Page 60 of His Loyal Rebel

She needed to sleep but couldn't force herself to go sit in her car. The surge of excess energy after her fight at the clubhouse with Whip left her antsy.

Enough time had passed since the last time she had to seek a motel room, she thought there would be a vacancy at one of them. At Motel 6, she'd concluded the manager had available rooms but refused to let her pay for one in the middle of the night.

Picking up the matchbook again, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Slow and steady.

She opened her eyes and ripped off a match. Her hand shook. Why had Whip lied? Out of everyone who could hurt her, why him?

With everything they'd shared, she assumed he'd be honest with her. Tears clouded her vision. Whip had made her want to take a chance on love, to trust what her heart was telling her. To believe that someone wanted her—faults and all.

The rumble of a motorcycle dried her tears. Hugging her middle, she stayed kneeled on the ground as the rider approached.

Deep down, she knew Whip would show up. He wasn't a man who would lose an argument.

She was done fighting.

Whatever excuse he had no longer mattered.

She'd said her peace.

A lone headlight in the distance hardened her resolve. Whip's lack of respect for her cut any ties to him. She'd wanted to stay with him because she was falling in love.

But, he'd never know that.

She looked away from the bright light. He certainly wasted no time. She'd only stopped driving around and parked ten minutes ago.

Rubbing her bare arms, she thought about running to the car and locking herself inside to avoid more of Whip's lies.

They weren't even good lies. They were lies that were told without any thought of what he was doing to her. That's what hurt.

She thought he cared about her. Truly cared.

He stopped the motorcycle close to her. She shielded her eyes, and he shut off the headlight, blinding her to the darkness.

"Whatever you have to say, I don't want to hear it," she said.

"I think you do."

She scrambled to her feet at the voice, knowing it wasn't Whip but Big. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to get what's mine."

The crunch of dried pinecones and needles under his boots sent a chill up her spine. She moved sideways toward her car.

"I'm not yours." She swallowed. "I never was, and you know that. You have lots of other women in your life. Go bother one of them."

He grabbed her arm. She swung out, trying to dislodge him and her knuckles scraped the chain that hung from his vest.

Pain radiated through her hand. She groaned, stopping her struggle.

"I don't want you, bitch." He pulled her to her tiptoes. "I want my pistol."

She recoiled with a snarl. One hit to her self-esteem after another today, she regretted running out of the Tarkio clubhouse without planning ahead. If she'd known Big would seek her out as soon as she was away from Whip, she would've left the stupid gun behind at the clubhouse. Big could go to Tarkio and ask for it back. That would make Whip happy, and Big would leave her alone.

Big's body stiffened, and his hand tightened on her arm. Only then had the roar of a motorcycle broke through her frustration.

"Are you expecting your new boyfriend?" asked Big.

She pressed her shoulders back and looked up in his face, barely making out the whites of his eyes. Through Whip's lies and manipulation, had he spoke the truth about Cusclan wanting to hurt her?

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