Silence
Ryker guides me into the living room and sits me on the sofa. I’m swaying, my head a tilt-a-whirl, the pain back. There are so many thoughts that none of them register, just words, and places, and promises broken.
“Here.” Ryker presses two pills into my hand and a glass of water in the other. “For your head.”
“No,” I mumble. “I’m not taking anything you give me.”
“Rose, you’ve been here two weeks. If I was going to hurt you, I would have done it already.” He brushes my hair back. “Please, take it. Then I’ll get you some food and we can talk.”
“Zayden,” I breathe, shoving Ryker awake from me. “Where is he? Where are you keeping him?”
“He’s safe, Silence.”
“Liar.” I try to stand, but the floor tips. Ryker catches me again, and I try to wrestle myself free.
“Silence, you have a concussion. You cannot just—”
“Get off me!” I shove him away and fall back into a table, the lamp tumbling over as I hit the ground. Bullet whines and trots over to me, snuffling my face.
“They’re all safe, Silence. X, Y, Z—they’re all here.” He takes my hand. “Let me help you up.”
“I want to see them.” I snatch my hand back. “I need … I need …”
I lay my head down, the carpet soft on my cheek, and I close my eyes. My stomach roils, my mouth waters, and I breathe deeply to resist vomiting. Pressing my nails into the carpet, I cling to it as if it can stop me from floating away, when maybe that’s exactly what I need.
No … I need …
Sleep. Just for a moment. Rest.
I’ll rest, and then I’ll find the brothers. Or maybe they’ll find me.
I’ll just close my eyes.
One long blink later, and judging by the ache in my arm, I’ve been asleep on the floor for a while. My head hurts so much I’m close to tears, and I bury my face in Bullet’s fur.
“Rose, please,” Ryker pleads. “Let me help you.”
“I want to see them.”
“You need to eat first.”
A spark of pain climbs across my forehead. “Fuck. You. I want to see them now.”
Ryker sighs. “Don’t you think if something were wrong, Bullet would be acting out? What would be the point in me bringing you here? Why would I care for you?”
Now, I open my eyes. The pain is worth it to remind myself of the man with me—the one who stabbed Xavier. Who took Zayden and hurt him.
“Because you’re hoping to rekindle what we had when we were teenagers.”
The words strike true, and he sits back, running his hand down his face.
“I won’t lie and say I’m not hoping for it, but I know that hurting the men you love isn’t the way to go about it.
” I close my eyes again, hating that he’s making sense.
Hurting Yale, Xavier, and Zayden would be a surefire way to make me want to kill him.
There’d be no coming back from that, even though he doesn’t have a chance, anyway.
“So, will you please eat? You’ve been living off soup for days. ”
Tears sting my eyes as I reluctantly nod.
He helps me back onto the couch and disappears for a while.
He returns with a plate of food—chicken, rice, and vegetables—and places it on my lap on a tray, along with water and pills.
I ignore the pills and pull apart the chicken, sniffing and examining it.
Eventually, Ryker has a mouthful of all of it to prove it isn’t drugged, and I eat.
It does make me feel better. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I smelled it, and I wolf it down, and two glasses of water. Bullet sits and watches, head tilted, like he’s making sure I eat, too.
When I finish, Ryker collects the tray and asks if I want any more. I do, but I shake my head, eagerly waiting for him to take me to the brothers.
“Now?” I ask, and he nods.
He leads me upstairs, and I pause when I realize we’re heading back to the room I woke up in. “Where are we going?”
“You should shower and put clean clothes on.”
Fury overtakes the pain in my head. “No. You’re delaying me. You’re doing this on purpose!”
“Silence, you haven’t showered properly in two weeks. You need to get clean, get into fresh clothes. Zayden is in the other wing, and he isn’t going anywhere.”
We stop at my door. I clench my toes into the carpet, glancing down the hall as if I could somehow see through brick and glass to finally lay eyes on the men I love after what feels like an eternity.
“Promise me you’ll take me to them,” I say, and I hate how weak I sound. “Swear on what we had.”
Ryker’s shoulders soften. “I swear, Rose. On everything.”
Something uncertain curls in my gut. I want to run, but I don’t know where, and judging by the size of this place, I’d get lost. But if I step into that room, he could lock it behind me.
“I’ll wait in the bedroom,” he says, as if reading my mind. “Is that better?”
I nod stiffly. “Come on, Bullet.” The dog follows as I go back into the bedroom. Ryker takes some clothes out of a bureau for me, and I go into the bathroom with Bullet, locking the door.
My shower is fast and in no way a relief. Despite the lock, I keep my eyes on the door at all times, and Bullet lays in front of it. I scrub my hair, clean myself, and then I’m out, dry, and dressed. But the clothes aren’t mine. They fit, but the jeans and sweater aren’t something I’d usually wear.
Ryker is waiting by the door, hands in his pockets when I exit the bathroom. I’m thrown back to the night at the hotel. How charming he was. How he’d kissed me.
“You lied to me.”
He tenses. “And I hate that.”
“No, you don’t. Because you’d have already apologized for making a fool out of me. What if I’d slept with you thinking you were someone else? Do you know how violating that is?”
He flinches. “I wouldn’t have allowed it to go that far.”
“Don’t lie!”
“I was in love with you!” he bites, cheeks flushed, and I back up slightly. “Yes, it was fucked up of me to kiss you, but I allowed myself a moment of weakness for a woman I looked for for a fucking decade.”
I close my fingers into fists. “That’s not an excuse.”
“No, it’s not.”
“And you still haven’t fucking apologized.”
“Would you believe me if I did?” He locks eyes with me, and I say nothing. “I’ll take you to see them.”
With Bullet on my heels, I follow Ryker through the house.
I’m glad I at least have socks on, because some of the hallways aren’t carpeted.
The wooden floor is chilly, even through the material, and I rub my hands together.
The home is … strange. Some doors have no handles, others have bolts on the outside.
I pass several indoor windows, the glass painted black, and when we pass what looks like an indoor greenhouse, I can’t help but stop.
“Unusual, right?” Ryker asks, but I say nothing. “The property was previously used to hold particular prisoners.”
Curiosity gets the better of me. “Particular?”
“Ones with information. Ones that acted out.” He pauses at the greenhouse door. Inside is a jungle of plants, the glass sweating, the rich smell of soil meeting my nose. “Certain medicines were grown here. Ones illegal if brought in from other countries.”
I frown. “Like what?”
“I can show you.” He opens the door and steps inside the humidity, and I stay in place, watching him disappear beyond the rich greens and steamed glass.
Bullet looks up at me, and I mumble at him to stay, worried what the heat might do to him.
The floor of the greenhouse is remarkably clean, so this place must still be used regularly.
“Some plants are believed to be impossible to grow out of their habitat,” Ryker says, rubbing a leaf between his forefinger and thumb.
He moves to another plant, one behind a plastic covering.
He gestures at me to approach, and I do, slowly.
“The Dendrocnide moroides. Otherwise known as the suicide plant. You touch it and it causes intense, burning pain that can last weeks.”
It doesn’t look out the ordinary. A heart-shaped leaf, that’s all, one you could easily mistake as harmless.
“So, what? They’d rub this on prisoners for information?”
“Sometimes. In later years, they were able to harvest its sting in a liquid and inject it directly into them or put it in their food.” A few plants down is a small refrigerator stocked with vials of clear liquid. “They’d feel like they were burning from the inside out.”
I look up at him. “That’s horrific.”
“Yes. But it worked.” He admires the vials for a moment. “A tasteless, odorless liquid into a soup, and then …” He snaps his fingers. “Agony.”
This is beyond creepy. Greenhouses are supposed to breathe life into things, to produce oxygen and warmth and growth. Not torture devices.
“I want to go.”
He shrugs. “If you insist.”
We continue through the house until we reach a kitchen. What I’ve noticed is that … there’s no one else here. Or if there is, I haven’t seen them. No cook, no staff, no men with guns. It’s totally empty.
“Bullet has to stay up here.”
I blink, looking down at the dog. “Why?”
“Because we’re going into the basement. The stairs are slippery. He might struggle.”
Bullet shifts closer to me. “You can carry him down.”
“He doesn’t like me.”
“He’s not the only one.”
Ryker frowns but doesn’t respond. I wish I could carry Bullet—he’s my only protection, but he’s heavy. If I somehow managed to lift him and I slipped, we might end up injured. The last thing I need is another obstacle.
“Fine. Stay here, boy, okay? I’ll be right back.”
Bullet watches as we approach a wooden door. It’s old, but solid, and Ryker shoves the lock aside and pulls it open.
I’m immediately greeted with the smell of damp, and I wrinkle my nose. Ryker goes first, and when I reach the doorway, I peek down. It’s dark. Almost pitch black. The stone stairs are damp, shining with what I hope is rainwater.
I could lock him in. Throw the door closed. Get the hell out of here.
But what if Zayden, Xavier, and Yale are in that basement? What if he has them tied up, and if I lock them in, he kills them?
“Rose,” Ryker says gently. “Do you want me to lift you so your feet don’t get cold?”
“No,” I snap, stepping forward. A chill sweeps across my sole, but I ignore it as I descend the stairs, keeping distance between Ryker and me. I try to crouch and see what’s at the bottom, but it’s a hallway with a bend.
When I reach the bottom step, Ryker faces me. “Do you think you could love me again?”
“No.”
Genuine pain flashes across his eyes. “But … you loved me before them.”
“And they’ve never hurt me.”
He huffs a cold laugh, then gestures ahead of him. “Ladies first.”
“No way. You go.”
“Walk, Silence. I’m losing my fucking patience with you. You go, and you see them, or I lock you in here. Make a choice.”
His mood has shifted so quickly that I almost wish I’d lied to him. If I keep him happy, make him believe I could love him, maybe he’ll let us go. If I destroy his hope completely …
I walk ahead, keeping a safe distance as I follow the hallway. I’m cold now, shivering, and I can finally see light. It’s dim, but it’s there, and my breathing picks up as I close in.
And hear them talking.
“Oh my God.” I rush forward, breaking into a run, and let out a sob when I spot Zayden first. The room at the end of the hall is large, the three walls closed off by bars. Each brother has their own cell. It’s a mini prison, and it’s colder and wetter here than the hallway.
“Q.” Xavier stands. He’s still in the clothes he wore when he left—they all are. Their hair is messy, skin dirty, but I couldn’t care less. I don’t know who to go to first, but hearing Xavier’s voice pulls me to him. I grip the bars, tears flowing free. “Are you okay?”
“Are you?” He reaches through the bars and I kiss him, before going to Yale.
He’s battered and bruised, his lip split, a healing bruise on his right eye. I kiss him through the bars, too. “I was hoping you weren’t here,” he whispers.
And then there’s Zayden.
He’s sitting on the floor, back resting against the wall, head back. He’s so pale, so gaunt, that I rush to him, kneeling. I reach through the bars, but he doesn’t move, just blinks.
“Hey, baby,” he whispers, smiling weakly. At first, I think he’s malnourished, thirsty, but then I spot the blood on his shirt. And he isn’t cold. He’s sweating.
I stand and face Ryker. “He’s fucking dying, Ryker. Let me treat him.”
He folds his arms. “No.”
Terror takes hold of me, because I have no idea how long Zayden has been like this. If the infection has spread to his blood—
I stride toward Ryker and slap him. “Let me into that fucking cell, or I’ll kill you, I swear I will.” He takes the hit, his face turned away from me, and when he locks his eyes on me, the bitterness in him almost puts my fire out.
“Why would I do anything for a woman who won’t even try to forgive me?”
God, I should have lied. I should have made him believe I could love him again, and now I might have killed Zayden.
“Please,” I whisper. “Please, just let me get him some antibiotics. You said it yourself—if he dies, I’ll never forgive you.”
“You won’t anyway,” he says. “So tell me why I should bother.”
I breathe fast, trying to come up with the right words to backtrack, to fix this.
“Maybe I could,” I say. “Maybe—”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Please!” I scream as he turns away. “Please, Ryker. I’m begging you.” He keeps walking. “Ryker!”
He stops.
My chest is shaking with sobs as he faces me again. “Please don’t let him die. I’ll do anything.”
“Silence, no,” Zayden says, but I ignore him.
“I’ll forgive you. I’ll find a way.” I get to my knees, placing my palms together. “I’ll do it. I promise.”
Ryker’s gaze sweeps across my kneeling frame, and he takes slow, predatory steps toward me. He touches my chin, tilting it up. “Could you love me?”
“Could she fuck!” Xavier bellows. “You slimy fucking prick. If the only way you can get her to even pay attention to you is like this, then you don’t love her! You’re fucking blackmailing her!”
“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes. I loved you before. I could love you again.”
“Before?” Yale asks.
I stand, focusing on Ryker. “Get me some antibiotics. Some gloves.”
Ryker looks behind me, his gaze darting between each brother. “We’ll discuss it over dinner.”
“He could die before then!”
He presses a kiss to my nose, and somehow, I don’t recoil. “Then you’d better eat fast.”