Ruthless Regret (Ruthless Games Duology #2)

Chapter 57

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

ZAIN

Pain comes in waves, dragging me under and spitting me back out again. Each time I surface, the world is a blur of sounds and sensations that don't quite connect. The pain drowns everything else out until a single voice breaks through.

Ashley's voice, soft and urgent, floats somewhere above me. "Stay with me. Please stay with me."

I try to respond, but my mouth won't work.

Everything hurts. My head feels like it's been split open, and fire burns along my side where the knife went in. In my semi-conscious state, it’s like I can feel my life draining away with each beat of my heart. Each breath is a struggle, each moment filled with the fear that this might be my last.

Darkness pulls me down again.

When I surface next, it's to Rook's voice, cold and precise. "Let's try this again, Marcus. Who hired you?"

Marcus. The man has a name now.

The man who tried to kill Ashley. Who might still kill her if I die.

I try to force my eyes open, to see her, to confirm that she's safe, but my body doesn't listen. Everything feels heavy, and the pain wraps around me like a vice, keeping me pinned down.

"Go to hell." Another voice, one I don’t recognize, followed by the sound of something solid hitting flesh. A dull thud that echoes in my mind, sending another spike of pain through my head.

Hands press against my side, the pain sharp enough to drag a groan from my throat. The touch gentles immediately.

“I’m sorry.” Ashley’s voice, thick with tears. “I have to keep pressure on it.”

I can feel her trembling. She’s scared, and it’s because of me.

I hate it. I hate knowing that I couldn’t protect her, that she’s still in danger because of me.

There’s a muffled sob, and something inside me breaks at the sound. I want to tell her it’s okay, that she’s doing the right thing, but the words are locked inside me, just like everything else. I can’t move. I can barely breathe.

The darkness claims me again, and this time I fight it, desperate to stay conscious, to protect her. But I'm too weak, and it pulls me under, a black tide that won't let go.

"... watched them for weeks ..." Marcus's voice filters through when I surface again. "Learning their routines. Then that morning, he saw her at the doctor's."

"And discovered she was pregnant," another voice speaks.

Wait, was that Rook? How is Rook here?

The thought slips away before I can grasp it, lost in the fog of pain and blood loss. I can barely make sense of where I am, or what happened. Everything is fading, a dark tunnel closing in, and all I can do is hope I get to see Ashley one last time before I?—

"Changed everything. Made him snap." Another wet chuckle that makes my skin crawl. "Wasn't part of the original plan. Neither was getting rid of the knife. Had to drive three towns over to dispose of it where no one would think to look."

It’s impossible to miss the satisfaction in Marcus's tone, the sick pleasure he’s taking in this.

My mind screams questions, but my body refuses to cooperate. I’m trapped, a prisoner in my own failing body, and all I can do is listen as they unravel the truth.

"Tell us about the argument," Bishop's voice surprises me. "The day before the murders."

"He wanted her to leave with him. Thought if he could get her away from Jason, she'd be his."

"But she refused," Rook prompts, his voice tight, controlled.

"Told him she loved her boyfriend." Another laugh, this one colder, more detached. "The hit was only supposed to be Jason. But Louisa ... she got in the way. Wrong place, wrong time."

My mind screams again, but the darkness drags me down before I can voice any of the questions clawing at me.

When consciousness returns, it's to fingers combing through my hair. Ashley’s voice is soft, almost a whisper, like she’s afraid to speak too loudly, but she’s not speaking to me.

"The bleeding's slowing. But he's so pale. There's so much blood."

"Keep him still," Bishop replies.

I drift, fighting to stay present, to hear more. To understand. But everything feels so far away, like I'm hearing it through water.

"... would have been perfect," Marcus's voice cuts through next time. "The ex-con getting revenge on the woman who put him away."

Perfect? What would be perfect?

My thoughts are scattered, disconnected, but then a moment of clarity forms, the realization sharp and clear.

They were going to kill Ashley and frame me for it. They wanted it to look like I did it, like I was the monster everyone already thought I was.

"No one would have questioned it," Marcus continues, voice smug.

"Your employer thought of everything," Rook says.

"Almost everything.” Bishop adds, voice dry. “Everything except us being here."

How did they know to come?

The question burns through the fog in my brain, but darkness claims me before I can voice it, before I can make sense of any of it.

Pain drags me back, sharper this time. Everything hurts. My head. My side. Even breathing feels like knives in my chest. I can taste blood in my mouth, the metallic tang coating my tongue, making it hard to swallow.

"What about Ramsey?" Bishop asks from somewhere far away, his voice barely a murmur against the pain. "Why kill him now?"

"Had to stop him talking to Ryder. Once the case was reopened, couldn't risk Ryder finding him. Ramsey knew too much. That's why he went off-grid—knew someday someone would come asking questions."

"So you tracked him down." Rook's voice is flat.

"Wasn't hard. Even off-grid, people leave traces. Just had to make sure Ryder couldn't find those traces too."

I try to focus, to stay present, but it's like trying to hold onto smoke. The voices fade in and out, each word feeling more vital than the last.

"... watching her for days ..."

"... perfect setup ..."

"... frame the ex-con ..."

Ashley's voice cuts through it all, anchoring me, pulling me back from the edge.

"His pulse is getting weaker. Please, Zain, don't leave me." Her voice cracks on my name.

I can’t leave her. I won’t.

"Last chance, Marcus." Rook's voice turns silky, the kind of sound that promises pain. "Give us the name."

"He'll kill me if I tell you." Fear finally creeps into his voice now.

"We’ll kill you if you don't," Bishop counters, his tone almost bored. "And I promise you, our way will be much slower."

A long silence follows, broken only by the sound of harsh breathing and my own heartbeat, growing weaker with each pump. I can feel it, the way my body is failing, the way everything is slipping away. I’m losing.

"Tick tock, Marcus." The sound of a gun being cocked echoes through the kitchen, the metallic click reverberating through my skull. "Name. Now."

"Fine." Marcus's voice is resigned, the fight gone from him. "It was?—"

Darkness rushes up to claim me before I can hear the rest, dragging me down into unconsciousness. I try to fight it, to hold on for just a moment longer, but it’s too strong … and I’m too weak.