his presence is going to have the opposite effect, he shouldn’t be allowed to stay.
I’ll have the paperwork drawn up as soon as we’re back in the city.
He’ll re-enroll on Tulniri next week. You’ll be the one to tell him. ”
“What?” No. He couldn’t. “Dad—”
A third slap.
Ryker went quiet.
“Tell him,” Rhys commanded. “And then stay the hell away from him.”
He didn’t know how much time passed after his father left, but Ryker stood there for a long while.
Everyone kept telling him what to do.
Even Rue thought he could yank Ryker around. Confusing him with kisses and sad, sappy looks. He’d stayed out of Ryker’s way for months, and now suddenly he was responding to his touch? A touch that was meant to be punishment?
The bar by the door was fully stocked and unmanned, so Ryker helped himself.
No one disturbed him as he drank, chugging down a full bottle of hard liquor before moving onto another.
Typically, he could handle his alcohol, but Ryker was trying to drown the voices in his head now.
Trying to get wasted so he could block it all out.
Or lose himself completely and act.
Stop being such a timid little bitch and do something.
Whether that something was based on what his friends had suggested, or his father.
Didn’t matter so long as Ryker got into motion.
He wasn’t a passive guy, never had been. He was volatile and, dare he admit, abusive to those around him. A fun little trait he’d picked up from daddy dearest. How did that bullshit saying go?
Hurt people hurt people?
Ryker snorted and downed the rest of his second bottle, stumbling a bit when he moved away from the bar.
Forgetting all about the bonfire, Ryker went straight upstairs, rational thinking warring with the fire burning within.
A part of him wanted to set the world ablaze.
Literally. Just light the lodge on fire and let his father deal with the consequences.
Burn the whole place to the ground so Rhys could see a physical depiction of how Ryker was feeling on the inside.
Charred and jagged.
He didn’t even bother questioning it when he found himself standing in front of room thirty-six, hand already testing the handle to find it locked.
Ryker slipped a paperclip from his front pocket.
It’d been on the pamphlet Ishleen had handed to him earlier, and he’d taken it without much thought, needing something to do with his fingers while he’d watched Rue and Bowie flirt on the path ahead of him.
He untwisted it from the shape he’d bent it into during their outing, then slid it into the keyhole.
Picking locks was a breeze, something he’d been doing for as long as he could remember.
There were dozens of doors at the estate.
As a petty, childish middle finger, whenever Ryder or Ryker endured a hit, they secretly snuck into one of those locked rooms and rifled with their father’s things.
Nothing major, subtle enough not to really be noticed, but enough to satisfy the anger.
Maybe that’s what he was really doing here.
Maybe he’d come to Rue’s locked door specifically to break inside because Rhys had strictly told him not to.
The pop of the locking mechanism barely registered, body reacting before his mind could catch up. Ryker had the door pushed open and was stepping into the darkness, paperclip sliding back into his pocket for later use.
His eyes settled on the lump in the middle of the bed, the beam from the hallway lights allowing him to see before the door shut quietly at his back.
Ryker went still, listening to the steady sound of breathing.
Rue was asleep.
Already?
He must have skipped the bonfire too, probably exhausted after his time in the forest.
A prickle of guilt entered Ryker as he stepped up to the side of the bed, gazing down at Rue’s form.
He was lying on his side, facing away from the entrance, curled up beneath the dark green blankets. He’d showered before bed, hair still damp, skin still flushed, the moonlight from out the window helping to illuminate these tiny details now that Ryker was standing so close.
The bedroom was smaller than the one Ryker had been given, though not by a lot. The bed was a queen instead of a king, and there was less space between it and the closet. The blinds had been haphazardly pulled shut, a gap around three or four inches wide allowing light to spill in.
The fog seemed to have thickened a bit since earlier, but Ryker didn’t pay it much mind, still too focused on Rue.
And the recent conversations had about him.
Ryker’s hands were on his belt soon enough, undoing it before he snapped open his pants and slowly dragged down the zipper. He didn’t remove anything, but did reach for the blanket, slowly easing it off of Rue’s body, watching closely for any signs the other man might stir.
The bottle of sleeping pills was on the end table. Rue must have taken one, because he didn’t so much as twitch. Not even when Ryker rolled him onto his stomach and started to undress him, revealing swaths of golden skin bit by bit.
Ryker got onto the bed, situated himself between Rue’s thighs, and then stuck two of his fingers in his own mouth, rolling his tongue around them. He remembered the last time he’d seen Rue like this, bathed in moonlight. Back then, Rue had already been hard for him, ready and willing.
Ellery’s taunts echoed loudly in Ryker’s head, spurring him on. Helping him realize that yeah, maybe he had been too passive these past few months. Maybe he did need to just do something.
Teach Rue a lesson.
Teach himself a lesson.
Starting with why the hell he’d ever thought sneaking into the other man’s room and coming all over him was punishment enough. Who suffered the most in those instances, really? It wasn’t Rue.
It was Ryker.
Jerking off over his stepbrother like some freak.
Ellery was right.
Ryker had lost the plot these past three years. Had become cowardly, backing down and allowing his father to bind their two families, despite knowing what Rue meant to him.
What he’d always mean to him.
Yes, the guy had fucked his twin, but they’d work on that. Work past it.
They had to.
Had to, because Ryker couldn’t live like this. Couldn’t handle this separation a moment longer.
Rue thought he could run? He could leave?
No.
No, he didn’t get to do that.
People didn’t just get to abandon him. Not anymore. Not ever again.
Ryker would show him. Would burrow so deep inside of him, Rue couldn’t disentangle them if he tried. Would carve a path straight to the man’s heart, pour himself in, and live there.
It was time to get them back on track.
Once his fingers were nice and wet, he pulled them out, reaching between them, finding that spot between Rue’s firm ass cheeks. He hissed as he pressed two inside at once and the man jerked beneath him in response, a moan slipping past Rue’s parted pink lips.
Even asleep he was so responsive. He’d been like that the first time. The only time. So cute and pliant for Ryker. Opening up for him like a flower, like one of the roses they’d been surrounded by, blooming just for him.