His Tormented Heart

by Katee Robert

  Instantly, all amusement fled Kenzie’s face. She didn’t approach him, didn’t reach out for him. She simply nodded. “Yeah, he is. I’m sorry.”

  “I should be apologizing to you. He’s the one who put you in that place.”

  She shrugged. “He wasn’t the only one responsible. Even if he was, you had nothing to do with it. So put down the cross, Ryu. It’s not yours to bear.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  She used his distraction against him and swept a kick that knocked him on his ass. Kenzie propped her hands on her hips and glared. “Don’t do that.”

  “Don’t do what?” He sat up. “Don’t speak the truth?”

  “Don’t start separating us. That guy might have been your sperm donor, but we are your family.” She offered her hand. “Amarante is right. You’re downright maudlin right now. It’s not a good look, Ryu.”

  “I am not maudlin.” Kenzie always brushed off the ugly parts of life—or at least appeared to. She had faced down one of the worst perpetrators of her nightmares just a few weeks ago and, for all intents and purposes, she’d bounced back almost immediately. He envied her that. Ryu didn’t bounce. It wasn’t in his nature. “I don’t know how to make this right.”

  “We make it right the same way we were always going to.” She wiggled her hand until he took it and allowed her to pull him to his feet. Kenzie gave him a sunny smile. “We kill them all.”

  Chapter 4

  In the eight years since Delilah took Esther and stole away in her old beat-up truck, she had only called out of work a handful of times. When there was no guarantee of the next meal, when her sister depended on her, she couldn’t afford to do stupid shit like get drunk and be too hungover to work. Ditto with sickness and injury.

  She didn’t drink during her work week. She always got her flu shot and took extra precautions to avoid sick people. She took particularly good care of her body in an effort to keep from getting injured doing something stupid.

  Look at her now.

  She glared at the brace around her wrist. Even though it was only bruised, It definitely looked worse than it was, which should have been a relief, except she still had to wait for the bruises to fade before she could go back to work. A week should be enough. It had to be enough time for everything to get back to normal.

  She didn’t have to worry about money quite as intensely as she had at eighteen, but Esther was probably going to be a surgeon someday, and at roughly fifty-five grand a year, the rest of her college amounted to a whole lot of money for Delilah to come up with. Two years into Esther’s degree and she had the rest of the money for her undergraduate degree saved up. Spending a few years being hungry and desperate and not sure when their next meal would show up was enough to give her a hoarder mentality when it came to finances. All it took was one bad turn and she’d be back there again.

  One bad turn and Esther would be back there again.

  Dark thoughts led her to the phone. Her phone, not the one tucked back in its safe place under her mattress. She did a quick calculation of the time difference and called Esther.

  Surely she was still safe. They gave Delilah a week. No reason to think they’d do something before then. But considering she didn’t know who they were, she wasn’t about to put anything up to chance. She held her breath as the phone rang and rang. Finally, it clicked over and a sleepy, “Do you even know what time it is?” filled the line.

  Delilah exhaled in relief. “Sorry, sis. I thought for sure you’d be up. Don’t you have a big test in a couple days?”

  “Yes.” Rustling as Esther must have rolled over. “But I’m not an idiot. I’ve spent a ton of time studying. I know the material backward and forward.”

  Her throat burned and she had to blink rapidly. “That’s my girl.” Her baby sister was destined for greatness. She was too smart and too ambitious for anything resembling a normal life, an intelligence and personality that had been the bane of Delilah’s existence when she was twelve. Now, at twenty? The sky was the limit.

  She would do absolutely anything to ensure that nothing limited Esther’s climb to her dreams.

  Silence for a beat, and when her sister spoke again, she sounded less sleepy. “Is everything okay? You’re usually working this time, aren’t you?”

  “Uh, yeah.” Crap. Delilah should have realized she would question her calling like this. They always talked Sunday afternoons, Esther’s time. Calls off that schedule usually meant voicemail because Esther was in class or Delilah was on the stage. “There was a small accident—nothing serious—but I sprained my wrist. I’m out for a week.”

  “Are you okay?”

  Not even close, but it had nothing to do with the throbbing of her wrist and everything to do with her worry about the next seven days. “You know me, sis. I’m always okay.”

  Esther sighed. “I’m not a kid anymore, Delilah. You don’t have to keep putting on a brave face for me. If I need to get a job—”

  She burst out laughing. “Honey, I have your entire undergraduate covered and another chunk of change set aside for expenses. Worry about school. I have the money covered.”

  This time, her silence lasted longer. “Is it Dad?”

  “No.” Eight years, and they still looked over their shoulders for the man who’d spent so many years making their lives a living hell. Such was the power of their father, that he could reach across time and space and still keep them up at night. Delilah had to take a breath and force the tension from her voice. “I’m still keeping track of him. He’s in Texas.” He’d started a new church down there and was preaching along his favorite topic—the rapture. He’d be occupied with that for ages yet, but that wouldn’t stop me from checking up on him weekly.

  “It’s a pretty quick flight from Texas up here.”

  “He doesn’t know where we are. As far as he’s concerned, we’re dead.” It’s what he told all his parishioners about a year after they escaped. He’d even held a funeral for them with empty coffins—and live-streamed it on social media. Watching those coffins go into the ground was one of the more surreal experiences of Delilah’s life. “You’re safe, Esther.” A lie, that. If her sister was safe, Delilah wouldn’t be endlessly pacing her room, wondering how the hell she was going to pull off the task set in front of her.

  Betray the Horsemen.

  Betray Pestilence.

  No, not Pestilence.

  Ryu.

  She pressed a hand to her chest, hating the strange feeling hearing his actual name brought. He shared it in a trust she didn’t deserve—one she’d already set out to betray. Yes, he hurt her. Yes, he scared the shit out of her. But Delilah would suffer through a lot worse to keep this job. Without the last two years on the Island of Ys, she wouldn’t be able to pay for her sister’s college. Not so quickly, at least. Another couple months and she’d have be able to start in on the fund for Esther’s graduate degree.

  “Delilah?” From the way her sister said her name, it wasn’t the first time.

  “It’s fine. We’re fine.” She forced an easy smile into her voice. “Tell me what’s new with you.”

  “We just talked a few days ago.”

  “You haven’t done anything interesting in those few days? What about that girl you’re interested in? Did you finally get the nerve to ask her out?”

  Esther huffed out a laugh. “Not all of us are as ballsy as you are, big sister. I don’t know if she’s flirting with me or just being nice.”

  “Only one way to find out.”

  “Easy for you to say. You’re like a ten and have ass for days.”

  A conversation they’d had more times than Delilah could count. “It’s all about confidence, Esther. Just fake it until you make it.”

  Her sister groaned. “Fine, I’ll ask her out for coffee.”

  “Worst she can say is no.”

  “Are you really trying to comfort me with worst case scenarios right now? This is not how pep talks are supposed to work.”

&
nbsp; Delilah laughed. “Good luck, though you don’t need it. Not for the girl and not for the test.”

  “I’m not worried about the test.”

  Esther sounded so grumpy that some of her worry melted away. She’d find a way through this. She’d carried them through worse situations over the years, though Delilah was hard pressed to think of one that came close. It didn’t matter. Her priorities came down to Esther and only Esther. “I love you, kid.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “I’ll call Sunday at the usual time.” Hopefully, she’d have everything handled by then. Five days. Not very long in the grand scheme of things, but Delilah was uniquely motivated.

  “Cool.” Esther yawned. “Talk to you then.”

  She hung up and dropped her phone onto her bed. Pestilence—Ryu—said he’d make it up to her, but she couldn’t afford to sit around and wait for him to follow through on his word. If he even intended to do it. The Horsemen were usually good for their promises, but Delilah only had experience with the business aspect of it. This might have started out that way, but it had veered personal pretty damn quickly.

  She really shouldn’t have touched him.

  She sat on the bed. “Okay, honesty time.” She could pretend she was just trying to follow through on the fantasy the private rooms provided. They weren’t supposed to touch the customers, but a little lap dance only smudged the line a little. Delilah usually didn’t cross that line, but every once and awhile the money was good enough to tempt her.

  Ryu hadn’t offered her money.

  He hadn’t even offered her words.

  He just stared at her with those bottomless dark eyes that held so much need and desire, Delilah’s instincts had overridden her good sense. He was magnet to her lodestone. Or lodestone to her magnet. However that metaphor went. Before he started coming to the club regularly, she hadn’t believed in the kind of chemistry that could reach across a crowded room and slap her in the face. But she always, always, knew when he was in the audience when she danced. And when they were alone?

  She shivered.

  Yeah, she hadn’t touched him to provide his fantasy. She’d done it because she lost control and forgot herself. The very thing she couldn’t afford to do on the island in general—and in particular during the next five days. Touching Ryu was completely off limits. Thinking of him as anything other than a mark was even more off limits.

  She sighed. If only she could turn off her emotions as easily as she turned on the charm and seduction routine. The Horsemen were … larger than life. And they squashed their enemies without second thought. She’d heard rumors of what they did to people who crossed them, who broke the rules. When Ryu went after them, there usually was a person left behind to regret their mistakes. But when Death or War were the ones delivering punishment? People disappeared, and not just from the internet. Was it really outside the realm of possibility that they’d done something to deserve this?

  Except I’ve never heard of the Horsemen threatening innocents to get the job done.

  Delilah put it from her mind. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter. They were her employers, yes, but Esther was her sister. Family trumped everything else.

  With that in mind, she dressed carefully. Cut-off shorts with more holes than fabric and a cropped lacy tank top that left her stomach bare. She let her hair hanging in loose waves around her shoulders and only applied a little tinted gloss to her lips. Leather sandals on her feet and the image was complete. Sexy as hell, but in a casual sort of way that looked like she wasn’t trying too hard.

  She took a deep breath and stared at herself in the mirror. “You can do this. You’ve spent your whole damn life selling the lie on stage. The world’s just another kind of stage.” Her little pep talk didn’t make her feel better, but she wasn’t sure anything could make her feel better at this point.

  Delilah didn’t let herself hesitate further. She marched out the door and into the hallway. It was only as she headed for the main casino floor that she realized she didn’t have anything resembling a plan. Oh well. She’d already jumped. Figuring things out on the way down was what she did.

  She didn’t have a choice.

  A few minutes of wandering had her about ready to go out of her skin. Before shit hit the fan, Delilah worked six days a week. She liked working. But it meant she didn’t usually choose to partake in any of the entertainments the Island of Ys had to offer.

  With that in mind, she turned to the entrance and headed out of the aggressively air-conditioned building. The heat slapped her in the face and Delilah grinned despite herself. She didn’t usually miss Texas, but living for years in New York was enough to have her longing for the milder winters. Coming to the island to work would have been a blessing if she spent more time outside.

  She headed down the pretty paved walkway that led to the beach. The Island of Ys was actually three islands, though only one of them held all the entertainment. It was shaped a little like a crab with its pinchers nearly touching. On the north side was Pleasure. The south housed Pain.

  Delilah stopped to untie her sandals and slip them off her feet. She usually avoided Pain and the darker pleasures it offered: fucking, both vanilla and specialized kink; high stakes card games where more money was exchanged than she’d see in her lifetime; the monthly fights in the ring.

  A woman could get into a lot of trouble in that place if she wasn’t careful. Delilah had been here long enough to see it happen. Girls who got their heads messed up by the rich men and women who patronized the island, who believed lies spun in order to get access to what the patrons wanted—their bodies. Eventually the patrons always left, and they never took their island flings with them.

  She had no time for that, no interest in getting entangled. Even if she was willing to have a fling, no one had pulled at her interest enough to outweigh all the other baggage Delilah carried around. Impossible to let herself get swept away when she was all too aware of the cost.

  Her current and future security.

  Esther’s future.

  The very things on the line right now.

  She released a pent-up breath and started walking. The beach spread parallel to the boardwalk that stretched between Pleasure and Pain, populated with a variety of little shops and tiny bars for the people who wanted a more “authentic” island experience. She snorted. As if there was anything authentic about the Island of Ys. It was all carefully curated to meet and exceed expectations.

  She stopped halfway down the beach and sank onto one of the lounge chairs. If she concentrated, she could almost pretend she was well and truly alone, that nothing the world could bring to bear was enough to send her to her knees. That the danger had long since passed.

  Delilah felt him even before she turned to see Ryu striding down the sand toward her. The invisible connection between them thrummed and her body went tight. It was easier to ignore her reaction on stage. She had half a dozen things to keep track of—her dance and pole routine, her expression, her slow stripping seduction—and an inconvenient attraction only heightened the performance.

  You’re in the middle of a performance right now.

  Right. Something she couldn’t afford to forget.

  She lifted her hand to shield her eyes so she could watch Ryu cross the last bit of distance. He wore a tailored suit, the heat pressing against her skin apparently unable to touch him. The barest sheen of sweat on his forehead gave lie to the illusion, and she liked him better for being human enough to sweat. He scowled fiercely enough, it was a wonder the very elements didn’t shrink back from him.

  She should be shrinking back from him. This man was dangerous. Dangerous in general, and dangerous to her specifically. If he found out the truth of why she’d agreed to spend more time in proximity with him … The very best-case scenario involved her losing her bank account and all the data that proved she existed. Even if he didn’t kill her, she’d be worse off than she was at eighteen. Delilah didn’t know how to get a new socia
l security card, let alone how she was supposed to get back into the U.S. without a passport. Obviously, it could be done, but she didn’t have the skills or knowledge to pull it off.

  Even with all those fears circling her mind like vultures, Delilah couldn’t help but acknowledge what an attractive scene he created as he stalked toward her. Ryu wasn’t quite as tall as Famine—maybe six foot, give or take—and he was built leaner through the shoulders, too. More rapier than broadsword. In the end, it didn’t matter because the person on the other side of the blade still ended up bleeding out.

  He moved with a lethal grace she couldn’t help but appreciate. Rumor had it that he and War sparred in the fighting ring from time to time and, if one was lucky enough to catch a few seconds of it, it was a sight to behold. Delilah believed it. Ryu moved like he knew death.

  But then, Death was his sister, so that made sense.

  An absurd laugh bubbled up in her throat, and it was everything she could do to keep it internal. Instead, Delilah propped her hands back on the lounge chair behind her and waited. The position arched her back and pressed her breasts against the tight lace of her top, and if he looked closely, he’d be able to see the faint outline of her nipples. He wanted her. He wouldn’t watch her so closely while she danced if he didn’t. It was up to her to use that attraction to stay one step ahead of him.

  Ryu slowed. “Delilah.”

  This probably counted as being in public, so instead of debating which name to use, she simply worked up a smile. “Hey.”

  “How’s your arm feeling?”

  In truth, it ached something fierce currently and she shouldn’t be putting even this much pressure on it, but she wouldn’t hold his attention with pity and guilt. The Horsemen had none of either. No, Delilah’s only hope lay in being interesting. “I’d really rather not talk about my arm right now.”

  Ryu gracefully sank onto the next lounge chair over. “I am sorry.” He didn’t quite lob the words at her the way he had yesterday, but they still sounded like they’d been forcefully yanked from his throat.