The Ritual: A Dark College Romance

I EXIT HER room and walk down the hallway. I need a fucking energy drink. Hell, I need them to hook me up to an IV of straight caffeine. It’s like when she ran all over again, but this time, I know she’s right in front of me, not missing.

She could have been, though. Matt could have easily taken her. And I’m more confused as to why he didn’t. I mean, thank God that’s not the case, but why? What the fuck is he doing?

Is this his way of playing with his food before he eats it?

A way to draw out his torture. I murdered his only two allies, and he just left her when he had the opportunity to take her and make her pay for my sins.

Coming up to a vending machine, I stick in a five-dollar bill and press on the energy drink that I know isn’t going to do shit for me.

I’m not sure what the fuck he’s up to, but it’s not sitting right with me. Nothing about her being in a hospital bed is.

“Come on.” I slap the side of the machine when I see it hasn’t given me my drink. “Son of a bitch!” I kick it.

“I gave it a twenty earlier and got nothing for it.”

I look over at Ty standing beside me and sigh heavily. “What are you doing here?” He promised me he would watch her. I was the one who failed her by expecting anyone else to keep her safe.

He tucks his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and rocks back on his heels, dropping his head. “I can’t leave, knowing you’re still here.”

I roll my eyes and go to walk away. Fuck the five dollars, but his words stop me.

“You were here with me …” Pulling his hand from his pocket, he runs it through his unruly hair, and my eyes drop to his shirt, realizing he’s still dressed in the same one he was wearing when he brought my wife in. I know this because it still has her blood on it. I haven’t left this place, but thankfully, Gunner brought me some new clothes. “I just didn’t think you should be alone in case …” He stops himself.

My hands fist. “In case she dies?” I finish it for him. I’m being dramatic. I’ve spoken to Gavin, and he said that everything looked good as far as no serious injuries. No hemorrhaging. She does have a broken nose and some cuts and bruises, but it’s still the fact that it could have been so much worse.

His shoulders drop. “I didn’t know …”

“What, Ty?” I raise my voice. “That Matt was there? Because he knew she was there.” We’d been staying there all week. Not like it would have been hard for him to find out. I let her dance with Sarah the night before, wanting her to have some fun. I should have just run with her.

“It’s not your fault,” he says softly, and I give a rough laugh.

“Thanks for the opinion that I didn’t ask for.” I turn, giving him my back.

“The Lords are only out for themselves, Ryat,” he calls out.

Stopping again, I grind my teeth and turn to face him, but say nothing.

“You want to save her?” He walks over to me. “The only way to do that is to let her go because even if you were to die tomorrow, they would own her.” My spine stiffens at his words. “Her father won’t be able to save her. Your father won’t be able to save her. They take prisoners, Ryat.”

I glare at him, “Then why are you still a member, Ty?” Arching a brow, I continue, “Just betray your oath, and they’ll make that decision for you.”

He smirks, his left hand coming up to rest on my shoulder. “Why do you think I chose the hell I did?” With that, he slaps my shoulder twice and then walks off.

I stare at the energy drink I never got but paid for, and my teeth clench. He was talking about Blackout. The Lords set him up with that club. Purchased the land, built the building, and then handed it all over to him—free and clear. Now it makes me wonder what he has to do to keep it.

Shaking my head, I tell myself not to fucking care about his problems. I did once. I even sat here in the waiting room with him, but I know how that ended. Much worse than my experience here.

I know Blakely will come home, and I know that I won’t let her go. I’ve seen the worst of the Lords, but I’ve also seen how they take care of their members—like fucking royalty.

I’ll do what needs to be done and make sure that Blakely and our future kids are very well taken care of and able to hide if something were to happen to me. That’s the best I can do for them.

Walking back over to the machine, I lean over, placing my forehead on the cold glass and sigh heavily. “Fuck it!” Then I stand, reach up and grip the back of my shirt. I yank it up and over my head, knocking my hat to the floor in the process.

“Oh my God.” Blake’s nurse from earlier walks by. “What…what are you doing, Mr. Archer?” she asks, flustered. Her eyes drop to the way my abs flex from my heavy breathing.

Ignoring her, I wrap my shirt around my right hand, make a fist, and slam it into the glass.

She squeals, jumping back. “Ryat!”

Pulling my arm out through the glass, she watches me wide-eyed as I unwrap the shirt from my fist, shake the remaining glass out and then pull it back on, along with my hat.

Reaching back in, I grab two energy drinks.

“Your hand.” She steps toward me. “You’re bleeding.”

I have blood running down my arm from where the glass cut me once I broke through. No biggie.

“You need stitches …”

“I’m fine,” I tell her. I’ve fucked myself up more in a fight.

“But …” She reaches out, grabbing me. “You may have glass in it.”

“Then I’ll get it out.” I yank my hand back from her. “Go do what you’re being fucking paid to do and help the ones who want it.”

She gasps like what I said offended her, which I did no such thing. It’s literally her job. Leaving her standing there with her mouth wide open, I make my way down the hallway to the waiting room to see Ty still here.

I sigh and plop down next to him, and without saying a word, I pass him one of the drinks I took from the crooked machine.

He chuckles but reaches out and takes it. It’s as close to an apology as he’s going to get. My wife is the only person who will ever hear sorry from me. But I do understand it wasn’t his fault. It was mine. And when she finally gets to go home, I’ll allow myself the chance to come up with an idea on how I’m going to kill Matt for laying his hands on her.

“I had Sarah drive us here in my car,” he speaks. “That way you can look at Blakely’s where it sits. See if he left anything behind.”

I swallow, knowing that I’m not going to like what I see on the inside after what he did to her. But he’s right, I need to look and see if he left any clues to find him before he has the chance to touch her again. “Thanks.”

BLAKELY

“RYAT,” I GROWL. “I can do it.”

“I know you can, Blake,” he lies. If he thought I could, then he’d actually let me.

Shoving his arm away from me, I give up when he doesn’t budge and allow him to help me walk back to the bed. I have a broken nose, not a broken leg.

Getting up and into it, I sigh. “When can I leave?” I ask him. I feel like five days—I was out the first three—is a long time for a busted-up face. They keep sending me for all these tests that come back fine every time.

“They said sometime tomorrow.”

“Why not today? I’m fine,” I say, pushing my split bottom lip out, hoping that will get me some sympathy.

It doesn’t.

“If the doctor thought you could leave today, then he’d let you,” he says matter-of-factly.

“This is like prison,” I say, throwing my head into my pillow and making Ryat laugh. “What’s so funny?”

“Coming from someone who’s been in jail, this is nothing like it.”

I open my mouth to ask when the hell he was arrested, but my door opens, and our fathers step in. They’re like best fucking friends now, I guess. Always together. Always here. Maybe they always have been, and I just didn’t know it.

I haven’t spoken to my mother. I’m pretty sure my father told her to stay the hell away from me after Ryat informed him that she slapped me. It’s been nice, actually, and kind of sad that I haven’t even missed her.

“Okay, everything looks good at the cabin,” my father tells Ryat.

“What do you mean?” I wonder.

“I had all new cameras installed. Inside and out,” Ryat answers. “I sent them over there so I could watch them to make sure they were working properly.”

“Why would you doubt that they are?” I ask, stuffing a french fry in my mouth that Abbot brought me.

“I’ve been watching them for over a week now and haven’t seen any activity,” he states, sitting down on the couch.

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“You can never be too cautious,” he answers vaguely.

I stuff another fry into my mouth, close my eyes, and moan. So fucking good. Opening my eyes, I notice everyone is staring at me. “What?” I ask nervously.

My father runs his hand through his hair. “I think it’s time …”

“Phil…” Abbot clears his throat. “We agreed—”

“I changed my mind,” he interrupts him.

My eyes go to Ryat, and he shrugs like he has no clue what they’re talking about either. “Okay.” I sit up straighter in bed. “What’s going on?”

“Well …” My father swallows. “I need to tell you something.”

“Then tell me.” I’m so over all the secrets. Just get it all out right here in the open.

He sucks in a deep breath and reaches up, removing his tie. Oh, he’s serious. Unbuttoning his top button on his dress shirt, he says, “I dated a woman at Barrington—LeAnne Mayes. She was my chosen.”

It didn’t take much to realize my father is a Lord. The fact that he was at the house of Lords after Ryat dragged me back was my biggest clue. I do, however, find it odd that I never paid much attention to his life. Or that he never told me. All the trips he and my mom needed to take for his business. Every time he had to miss a birthday or holiday—was it because the Lords called him to work?

I frown at the name, not recognizing it and wondering why, all of a sudden, it matters. I glance at Ryat, and he’s staring down at the floor, face scrunched as if he’s trying to decide if he knows who that is or not.

“Should I know her?” I ask.

“No.” My father shakes his head, but his eyes shoot to Ryat before returning to mine.

“Why is she so important?” I ask, scanning the room, and my husband is still stuck on the name in deep concentration.

“Because I loved her,” he announces, and his broad shoulders sag as if that was a heavy weight he had been carrying.

Okay. I never expected my father not to have anyone before he met my mother. I’ve never heard either one of them talk about past relationships, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t exist. So, I’m not sure why this is news. “Did mom know that?” I ask.

His face whitens a little bit, and he undoes another button. “She was already promised to someone else … LeAnne,” he states, ignoring my question. Again, as if this should mean something to me. Or any of us. “But your mom … you know how we got married shortly after dating?”

“Yeah,” I answer slowly.

“Well …” He scratches the back of his neck. “We had an arranged marriage.”

“No, you didn’t,” I argue as if I was there and laugh it off.

He sighs. “We did. We lied to you.”

“Why … wait?” I sit up even more. “Why would you lie about your marriage?” He drops his eyes to the floor, and I look over at Ryat on the couch. He’s already staring at me this time, and he has this look of pity in his eyes. “You knew they lied to me?”

“Yes,” he answers without hesitation.

My face scrunches in confusion. “Why would you make that up?”

My father shrugs. “Well, your mother told everyone that story, and as you grew older, it just became the norm.”

I look back over at Ryat, and he’s watching me intently. It makes me think about when we have kids. Will I tell them how we met? About the ritual? The vow ceremony? The house of Lords? Absolutely not. “I understand why you would hide that as a child, but you could have told me at some point over the past few years. Especially when you were trying to make me do the same thing.”

My father sighs. “I never wanted you to marry Matt. That was your mother’s doing.”

“You could have told her no,” I argue. “You know how I felt about an arranged marriage. And how much I didn’t want that.”

He undoes another button on his shirt. “I couldn’t. She threatened …” Trailing off, I look from him to my father-in-law, who turns his back to everyone and looks out my window with his hands in the pockets of his slacks.

“Threatened what?” I demand as the silence lingers. “What did the Lords have you do that was so bad that you couldn’t stand up for me?” My mother pretty much blackmailed him. I’m not surprised. She’s a vindictive bitch like that.

“Well …” He swallows nervously, and I see sweat bead along his forehead. “My chosen … it was so long ago. And …” I’ve never heard my father stumble over his words so much.

“Motherfucker!” Ryat hisses and gets to his feet.

“What?” I ask, watching him start to pace.

He ignores me and runs both of his hands through his hair aggressively.

What did I miss?

“I can’t fucking believe it,” Ryat mumbles to himself. “Mayes …”

“Now you understand why we wanted you to tell the Lords what happened,” my father snaps at him. Taking the opportunity to avoid my previous question, he obviously understands what Ryat gets and I’m missing. “But here’s your chance. Tell your father and me what happened right now.”

Ryat stops and turns to face him. He doesn’t actually speak, but his tense body says enough. He’s pissed.

“We know you didn’t do it,” Mr. Archer tells him, turning back to face his son. “We just need to know.”

“I’m not a fucking rat!” Ryat shouts.

Whoa! What the fuck am I missing? I feel like it’s several things now. “Dad,” I say, trying to calm them both down, but he ignores me.

“A rat?” My father scoffs at Ryat. “Are you serious? He’s no longer a Lord. He’s on the run, been stripped of his title. This is passed that. Matt has put your wife—my daughter—in the hospital. Why do you think I forced you to choose her in the first place? Huh?” he demands. “I didn’t want her near him.”

“And he will pay for that,” Ryat growls through gritted teeth.

“Or why I didn’t take the money when you offered to buy her hand in marriage.”

I narrow my eyes at Ryat for that one, still a little sour.

“I was honored to give Blakely over to you,” he adds, softening his tone.

Fuck, they act like I’m not even here.

“You knew this whole time.” Ryat shakes his head with disgust at his father, who doesn’t deny his words.

“Matt needs to be taken down. And you still have the opportunity to do that.” My father sighs. “All you have to do is tell us—”

“I didn’t work this damn hard, devote my life to the fucking Lords to lose my credibility because of Matt!” Ryat shouts, interrupting him.

“So, you will risk your wife?” My father shouts in his face.

Ryat’s chest rises as he sucks in a deep breath. “No.” He shakes his head, lowering his voice, and my father smiles, satisfied with his answer. “I won’t be like you.” His words make the smile fall from Dad’s face. “You were the one who chose to keep secrets from Blake. You were the one who chose to risk her life by allowing Valerie to continue with the arranged marriage.” He looks him up and down with his lips pulled back. “That woman treated her like shit! And you couldn’t be a damn man and stand up for your daughter !” Ryat snorts. “And you call yourself a Lord?”

“Listen here!” He gets in Ryat’s face, but my husband doesn’t back down. “You don’t know what I did for my family!”

“I don’t have to.” Ryat takes a step back and points at me, sitting up in bed. “I know what you didn’t do.” His green eyes find mine. “I’m sorry, Blake.” My pulse races at the sincerity of his voice. Ryat never apologizes. “But your father has been lying to you all your life. Valerie isn’t your mother.”

“What?” I ask, my eyes going back and forth between my husband and my father. “Ryat?” I whisper. “Why … why would you say that?” The room falls silent, and Mr. Archer runs a hand down his face. “Daddy?” My eyes shoot to his. “Tell him he’s wrong.” My chest tightens as the silence lingers. As much as I hate my mother on most days, they wouldn’t lie about that. Would they?