Page 18 of Ravaged Devotion

“Why would you do that?” Rue demanded, allowing the anger to fuel him mostly so sense and reason couldn’t find their way through. He’d just decked a Black Hart in public. That was practically a death wish.

“Gotta be more specific, little brother,” Ryker drawled, using the new nickname Rue loathed.

“The recording room.” He knew it was Ryker’s doing. Had to be.

“Thought you didn’t need it anymore,” the Black Hart said, snickering when Rue frowned. “Since you’re going to be joining the company after graduation anyway, right?”

He didn’t understand.

“Are you mad about that?” It wasn’t like they’d be in the same departments. Ryker was studying business, had been preparing to join for years.

“Why? You think I’d be happy over the idea of having to see your face every day at the office?” Ryker’s humor drained away, leaving behind the lethal man Rue had been fortunate enough to only catch glimpses of in the past. He took a threatening step forward, and Rue retreated without thinking. “Yeah, that’s more like it. Run away, little brother. Be the scared little bitch you always have been.”

Rue bristled, but it wasn’t entirely untrue. The difference this time, however, was he wasn’t the only one being affected by the man’s bullying.

“Other people need to use that equipment, Ryker.” He gathered the remainder of his anger and glared. “Coming at me is one thing, but—”

Ryker’s hand was on his throat in a flash, squeezing hard enough to cut off airflow. He shook him once. “Don’t you dare pretend like you’re a caring individual. Where was that thoughtfulness when I needed you? Huh? Where was that conscience and moral high ground then?”

Rue’s vision was starting to blacken around the edges.

Ellery let out a low whistle. “Ryk. You’re only hurting yourself, man.”

What did that mean?

Ryker didn’t give Rue long to think it over, slipping his grip to the back of his neck and hauling Rue forward until they were chest to chest. “You chose a very public place to find your balls,” his voice dropped, the words meant for just the two of them. “You aren’t leaving me much of a choice here.”

“Always have to save face.” Rue almost accused him of being like his father in that regard, but smartly stopped himself. “You started it.”

“Do you really believe that?” Ryker asked.

He dropped his gaze.

“Good,” the Black Hart seemed pleased by that reaction. “Go sit on the bleachers.”

“What?”

“You’re going to sit there and watch me for the rest of practice,” Ryker told him.

“No.”

“Yes. And, little brother?” He brought his face dangerously close, their lips a mere breath away, and Rue felt his heart skip several beats, praying it went unnoticed. “If I see you’ve taken your eyes off me for even a second, I’ll do more than wreck a single recording room. Want to pretend to be a good guy so badly? Then do as you’re told and go.”

Rue stood his ground for a moment after he was released, some of his old personality—and stubbornness—shining through the shell he’d become. But then Ryker quirked a daring brow, and his words hit home.

Snatching his bag off the field, Rue stormed across it to the bleachers, trying desperately not to notice the way the other players all stared at him.

And how badly he’d wished for the Black Hart to kiss him just now.

Chapter 4:

The beeps and whirring of machines somehow calmed him.

Or maybe it just made him melancholy, which was such a sharp juxtaposition from the usual fury he carried, that it ended up bringing with it a sense of ease.

“Dad’s being a dick, as per usual.” Ryker sat between two capsule pods, angled toward the one closest to the windows. The fogged over glass looked the same as it had the day he’d first peered inside, most of his brother obscured aside from the center of his face.

The same face Ryker wore, down to the tiny mole just beneath his chin.