Even with her ears covered, Becks heard things she never wished to. Or maybe it was her brain filling in the sounds. Either way, the frustrated shout that soon echoed through the cells startled Becks so much that she jumped and turned over on instinct.
Cameron was sitting back on her heels, wiping at her mouth like she’d just eaten something disgusting. “Ugh! Are you fucking kidding me right now, Ranger? You’re fucking disgusting! How weak are you that you can’t even get it up right now?”
Becks tried to ignore the intimacy part of that statement concerning her brother, and tried to think about it from a medical stance. After the trauma Liam had endured the past four days, in addition to whatever drug they were forcing him on, Becks was not surprised that he had trouble achieving an erection. Even if he knew what it was that was happening to him, it was no less sexual assault.
New fears and horror filled her at the knowledge. Torture and now rape? What more were they going to put her brother through?
“I’ll do it.”
Her words were so low that neither Cameron nor Ritchie seemed to register them at first. Then Ritchie spun, staring down at her through the bars separating hers and Liam’s cells. “What did you say?”
Tears dropped off her chin as she sat upright. The place on her stomach where the prongs of Ritchie’s stun gun had burned her throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the emotional turmoil she was suffering through. Or the guilt that she hadn’t even had the strength to try to reach her brother, to somehow help him, while his ex-girlfriend raped him… No, there was no getting over that guilt.
But maybe she could still do something to save him.
“I’ll do it,” she declared louder. “But only if you let him go.”
Liam made a noise—the first he’d made in a long time—that sounded like a protest of sorts. How aware was he? Did he remember where they were and what was happening to him?
“He’s our leverage to make you sign,” Cameron snapped, getting to her feet. She wiped off the dust from her knees.
Becks shook her head. “I won’t sign anything if you continue to torture and rape him.”
Cameron scoffed. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, please. Don’t be so dramatic. That wasn’t anything close to rape. And he would have enjoyed it if he could have gotten it up,” she added defensively, as if she wanted it known that it wasn’therperformance that was the problem.
Becks had to swallow back the bile. “Let him go. Let him get medical help, and I’ll sign anything you want.”
This wasn’t false bravado either. Becks was very aware that as soon as her signature was on whatever it was they wanted her to sign, her life was likely forfeit. She didn’t want to die, but she also couldn’t just sit here, day after day, and watch her brother’s torment. She knew Liam would hate her for her decision, but shedidn’t care. Because, right now, Liam wasn’t in a position to save her, butshewas in a position to save him.
And for once in her life, she was going to be the protector.
Ritchie leaned against the bars, far too casual considering where they were. “Doesn’t work like that, princess. See, big brother here, was supposed to die the other day. As far as anyone in the outside world knows, he did. So I can’t just have him show up at the hospital, now can I?”
Becks swallowed hard. So Liam had been right, and thiswouldend in their deaths. Until Ritchie had confirmed it, she’d suspected, but hearing the confirmation was…chilling. But it still didn’t change her mind. Becks hardened her resolve. “I don’t care. You let him go or I sign nothing.”
Cameron pouted. “I’m tired of this, Ritchie.” She walked up behind him, running her tongue up her neck like she hadn’t just been sucking off another man. “I want out of here. This place smells, andhe,” she said pointedly at Liam, “reeks, and I want the mansion you promised me with a pool boy I can fuck whenever I want.”
Becks tried really hard not to picture that reality.
Ritchie didn’t take his eyes off Becks as he answered Cameron. “We’ll only get half,” he griped at her. “That’s less than a million each!”
Confusion filled Becks. Did he just say a million dollars? She certainly did not have that sort of money! Her grandma had, but she’d always said she was going to donate her money to charity when she passed. Since Becks hadn’t heard anything else after her grandma had passed, she’d never given it another thought. Sure, it would have been nice for her mom to have gotten something, but it wasn’t like her mom was hurting for money either. She lived comfortably, and had never been one to want for more.
“But it’s more than zero, and let’s face it! Our plan isn’t working!” Cameron complained.
“And whose fault is that?” Ritchie rounded on her, scrunching his nose as he sniffled. “Who’s idea was it tobombthe bar instead of just poisoning them likeIhad wanted? Who’s idea was it to have some amateur moonshine peddlers build said bomb for us? And whose idea was it to usemyH to fuck up her boyfriend and kidnap him too?”
Did Ritchie just say ‘H’? As inheroin? Oh God! Had that been what they’d been dosing Liam with? Becks had suspected, but had hoped she was wrong.
Cameron put her hands on her hips, not backing down from her stepbrother’s accusations. “Andwhodecided to get fucking drunk and highbeforehis wedding that would have secured him as her beneficiary!” She waved a hand blindly in Becks’ direction.
Wait, what? While Becks didn’t know what the paperwork they wanted her to sign was, she’d assumed it had something to do with the wedding. But she’d never been able to figure out what. Everything seemed too extreme for what they were putting her and Liam through. Fables and tales talked about scorned women, and she’d assumed this had to do with him being a scorned man, but now that seemed like it was inaccurate.
Becks knew in her heart of hearts that she’d never loved Ritchie. She’d been infatuated with him, sure. The idea of marriage and kids and being the respected wife of a big city lawyer… But that wasn’t love. That wasn’t true love.
No, true love was sacrifice, and giving your all to ensure your partner’s happiness. Marriage wasn’t fifty-fifty; it was two parties giving a hundred and ten percent. It was safety and warmth and a shoulder to lean on and a partner to hold and knowing that the bad times wouldn’t be so bad because you had them.
It was everything she had with Ghost. He’d shown her the true meaning of love without even trying, and he made it look so simple. He never asked anything of her. He might be possessive and demanding, but he wasn’t controlling or spiteful or mean. He loved every inch of her body and cared what she thought, felt, and said.
