Ruthless Kings of Obsession (Leighton Royals University #3)

8. Shattered Memories Of Us

Shattered Memories Of Us

~ G EMINI~

The darkness becomes my sanctuary as I navigate the warehouse's labyrinthine corridors with practiced precision. Each step is calculated, measured against blueprints I've spent countless nights memorizing until they became as familiar as the scars on my skin. The chaos behind me – gunshots, shouts, the sound of pursuit – feels distant, almost dreamlike against the crystal clarity of my focused mind.

*Three steps forward. Left turn. Count four doors. Sharp right. Duck under the low pipe. Second corridor.*

My fingertips trail along the cool concrete walls, using touch to confirm what my memory already knows. The tactical vest I stripped from the guard earlier feels heavy against my chest, but the weight is grounding, keeping me anchored in the present when memories threaten to drag me under.

Every shadow holds echoes of him. Every corner threatens to unveil another memory I'm not ready to face. But they come anyway, crashing over me like waves against rocks, each one threatening to erode what's left of my sanity.

*Three weeks ago. Our bedroom at the lake house. The moonlight painting everything in shades of silver and shadow.*

The memory hits with such force that I have to pause, pressing my back against the wall to stay upright as it consumes me:

*The sheets were tangled around our legs, still warm from lovemaking. My phone cast a blue glow across our skin as I studied the warehouse schematics one last time, making sure every detail was perfect.*

*Zander's arm snaked around my waist, pulling me closer to his chest. His chin came to rest on my shoulder, his breath tickling my ear. "What's got my Sweet Dynamite so focused at this ungodly hour?"*

*My heart skipped – it always did when he called me that. My thumb swiped quickly across the screen, replacing the blueprints with a mindless social media feed. "Just can't sleep."*

*"Liar," he murmured, but there was no accusation in his voice – only that deep understanding that made me fall more in love with him every day. "You know you can tell me anything."*

*Turning in his arms, I found myself drowning in those forest-green eyes that saw straight through every mask, every pretense. "Maybe I'm planning to change careers. Become an architect or something less... bloody."*

*His laugh rumbled through his chest, vibrating against my skin. "You'd be brilliant at it. Those analytical skills, that attention to detail..." His fingers traced patterns on my bare hip. "You could be anything you wanted, Sweet Dynamite. Design skyscrapers, build bridges, keep killing assholes who deserve it – doesn't matter. I'd still be completely, stupidly, dangerously in love with you."*

*"What if I decided to become an exotic dancer?"*

*His grip tightened possessively, a growl rising from deep in his chest. That dangerous glint appeared in his eyes – the one that reminded me he was just as broken, just as deadly as I was. "That wouldn't work."*

*"No?" I teased, enjoying the way his jaw clenched. "Why not?"*

*"Because," he said, rolling us so he hovered above me, his body caging mine against the mattress, "I can barely handle sharing you with Matteo and Ares. The idea of strangers seeing what's mine?" He lowered his head, teeth grazing my neck. "No. Absolutely not."*

*"Bold of you to assume I even know how to work a pole."*

*He pulled back, studying my face with that intense gaze that made me feel completely exposed. "Do you?"*

*"Maybe." I let my fingers trail down his chest, feeling his heart race beneath my touch. "Wouldn't you like to know?"*

*In one fluid motion, he had my wrists pinned above my head, his body pressing mine deeper into the mattress. "Will I get a private demonstration someday?"*

*"Only if you let me blindfold you first."*

*That laugh – God, that laugh. Manic and beautiful and completely uninhibited. It was followed by a kiss that tasted like promises and danger and home. "Anything you want, baby. You want me blindfolded? Done. Tied up? Just say when."*

*"Actually..." I bit my lip, watching his pupils dilate. "I've been thinking about seeing Matteo in handcuffs."*

*The way his eyes lit up, that devious smile spreading across his face – it was everything. "Now that's an interesting thought. Think we can convince Ares to help?"*

*"Pretty sure Ares would do anything if we asked nicely enough."*

*His laugh turned into a groan as I arched against him. "Fuck, I love your mind almost as much as I love your body."*

*"Almost?"*

*"Equal amounts," he corrected, lowering his head to kiss me. It was deep, passionate, full of promise and possession and?—*

The memory shatters as I slam into a dead end, the impact jarring me back to the present. My legs give out, and I slide down the wall, a sob tearing from my throat before I can stop it. The tears come hot and fast, blurring my vision until the darkness becomes absolute.

*He's gone.*

The reality of it hits me like a physical blow, forcing another sob from my chest. My forehead presses against the cold wall, seeking something – anything – to ground me. But the chill only reminds me of what I've lost. Of how Zander's touch used to send electricity through my veins, how his presence made me feel alive in ways I never knew I could be.

***"Get up. Keep fighting. Make them pay."***

The voices in my head try to rally me, but they're drowned out by the tidal wave of memories. The way his fingers would map my skin like he was memorizing every inch. How his kisses left me tingling for hours afterward, little reminders that I belonged to someone who saw all my darkness and loved me anyway.

"I didn't know," I whisper into the void, my voice cracking. "I didn't know what love was supposed to feel like. Not until you showed me that broken things could be beautiful too."

Another sob echoes off the concrete walls. I should be quieter – there are still people hunting me in this darkness. But the pain is too raw, too overwhelming. My heart feels like it's being shredded, each memory another knife twisting deeper.

*The way my heart somehow expanded, making room for Ares and Matteo without diminishing what I felt for Zander. The four of us creating something beautiful from our collective brokenness, each shard fitting perfectly with the others.*

"How am I supposed to do this without you?" My fist hits the wall, the pain barely registering through my grief. "How do I pretend you didn't reshape every piece of me? That you didn't make me better, stronger, more alive?"

***"Channel it. Use it. Destroy them all."***

But for the first time since the voices became my constant companions, they bring no comfort. What's the point of vengeance if I can't share the victory with him? What's the point of becoming a Queen if my most devoted King isn't here to see me reign?

A presence behind me – subtle, almost imperceptible, but there. My body reacts on instinct, grief transforming into lethal precision. I spin, dropping low to sweep their legs. They're skilled, but I'm riding the wave of emotion into perfect clarity of violence.

We grapple in the darkness, a dance of deadly intent. I manage to flip them, using their momentum against them as Zander taught me. They hit the ground hard, and I'm on them instantly, Knifey pressed against their throat.

"Easy there, Moonflower."

The nickname stops my hand mid-strike. Only one person has ever called me that – a reminder of another life, another time, when I was still learning to embrace the darkness within me.

"Ren?"

A low chuckle beneath me, familiar yet strange after so long. "Long time no see."

The blade of Knifey presses harder against his throat. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't paint these walls with your blood."

"Because," his voice remains infuriatingly calm, "I think we both know there are bigger games being played tonight. And you're going to want to hear what I have to say about who really ordered the hit on your King."

I stay perched on his chest, tears still wet on my cheeks but my hand steady on my weapon. Everything about this night has spiraled far beyond my careful plans, and now another ghost from my past has emerged from the shadows.

*Zander would tell me to listen, to gather information before deciding who lives or dies.*

The thought brings fresh pain, but also clarity. I'm not just fighting for vengeance anymore – I'm fighting to uncover the truth about who's really pulling the strings in this deadly game.

"Start talking," I growl, not moving Knifey from his throat. "And if I sense even a hint of deception, they'll be finding pieces of you for weeks."

Behind us, explosions rock the warehouse, but neither of us flinches.

We're locked in this moment, past and present colliding in the darkness, while somewhere above us, a much bigger game continues to unfold.

*I'll find the truth, my love. I'll burn this whole world down if I have to. And when I'm done, they'll know why they should have feared the Ruthless Queen you helped create.*