Filed to story: The LORDS Series Free PDF by Shantel Tessier
We exit his room, and I look up across the hall to see Matt walking out of a room. His eyes meet mine, and he gives me a smile. It makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise. His blue eyes go to Ryat, and I notice the black eye that he has. What the hell happened to him? Did Ryat do that? Are they fighting? Is that why Ryat is on edge? Did Matt say something to him about me? It’s not like Matt knows any secrets about me. I never got the chance to do anything crazy.
“See you soon,” Matt speaks, nodding his head to Ryat with that smile still on his face.
Ryat grabs my hand and yanks me down the hall. I look back at him over my shoulder just as the bleach blonde exits Matt’s room, pulling him back into it and shutting the door behind them.
_______________
WE ENTER MY apartment, and I’m on edge. I don’t like not knowing what’s going on. Especially when it could involve me.
“What did Matt mean?” I ask Ryat as we enter my bedroom. “Why will he see you soon?”
“Not now.” He sighs heavily, scratching the back of his neck.
“Ryat …”
“Blake!” he snaps my name, pinning me with a glare. Releasing a sigh, he slowly walks over to me.
I don’t move. Coming up to me, he slides his hand in my hair and licks his lips. “Can we just go to bed? It’s been a long weekend and an even longer day. We can discuss it tomorrow.”
My eyes search his, and I hate that I can’t tell if he’s lying or not. I knew Matt well enough to tell if he was trying to avoid a conversation or just me in general. Ryat is harder to read.
Nodding, I say, “Sure.”
Leaning in, he gives my forehead a soft kiss. “I’ll get you a water.” He pulls away and goes into the kitchen while I remove his T-shirt and sweatpants before crawling into my cold sheets.
I am tired. I thought I was going to pass out at his cabin, but then the events that followed woke me up really quick.
“Here you go,” Ryat says, entering the room with a glass of water for me.
“Thanks.” I take it from him and drink more than half of it, not realizing how thirsty I was.
He takes it and sets it on my nightstand before crawling in bed next to me. “Sweet dreams, Blake.” He kisses my forehead again, pulling my back into his front.
My last thought is that we won’t be having that conversation in the morning.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
RYAT
WITHIN MINUTES, I hear her softly snoring. The drug working fast. She hasn’t eaten in hours. I slipped a sleeping pill into her water while in the kitchen. I needed her out in order to leave without her asking questions. I was tired of not being able to answer them. Not only because of the oath I took, but also because I have no fucking clue what I’m going to be doing. I didn’t trust to leave her at the house of Lords, so I had to get her back here and asleep as soon as possible.
Pulling out from underneath her, she doesn’t even move. She’ll be pissed at me when she wakes in the morning, but I’ll deal with that when I’m done with my assignment.
Getting out of bed, I exit her room just as Gunner and Sarah walk through the front door. “Give us a second,” he tells her, and she heads to her room at the other end of the apartment.
“She’s out. Will be all night,” I tell him.
He nods once.
“I’ll let you know what’s going on as soon as I can.” He understood that I wanted him and Sarah to stay here with her while I’m gone. I may not be able to control what she does or where she goes while I’m working. I still don’t want her up at the house of Lords even if Matt is away, so I needed to give her a reason to stay away. Sarah being here is as good as I could come up with in such a short time.
“Of course. Just be careful.” His eyes go to her closed bedroom door. “And don’t worry about her. I’ll make sure nothing happens to her while you’re gone.”
My cell vibrates in my pocket, and it’s a text from a blocked number.
Opening it up, I see it’s the address of the cathedral. Without saying another word, I exit and head out.
_______________
THIRTY MINUTES LATER, I’m walking inside the double doors of the cathedral tucked back in the woods. I look around to see I’m alone. But that victory is short-lived when the doors creak open behind me, and Matt steps inside.
“It’ll be like old times.” He gives me a fucking grin when I turn to face him.
“Try not to kill an innocent this time.” I make a jab at him. But instead of taking offense, he just laughs.
The doors open, and we both turn to face the three men who enter. All three wear black cloaks and white masks over their faces to hide their true identity.
My pulse quickens, and my heart begins to race at the adrenaline pumping through my veins. I forgot how much I’ve missed this. The action. This is the part of the Lords that I love. I’m not going to pretend not to like the violence. I love it.
“Gentlemen,” the one on the far right speaks.
Matt steps toward them.
All three raise guns at us. “Hands up,” one orders.
I raise mine as does Matt.
“Turn around. Lie on your stomachs with your hands behind your backs,” the one in the middle demands.
Doing as I’m told, I smile to myself. Let the game begin.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
RYAT
I’M YANKED TO a stop and shoved into a chair where each wrist is pulled down to my sides and cuffed to a back leg. My ankles are then also cuffed to the front legs. The hood that’s been covering my face is ripped off, and I suck in a breath of fresh air as I blink and look around.
We’re in a warehouse of some kind. A quick glance tells me it’s underground. No windows, no doors. Just an elevator at the other end of the large space. Concrete floors and walls.
I try to rock the chair from side to side to see how much it’ll take for me to break it, but it’s no use. The bitch is cemented down to the damn floor. A steel table sits in front of me that I bet is also cemented down.
“A little overkill,” I say, testing the cuffs themselves, but they’re the real deal, cinched down tight. I know that Blake secretly likes these damn things, and I don’t know why.
“Are these necessary?” Matt growls, secured to the chair next to me. The chains to his restraints clank as he tries to break free as well.
After we were cuffed and the hood was placed over our heads, we were dragged out of the cathedral and thrown into a vehicle of some kind.
The officer who stands to my right with his hands on his belt says nothing. Another quick look around tells me that the three guys who picked us up are nowhere to be seen. They were delivery boys and nothing else.
The elevator dings, getting our attention seconds before it slides open. Gregory Mallory himself steps off it. I’ve never met him before. A ruthless, powerful motherfucker who has a target on his back. The sorry bastard who tried his shot, missed him. I’m guessing that’s why we’re here. He’s followed by two other men. They look like they work for the FBI-three-piece black suits, sunglasses, and earpieces. But none of them resemble the men I saw on the TV.
He pulls the only other seat out from across the table from us and sits down. I notice his moves. Pulling a picture out of the pocket of his Tom Ford Windsor suit jacket, he slams it down and slides it to the center of the table in front of us. “Erik Bates. Remember the name, brand the fucking face into your goddamn memory,” he orders.
I look down at it. The guy has jet-black hair, pale skin, and a face tattoo of a fucking Chinese star on his cheek. Hard to forget. “Got it,” I say.
“Don’t fucking play, boy!” He shoots up from his chair, knocking it over as his hand slaps me across the face so hard that if the chair I’m chained to wasn’t cemented down, I’d be on my ass.