Page 9 of Ruthless

"Good. I'll wait for you here and take you home." He released a tired breath. "I need a place to crash and get some sleep."

I stiffened, realizing that he intended to go home with me. "What about my boyfriend?" I didn't have a boyfriend, but I didn't want Rebel to think that he could just come into my life and take over. I wasn't ready to trust him.

"You don't have a boyfriend," he said, surprising me. "If you did he'd be here to pick you up." I could detect the mild amusement in his tone. "Now go inside and finish up so we can get the hell out of here."

I resisted his attempt to pull me away from the wall, tugging back. "You can't just show up after four years and start ordering me around. We're nothing to each other." I may have been a frightened virgin when we’d met, but the last few years had taught me how to stand up and fight for myself. "I'm not afraid of you, Rebel."

His gruff laugh sent chills down my spine. "I can see that."

"And I don't want anything to do with you." That was a lie, but a necessary one. How many times had I found myself yearning to see him? To be with him again?

"Are you forgetting about the money you took?"

God, I had! "I only have half right now." I'd always known that there was a possibility that he would come after me for the money, but as more time had gone by, I'd convinced myself that he was either dead or he just didn't care. I was relieved that he was still alive, but it meant that he was going to take every penny that I'd managed to put away for an emergency.

"That's too bad, I want it all."

"You'll have to give me time?"

"So you can run away again? I don't think so. I think I'm going to stay right here, with you, until you pay me back."

I held my breath, afraid that he was serious. Running away from him hadn't even entered my mind, it wasn’t why I'd run the first time. If what Rebel had said was true about Wildman, than I could finally put down roots and have a halfway normal life.

Maybe I could go back to school…

"Look--" He pulled me away from the wall and led me to the back door. "It's too late to get into everything right now, and I'm too fucking tired. You look like you're about to drop. So go do what you need to do so we can get the hell out of here."

The light was better at the back door, allowing me the opportunity to see how exhausted Rebel appeared. It matched the weariness in his voice. He looked as if he'd been on the road for a while, his clothes showed signs of road sludge and other unidentifiable stains, and he looked haggard. Yet none of it took away from his rugged handsomeness, the square cut of his strong jaw and the sensual softness of his lips that had captivated me from the beginning. He exuded outlaw danger, and instilled fear in me because I knew what he was capable of.

His hair was longer than I’d remembered, brushing against his shoulders, and there was a scar across his cheek that he hadn't had before, but it was the vivid blue of his eyes that had haunted me over the years. Right now they were focused on me in a hard, unyielding stare of determination. Without another word, he opened the door and ushered me inside.

I paused just inside the doorway and took a deep breath. Rebel was right. I was ready to drop and I was too tired to try and figure anything out.

"Is Della okay?" Lola asked, meeting my gaze as I walked further into the bar.

"Poor thing was retching before we got to her car," I said, picking up the rag that I'd been using to wipe down tables. "Whatever she has came on fast."

"Some illnesses are like that," she said as if she were an expert. "I'm done and heading out.” She came to a jerking halt and gave me a thoughtful look. "Do you have a ride home?"

I thought about Rebel and nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. See you tomorrow."

She rolled her eyes. "Thank God Bike Week is almost over! My feet are numb!"

I could relate. Tomorrow was the last day. Vinny would close the bar on Monday so we could recoup from the killer week. After that, we'd all be back on our regular shifts and days off. Thank God! I returned to the table Della and I had been in the process of cleaning when she’d gotten sick and went back to wiping it down. I hoped that she’d made it home okay.

"Where'd Della go?" Vinny hollered across the room, stepping back out from his office.

"She got sick." I began lifting the chairs and turning them over on top of the table.

"Sick?" he scoffed. "She’d better feel better by two o'clock tomorrow and have her ass here." I rolled my eyes and decided that it would take too much effort to respond to his insensitive remark. It wasn't like him. The long hours were obviously getting to him, too. "What time did she leave? I need to mark it down, because I'm not paying her for the whole hour."

I slammed the last chair down and glared at him. He was behind the bar with Stevie, pulling the money out of the register.

I couldn't help it, I lost my temper. "Are you kidding me? We've been working our asses off all week with no time off and barely a break, and you're going to dock her for half an hour?" I looked at Stevie. "Is he for real?"

She shook her head. "Sad but true." She didn't agree with his comment either, that was clear from the twist of her lips.

Vinny finally glanced up from the register, taking in our disgusted expressions. "What?"

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