Page 36 of Ruthless

I ignored Ginger too.

"You show respect, asshole." I grated the words into his face. "You got me?" I waited for his nod of understanding and released him.

He straightened his shirt and looked at Ginger sheepishly. "Sorry, Gin, I, ah, guess I got carried away." His lackluster apology was weak but I let it slide.

Ginger didn't acknowledge him in any way. Finally, Daryl appealed to Della, who'd been standing by, shocked, as if she'd never seen someone stand up to her boyfriend like that before. "Can I talk to you?" It was obvious that he was making an attempt to control himself. He glanced back at me before continuing, "Privately?"

I crossed my arms and planted my feet to show Della that I wasn't going anywhere. Whether or not she liked the show of support I had no idea, but there was no way that I was going to leave her or Ginger there alone with the asshole. My gut told me that he was unstable, and that there was an underlining violence beneath the surface of his shaky veneer. The slightest softening of Della’s expression told me a lot.

"Sure," she said after a moment. She took Daryl by the hand. "Let's go to my bedroom."

I waited until I heard the click of her door before pinning my gaze on Ginger. "He's using."

Her eyes widened slightly, as if she were surprised that I'd guessed that all ready. "We're not sure what or for how long, but he's changed the last couple of months. I've tried to talk some sense into Della, I’ve told her to get rid of him, but they've been together a long time."

"Old habits are hard to break." She nodded. "Is he abusive?"

"Not to my knowledge. I mean, Della's never had any bruises or anything, and she would tell me if he was knocking her around."

"You sure about that?"

The look on her face said that it hadn't occurred to her before then. "We're best friends, Rebel, we tell each other everything."

I smirked at that. "Did you tell her about us?"

"There is no us!" she hissed.

My brows shot up at that. "Who was that sexy little number I just got done fucking in the shower?"

She pressed her lips, and I could see that she was struggling with what to say. It only made me grin wider.

"I hate you!" she hissed.

I laughed. "Want me to prove you wrong?" She looked positively frightened at that prospect.

Before she could respond, the voices in the bedroom grew louder, loud enough that it became obvious that the conversation between Della and Daryl was about money, and that it was increasing in intensity. I could see the worry in Ginger's eyes as we both glanced in the direction of the door. My instinct was to intervene, but I reminded myself that it wasn't my business, as long as Daryl kept his hands off Della. If he put his hands on her in a violent way, then all bets were off.

I'd seen enough violence towards women during my time with the Red Devils. It had taken everything in me not to get involved. That's why when Ginger had been thrown at me, I'd done everything that I could to protect her from the others, even if I hadn't been able to protect her from myself. There was no way that I could make up to her what she'd gone through at my hands, and that was like acid eating away in my gut.

The pizza delivery guy showed up, reminding us that Della's entrance door was still open. He began knocking at Ginger's closed door. "Pizza delivery!"

"We'll be over as soon as Daryl is gone," Ginger said to me, noticing him.

I hesitated, listening to the sound of arguing that was still going on in the bedroom. It was obvious that whatever was happening in there was escalating. "Baby, there's no way I'm leaving you here with that asshole in there." I pulled some cash out of my pocket and stepped out to deal with the delivery guy. He took the cash and I took the pizzas, taking them into Della's apartment and setting them on the kitchen counter.

The door flew opened to Della's bedroom and Daryl came rushing out, red-faced and swearing beneath his breath. He avoided making eye contact with anyone and booked it for the open front door in an angry rush. Ginger and I exchanged a look before she took off in the direction of the bedroom, but Della emerged before she made it. The woman looked flustered and royally pissed.

She smiled in the face of Ginger's concern. "Well, four years down the drain, but it was long overdue. Once they start asking you for money . . . "She didn't finish the rest of her sentence, but it was easy to fill in the blanks. In spite of the four years gone, she didn't look all that broken up about the breakup. "Been down that fucking road before."

"Good riddance," Ginger remarked with a smirk.

A snort escaped Della. "I know, honey. You never really liked Daryl. He wasn't always a looser, though, you know? But the drugs . . . "She looked my way and smiled. "Why can't I meet someone like you?"

I laughed. "What makes you think I'm a good man?"

She giggled, her gaze darting to Ginger and then to me again. "A woman can tell." Her lips quirked downward at the corners. "Usually." She winked. "And from what Ginger told me about your shared past, you treated her right."

"Did she now?" I rested my gaze on Ginger, wondering if she really felt that way, knowing that if I'd treated her right I would have told her about the money. Thirty grand had gone missing, but I'd always known that she hadn't been the one who’d taken it. I'd had several stashes of money hidden throughout my place, hoping to throw off anyone who searched my apartment into thinking that if they found one stash that was all there was. It had worked, because whoever had taken the thirty thousand hadn't found the rest.

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