Ruthless Regret (Ruthless Games Duology #2)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

ZAIN

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“I don’t think it was him.” My voice is a lot steadier than it should be, because inside my mind is screaming at me.

“How do you know?”

How do I know? Because there’s blood on my fucking floor.

“Because I think someone has just taken Ashley from my house.”

How long has passed since I heard the glass smash?

It can’t have been more than a minute or two. If the sound was because someone broke in and grabbed her, then there’s no way they could have gotten far.

Unless she’s unconscious, or the intruder incapacitated her somehow.

There’s no way she wouldn’t put up a fight, or struggle to escape, if she was able to.

Did her scream sound cut off?

I’m not sure. Maybe?

What I am sure of is that she hasn’t run. The scream, the smashed window, the blood on the floor. All of that points to someone surprising her.

Unless she set it up, and wants you to think that …

I cut off that negative thought before it fully forms.

Why would she do something like that?

She ran from you before.

That was different. She thought her mom was in danger from me, and I’d just forced her to sleep in the room where Jason and Louisa were killed.

But not now, not after what we just did.

Why not? Wouldn’t now be the best time to do it? While you’re conflicted about how you feel?

I shake my head, but that little voice persists.

What if I’m wrong about this? About her?

No, I’m not. When would she have had a chance to arrange it? She didn’t even know we were coming here.

My senses are on high alert when I step outside.

“Zain, what’s going on?” Sheriff McFadden’s voice is a buzzing in my ear that I ignore while I scan the enclosed grounds at the back of the house.

I call her name. My voice echoes around the garden, but she doesn’t reply.

Visions of the night I walked into the house and found Louisa and Jason dead bombard me, and I shake my head again.

No. She isn’t dead. She’s out here somewhere.

“Zain? Zain, are you listening to me?” The sheriff’s voice pierces through my thoughts.

“I’m here. I can’t see her.”

“You need to tell me what’s happening.”

“Ashley is missing, that’s what is happening. Where the fuck are you?”

While I talk, I consider the options. There are only two places where someone could hide without me seeing them. To the left, the path runs the length of the house and leads around to the front. Someone could have taken her that way. The pool and pool house are to the right, the back of it backing onto the wall that runs the entire length of the garden.

I choose to go left, and almost as soon as I turn to follow the path down to the main gates, another scream rips through the silence. I spin and run toward the sound. It didn’t come from the front of the house, which means she’s still around the back somewhere, and I picked the wrong direction.

“Ashley?” My voice echoes around the garden.

“Zai—” My name is cut off by another muffled scream.

“Fuck.”

The scream came from the far end of the yard, behind the pool house, and close to the wall encircling the back of the property. The minute I sprint around the corner, I see them. A figure, clothed in black, has their hands around her arms. She’s twisting and turning in their grip, trying to escape, but the figure is bigger than she is, and no matter what she does, she can’t break free.

"Let her fucking go!"

The figure’s head snaps around, revealing the black ski mask covering their face. But with their attention on me, their grip on Ashley falters for just a moment. It’s enough to give her the opening she needs. She twists free, and the momentum sends her sprawling backward to the ground.

The figure turns their back on me and steps forward, arm lifting. Ashley scrambles back, throwing one hand above her head.

The sun hits the figure’s upraised arm, and the metal in their hand gleams.

Fuck. No. No fucking way.

“Ashley, get the fuck up.” My cell falls to the ground, and I take off across the grass toward them both.

At my shout, the figure’s hand drops and they half turn toward me. I don't slow down, ducking my head down and charging straight at them. The second they realize I’m not stopping, they straighten and sprint toward the back wall. They’re up and over it before I can reach them.

I follow them, intent on taking them down before they escape, but Ashley calls my name. Her voice is shaky, scared, and it stops me in my tracks. I turn and hurry back to her.

She’s on her knees, head bowed, one hand pressed against her chest. I crouch beside her.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" My hands land on her shoulders, and I run my palms down her arms, and pull her hand away from her chest to check for blood.

Her head lifts, and her eyes meet mine.

"N-no … I don’t think so. Who was that? What did they want?”

“Can you stand? Let’s get back inside.” It’s not that I’m ignoring her questions, I just don’t have an answer for her, and I want to get us both back inside the house before they come back.

I don’t think they will, but at this point I’m not taking any chances.

I take her hand, and stand, pulling her to her feet along with me. Her fingers are cold, her entire body is shaking, but she isn’t bleeding, and I don’t think she’s hurt.

“Let’s get back inside.” I check over my shoulder constantly on the walk back to the house, watching for the intruder to reappear, scanning the grounds in case there’s more than one, but there’s nothing to be seen.

Sheriff McFadden’s voice crackles from the cell phone lying abandoned on the ground.

“Zain, what’s going on? Talk to me!”

I stoop and pick it up, lift it to my ear, but don’t stop moving.

“Whoever attacked Ashley ran off. They had a fucking knife.” Beside me, Ashley flinches. I tighten my grip on her hand. “They jumped the wall at the back of my property. Where the fuck are you?”

He doesn’t answer my question. “Lock all the doors and windows. I’m on my way.”

“They smashed the window on the back door. Locking it won’t make any fucking difference if they want to get back in. You were supposed to have people here.”

“Then go into a room that has a lock on it and wait there.” His voice is calm. It annoys the fuck out of me.

“McFadden—” But he’s already ended the call.

Swearing beneath my breath, I turn my focus back to the woman walking beside me, guiding her through the door and into the house. She’s quiet, probably in shock, and doesn’t argue when I motion for her to sit down. I lock the back door—not that it’ll stop anyone coming in if they want to. The window has been destroyed. There’s glass on the floor, and my mind goes back to the other house … and another smashed window.

I put that down to one of the neighbors, but what if it wasn’t? What if it was the same person? What if they’ve been watching the entire time?

Fuck. Where the fuck are the police? They are supposed to be in place already … They were supposed to be here before we arrived.

“Zain.” I swing around at her voice. “Who was it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Who were you talking to?” She plucks at the hem of the T-shirt she’s wearing.

Fuck … that’s all she’s wearing. When she walked out of the living room, she’d been mostly naked, and her T-shirt barely covers anything. I look around. There’s nothing in here I can give her to cover herself up. I’m not even wearing a T-shirt. She took that with her when she went to the restroom.

I cross the room, drag a chair out, spin it around, and straddle the seat so I can rest my arms across the back, and look at her.

“What happened after you left the living room?”

She blinks at me.

“Ashley, I need you to focus.”

She frowns. “I-I went to the bathroom.” She waves a shaking hand toward the door which leads through to the laundry room, and beyond that a small room where there’s a toilet and sink. “I cleaned up, and then came back out. There was someone standing in the kitchen.”

“Did you see their face?”

She shakes her head. “I think I surprised them. I tried to run for the door, to come and get you, but they came after me and grabbed me. I should have shouted for you.” She pauses, frowning. “Why didn’t I just shout? They dragged me across the kitchen, and I think their elbow went through the glass when I tried to stop them from taking me outside.” Her gaze shifts over my shoulder to the back door. “Who was it? You spoke to someone on the phone.”

The doorbell sounds, saving me from replying. I hesitate before standing up.

I don’t think they’ll risk coming back. Not yet, anyway .

But I don’t like the idea of her being in here alone. “Go into the other room. Get dressed.”

The doorbell chimes again.

“I think the police are here.”

“Already?”

“As soon as I heard you scream, I called the sheriff. That’s who was on the phone.”

“Oh …” She stands carefully, her gaze dropping to the floor. Her cheeks redden.

I think she’s just realized how little she’s wearing. Reaching out, I tip her chin up with one finger. “Ashley, go and get dressed.”

She gives a small nod, and turns. I follow her out of the room and along the hallway. She turns left into the living room, and I carry on toward the front door.

Sheriff McFadden is standing outside when I open it.