Forbidden (Blood Ties #7)

“We just don’t,” Kane urged. “We’ve had no response for over five years. That’s a long time, Riven. A long time.”

“I won’t give up on her.”

“No one’s asking you to. But we need to be realistic here.”

Beep.

The microwave beeped, pulling me back into reality. “The reality is this.Sheis our sister.Sheis our blood. If Hale still has her, then I will find her and save her, with or without your help. If this is too much for you, brother, then say now. No hard feelings.”

He gave a hard bark of laughter. “Riven,everythingabout you is a hard feeling. There isn’t a damn soft spot in your entire existence. I doubt you even know what being soft means.”

“It’s kept us alive, hasn’t it?”

“Yes…yes, it has.”

I stabbed the button, pulled out the now defrosted steak, and grabbed the skillet from the hook overhead, placing it on the stove. “Then we stick with the plan,” I replied, turning on the heat and moving to the cupboard to grab the olive oil. “We keep going until we get confirmation either way.”

“Then we pull the pin.”

I lifted my gaze. “We pull the pin…and watch the entire fucking thing explode.”

“And finally, bring our brother home.”

Our brother.

That ache in my chest moved deeper. “Yes. But for now, leave him out there. He’s better in the dark.”

“Will do, and Riven.”

“Yeah?”

“We couldn’t do this without you.”

My breath caught in the back of my throat. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even breathe. Instead, I forced that torment all the way down, back into the abyss. When I spoke, my voice was cold and steady. “I’ll contact you with further information.”

“Until then.”

I lowered my hand, pressed the button, and ended the call. My pulse was booming, carried away by my brother’s words. I forced myself to focus on the steaks, swirling the oil in the skillet before I placed them down on the heat. This is what I needed. Focus. Tasks. And a plan that would pull this all back together.

I took my time, cooking the steaks to perfection and sliced tomatoes and hard cheese, laying them expertly on both plates, then froze.

What was I doing?

Feeding her. That’s what.

I was feeding the woman I’d abducted, assaulted, and allowed to hear my fucking name. Because…because she had to eat. I wiped the edge of the plate and looked down. The meat was sliced to perfection, worthy of a five-star restaurant. I grabbed a set of utensils and buffed the fork before I took the plate and a bottle of water from the refrigerator and headed for the bedroom.

The moment I saw her, that compulsion roared to the surface. She sat exactly where I’d left her. Her knees bent, her hands still cuffed. There was a flicker of satisfaction as I neared, watching her flinch and placed the plate on the end of the bed before I uncuffed her.

“Eat.” I commanded, giving a jerk of my head toward the food.

She jerked that smoldering stare my way, took one look at the plate, and turned away. “I don’t eat meat.”

The smugness died. “What?”

She looked my way.“I…don’t eat meat.”

Motherfucker.