Ruled

by Elle Kennedy

  To this day, Rylan couldn’t forget the sounds of her sobs. Low and muffled as she tried to hide them in her pillow so her son wouldn’t know the pain she was in. But he knew. Of course he knew.

  When he was fourteen, he’d confronted his father, demanded to know why his dad kept letting it happen. “Because I love my family,” was the curt response.

  When he’d asked his mother why she let it happen, she’d whispered, “You’re going to learn one day, honey, that there isn’t anything you wouldn’t do for love.”

  Love. Goddamn love.

  Hell, even Reese had agreed with him about the foolishness of that concept.

  Except . . . a part of him wished she’d argued, insisted that love did exist. Instead, she’d made it clear he was nothing but a lay to her. He wasn’t even her friend, not like Sloan, whose friendship mattered so much to her that she refused to ruin it by spreading her legs for him.

  Rylan tamped down his rising bitterness and flicked his spent cigarette out the window. He stared at the dark road ahead of them, which was illuminated by the moon rather than their headlights. It was too dangerous to turn the lights on. They couldn’t risk drawing attention to their vehicles, not after they’d set fire to one of the council’s outposts and killed seven Enforcers. More than seven, if you counted the soldiers Beckett and Nash had taken out. And who knew how many Reese’s team had eliminated.

  Reese. Goddamn it. Why wasn’t she checking in?

  He didn’t like feeling like this. Didn’t like obsessing over terrifying outcomes that hadn’t even happened. And he wasn’t obsessing about just Reese either. Ever since they’d left Foxworth, Sloan had been on his mind too, another source of worry for him. He liked the man, and not just because he’d had Sloan’s cock in his mouth.

  Rylan knew Sloan could handle himself, but it bothered him that they hadn’t left him with sufficient backup. All of Foxworth’s most capable fighters had been assigned to the outpost mission, which meant Sloan was the only line of defense between the town gates and the dangers beyond it.

  As if a higher power had decided to spare him any further panic, Rylan’s radio crackled to life. “On our way to the rendezvous,” came Reese’s soft voice. “Should be there in an hour.”

  Rylan pushed the button. “Everything okay?” he asked, hoping she couldn’t hear the relief in his voice.

  “All good. Just hit a bit of a snag.”

  Suspicion tightened his chest. “What kind of snag?”

  “Our intel was wrong. The guards weren’t stationed where they were supposed to be and we lost the element of surprise. Had to go in guns blazing.”

  “Any casualties?” he said sharply.

  “None.”

  Another wave of relief washed over him, until he remembered what an evasive bitch Reese could be. He quickly rephrased himself. “Anyone hurt?”

  There was a slight pause, then, “No, we’re all good.”

  Just like that, his panic returned. “Goddamn it, baby, are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine.” She sounded annoyed, and a second later the radio fell silent. She’d cut off the feed.

  “What?” he snapped when he noticed Xander’s knowing look.

  “You don’t care about her, huh?” his friend mocked.

  “Shut up. I’d be worried if any one of you was hurt.”

  Xander cocked a brow. “And would you call every one of us baby?”

  Rylan scowled. But Xan was right. No, he wouldn’t call anyone other than Reese that.

  Bone-deep worry ate at him for the rest of the drive. It was the longest thirty minutes of his life, followed by another thirty of waiting for Reese’s crew to arrive at the clearing where they’d arranged to meet. Xander would be taking whatever supplies Reese’s team had stolen from the outpost back to Connor’s wilderness camp. And while Rylan should probably go back to Con’s too, he intended on returning to Foxworth, a plan that hadn’t made sense to either Con or Xan, or, frankly, to Rylan himself.

  If he wanted sex, he had plenty of willing partners at the other camp. Hudson and Connor. Layla and Piper, the two young women under Lennox and Jamie’s protection. But he wasn’t sure his reasons for going back to Foxworth had anything to do with sex. There was unfinished business between him and Reese . . . and Sloan . . . although he had no fucking clue what it was.

  The rumble of an engine jerked his gaze toward the edge of the clearing. Relief hit him square in the chest when a Jeep covered in rust and mud appeared on the overgrown path. A black SUV followed, and then both vehicles came to a stop.

  Rylan saw the “snag” the moment Reese slid out of the Jeep. She wasn’t wearing a coat, so he could clearly see the bloodstained piece of fabric tied around her upper arm as she gestured something to the driver. Her men quickly began unloading the stolen supplies and carting them from one convoy of vehicles to the other.

  Her expression was all business as she walked over to Rylan. “Everything went as planned?”

  He nodded, reaching for her arm. “What happened?” he asked grimly.

  She shifted away before his hand could land on her. “It’s nothing.” Her sharp brown eyes surveyed the clearing. “We need to do this fast. Load everything and then get the hell out of here.”

  He went for her arm again. “Let me see it.”

  “Later.” Dismissing him from her gaze, she strode off to exchange a few words with Xander.

  Ten minutes later, the two convoys were back on the road. This time, Rylan was in the back of the Jeep next to Reese, who cursed in protest when he snapped open the medic kit he’d grabbed from the trunk.

  “I’m fine,” she insisted.

  “Humor me.”

  He untied the bloody fabric binding her arm. It was someone’s shirt sleeve, he realized, and soaked crimson. To his relief, the wound he found underneath wasn’t as serious as he’d thought. Just a surface gash that was no longer bleeding.

  “You’ll live,” he declared as he reached for a small bottle of antiseptic.

  “No shit,” she muttered irritably. “I told you I was fine.”

  He kept his touch gentle as he cleaned the wound, but although he knew the rubbing alcohol must sting like a bitch, Reese didn’t even flinch. “What happened?” he pushed.

  She made a grumbling sound. “Got grazed by a bullet.”

  His heart flipped in concern. “You serious? Those bastards shot you?”

  “No, they grazed me.” She sounded annoyed again. “There were three Enforcers posted at the back gate. Our intel said there was only supposed to be one, so that’s what we based our assignments on. I was handling it alone.”

  His pulse sped up in alarm. “You took on three Enforcers by yourself?”

  “I didn’t have anyone to provide cover fire.” A pained look crossed her eyes. “That’s usually Sloan’s job. Or rather, that’s my job and Sloan is usually the one throwing himself in front of the bullets.”

  Of course. Because that was what Sloan did: protect Reese at all costs.

  “You regretting asking him to stay behind?” Rylan adopted a careless tone, but tension filled his gut as he waited for her answer.

  Which never came. She simply pressed her lips together and said nothing. But her silence was as clear as the full moon overhead.

  He tossed the pink-tinged gauze on the floor of the Jeep and silently bandaged up her arm, wishing like hell that she would confide in him. He didn’t even care if she wanted to sit there for the entire eight-hour drive and talk about nothing but Sloan. Hell, he’d listen to her talk about the weather as long as it meant being included in her thoughts, as long as she recognized his fucking presence.

  But she wasn’t even looking at him, damn it. Her gaze was fixed out the window, and her silence . . . it grated. It really grated, so much that he found himself clapping one hand around her chin to wrench her face t
oward his.

  “What are—”

  He didn’t let her finish. His mouth crashed over hers in a hard kiss, all his frustration coming out in the greedy thrust of his tongue, the curl of his fingers around her slender throat. Reese gasped against his lips, but she didn’t push him away. She kissed him back with fervor, her hands pressing against his chest, stroking him over his shirt.

  When they finally pulled apart, they were both breathing hard and the back windows of the Jeep had fogged up. Reese’s men, Trace and Daniel, sat quietly in the front seat. Neither commented on the display of passion and aggression that had just filled the car.

  “Rylan,” she started, her expression holding a hint of reluctance.

  “You should get some sleep,” he said gruffly, then tugged her toward him. When she tried to squirm away, he forcibly moved her head against his shoulder. “Sleep, Reese. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

  After a few seconds, she relaxed, her steady, even breathing warming the side of his neck.

  He, on the other hand, was the farthest thing from relaxed. The tension refused to leave him. So did the worry, which gnawed harder at him each time his gaze lowered to Reese’s bandaged arm.

  She could’ve died tonight. That bullet could’ve done more than graze her flesh. It could’ve pumped a hole in her head, burned into her abdomen and made her bleed out, punctured a lung and she would’ve drowned in her own blood. And then what the hell would he have said to Sloan? Sorry, brother, but our woman got iced by an Enforcer. My bad.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  In a moment of clarity, Rylan suddenly understood Connor’s longing for the old farm. For the days when it had been him, Con, and Pike. The days before Xander, before Kade, before Hudson and Reese and Sloan and all the other outlaws they’d met and formed connections with since then.

  Connor was right. Life was so much easier when there was nobody around for you to give a damn about.

  17

  It was morning when the convoy drove through Foxworth’s gates. Reese expected to find Sloan waiting in the courtyard for them, but to her chagrin, he was nowhere in sight.

  He must still be angry with her, then.

  And he had every right to be.

  She slid out of the Jeep and issued a few orders before stalking over to Vaughn and Davis, who, unlike Sloan, were there to greet her on arrival. She felt Rylan’s blue eyes boring a hole into her back as she spoke with the men, but she didn’t turn around. Nor did she go to him once she dismissed her people. Instead, she took off in a swift walk toward the building she shared with Sloan.

  Their apartment was empty.

  Fuck. Where was he? She hoped he didn’t plan on avoiding her all day, because she had important things to say, and damned if he was going to deny her the opportunity to say them.

  In her room, she stripped out of her dusty jeans and let them drop to the floor. She was just removing her shirt when she heard the muffled thud of footsteps outside her door.

  Sloan entered the room without knocking. His dark eyes rested briefly on her breasts, covered only by a snug black bra, before shifting to the bandage on her upper arm.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She nodded. “It was just a graze.”

  “Let me have a look.”

  Reese didn’t voice an objection as he led her to the bed and gently forced her to sit. Then he settled beside her and peeled off the bandage. He examined the wound, his fingertips skimming the outside edges of the long, red scrape.

  Maybe with you, those hands would be gentle.

  Unwittingly, Rylan’s words floated through her head. Right now, Sloan’s touch was gentle. Infinitely gentle. But it hadn’t been gentle before she’d left on the outpost mission. His hands had been rough and unforgiving then, gripping her ass tight enough to leave marks on her flesh.

  She shivered at the memory, but Sloan mistook the response for one of pain rather than remembered pleasure.

  “I’ll be right back,” he announced, then left the room in purposeful strides.

  Reese heard his footsteps in the hall, in the living area, in the small kitchen they shared. When he returned, he held a plastic pill bottle in his hands.

  “No,” she said immediately. “We’re not wasting our antibiotics on one silly cut.”

  “That cut is as prone to infection as any other, silly or not,” he replied in a stern voice. He shook two pills out of the vial and onto his palm. “Open your mouth.”

  Her chin jutted out in a stubborn pose.

  “Teresa.”

  “Goddamn it, Sloan, it’s a waste of resources—”

  He took advantage of the parting of her lips by pressing the pills on her tongue. The coarse pad of his finger slid across her tongue on its way out of her mouth, and then he pinched her lips together and said, “Swallow.”

  Reese made a disgruntled sound, but since his fingers were keeping her mouth closed, she had no choice but to swallow the meds. Without water to ease their way down, the pills scraped the back of her throat and brought a sour taste to her mouth. “Asshole,” she accused.

  He chuckled.

  Sighing, she leaned toward the night table and grabbed the half-empty bottle of water sitting atop it. After she’d gulped down a few mouthfuls, she twisted the cap back on. “You weren’t at the gate when we drove in,” she said softly.

  “I was dealing with the pipe in the kitchen. It’s leaking again.”

  She shifted awkwardly. “Oh. Did you fix it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, good. Thanks.”

  He acknowledged that with a nod.

  Silence fell, long and agonizing, as they sat there staring straight ahead.

  There were so many things she wanted to say to him, but she was having trouble making her vocal cords work. Talking to Sloan didn’t used to be this hard. She could always tell him whatever was on her mind. The good, the bad, the terrifying. Sloan was the only person who’d seen her at her most vulnerable, the only person in this messed-up world who she was able to show that side of herself to.

  Fuck, why had he kissed her? Why had he opened that door? They’d kept it under lock and key for a good reason, damn it.

  She took a breath, forcing herself to say something.

  “I was wrong—”

  “You were right—”

  Their startled gazes collided as they both spoke and halted at the same time.

  “What?” she said stupidly.

  “You were right,” Sloan repeated.

  “Right about what?”

  He rubbed his beard, and Reese shivered again, remembering how those sexy bristles had abraded her skin when his mouth had devoured hers the other day. His blistering kisses had left red marks on her cheeks, her neck, her collarbone.

  “I needed to stay behind,” Sloan told her, his tone rueful.

  “No. I was wrong. You needed to be with me.” She gestured to her arm. “This wouldn’t have happened if you’d been there watching my back. And yes, it’s only a silly cut, but . . . it didn’t feel right being out in the field without you.”

  He gave a steadfast shake of his head. “I needed to be here in Foxworth. Goddamn Enforcers showed up, sweetheart.”

  Her breath hitched. “Shit.”

  “They searched the town again. Nobody else would’ve been able to handle that, Reese. And they wouldn’t have believed the story we fed them if it had come from anyone other than me. They’ve been monitoring us for years. They know I’m your shadow, that if you were planning an attack, you’d make sure I was by your side.” Grudgingly, he said, “It was a smart move on your part, going without me.”

  “It didn’t feel smart when we were at that outpost. It felt . . . unbalanced. Like I was missing a limb.” She sighed. “You’re my right hand.”

  “And you’
re mine.”

  Her heart sped up when Sloan took her hand and threaded their fingers together.

  “But sometimes hands need to work independently of each other,” he went on. “And that’s okay. They can each be doing their own thing, as long as they recognize that they’re stronger together.”

  She laughed. “Well, aren’t you poetic this morning.”

  “What can I say? You bring out that side in me.”

  Reese lowered her gaze to their joined hands. His fingers were long and masculine, his hand so much stronger than hers. Her fingers looked downright fragile laced through his.

  “We need to talk about the kiss,” she whispered.

  “We don’t have to.”

  “Yes, we do.” She squeezed his knuckles. “We don’t avoid things, you and I. Well, except for . . . that one thing.”

  He snorted. “Yeah. That one thing.”

  Silence fell between them.

  “I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he finally said, his voice thick with remorse. “You didn’t want it.”

  “I . . . I did want it. Fuck, Sloan . . . I’ve always wanted you. You had to have known that.”

  There was a sharp intake of breath.

  “It’s true,” she said quietly. “When I first met you and Jake on the road, I honestly can’t say which one of you I thought was more attractive. Jake, with his lopsided smile and all that golden hair. Or you, so big and powerful, with that intense stare that saw right through me.” Her hand lifted to his face to stroke his beard. When she rubbed her thumb over his lower lip, he inhaled again. “But Jake made the first move.”

  Sloan nodded. “I know. That’s why I backed off.” He swept his fingers over her knuckles in a tender caress. “I set aside my lust and disappointment and tried to be the best friend I could be for you. I wasn’t mad that you picked him, sweetheart. Jake’s star shone bright.”

  “But I wanted both of you. Not just him.”

  The sadness in his expression was unmistakable. “You never said anything.”

  “I did.”