Ruin (Rhodes #1) by Rina Kent

                             Kane’s bulky tall frame peeks from the doorway. The other tall man with Kane, Xan, is the one Aaron hit to pulp. I haven’t seen him since then.

                             Tristan finally releases my gaze and focuses on the two men. “Xan is to stay here until it’s decided otherwise. Kane is coming with me.”

                             Xan gives a curt nod, but Kane shakes his head. “That’s not possible, Your Grace. My life is at stake if I don’t follow Aaron’s orders. I already risked it by opening the door. His guest isn’t to be in anyone’s presence.”

                             Your Grace? Is he a duke?

                             Whoa. I’m not into aristocracy or anything but a duke is big. Like right after the royal family big.

                             “Is that so?” Tristan throws a glance my way, arching an eyebrow, before he goes back to Kane. “Very well, both of you will remain in the West Wing.”

                             Why are they talking nonsense? Why aren’t they taking me to Aaron? Did his family members and staff drink from the same unemotional fountain?

                             When I’m about to scream at them, they turn to leave. I follow them before Tristan twirls towards me with an unintelligible expression. “Where do you think you are going?”

                             “With you.” He says nothing so I continue, “You said you would take me to Aaron if I told you who am I.”

                             “No, I did not.”

                             “Yes, you did!” I stomp my foot in the ground.

                             “I said I could change my mind.” His expression remains motionless. “It turns out I did not.”

                             Did he just manipulate me? The bastard! He’s indeed Aaron’s brother.

                             Tristan’s dreaming if he thinks he can stop me, though. Not even his psycho brother could. I open my mouth to retort when Kane picks up his phone. He listens, brows knitting together. This must be the first show of emotion I’ve ever witnessed on his usually expressionless face.

                             When he hangs up, his voice’s modulated, but a hint of urgency cloaks his words. “Aaron is in a critical condition. He lost a lot of blood and there is a shortage of his type.”

                             The three men keep talking. They throw and receive orders and affirmations, but their words don’t reach me.

                             The fragment of hope crushes to tiny bloody pieces.

                             I don’t know how my surroundings quieted or how I ended up kneeling on the floor. All I have left is putting my hands together and closing my eyes.

                             God, please save him.





                             Chapter Twenty-One

                             Tristan



                             White saturates the surrounding walls, trapping me in the midst of endless beeping machines. The detergents’ smell clogs my nostrils.

                             I always hated hospitals.