Page 8 of Ruthless

Chapter 4

Ginger

Present

My gaze darted to the back door of the bar. Could I make it? The urge to flee was surging through my body, but I was still frozen in place. So many thoughts flashed through my mind as I tried to come up with a rational excuse for why Rebel was there, leaving me with a sick feeling in my belly. I couldn't fight him and win, I knew I couldn't, yet when he finally took that last step into the light and I saw the gleam in his eyes, I knew that I would have to try. I wouldn't go back. He'd have to kill me first.

Our eyes locked. I couldn't read anything from his expression. As hopelessness overwhelmed me I made a mad dash for the door. He caught me, as I’d known he would. I was able to let out a scream before he slapped a hand over my mouth, and then he was dragging me back into the shadows with him. I struggled against him with the fear of an animal that was trapped with nowhere to go.

"Ssshhh!" he shushed me in my ear, the powerful arms surrounding me like an inescapable vice. "I'm not going to hurt you, angel."

"I'm not going back with you!" I hated the fear in my voice, I hated giving him that. With his powerful arms locked around me he easily kept me subdued.

He grunted when one of my elbows jabbed him in the ribs. "I've been looking for you for four years."

Oh, God! I closed my eyes, trembling at the soft words he'd uttered into my ear, the warmth and solidness of his hard body seeping into me. Infuriatingly, I was reminded of the way he'd made me feel all those years ago, and how quickly he'd turned an innocent girl into a wild and wanton whore. He'd had that powerful effect on me. No other man ever had. I'd been helpless against his experience, and he'd known exactly how to play my body.

"I mean it, Rebel." I’d never thought that I would see him again, and his name sounded strange on my lips. "You'll have to kill me before I let you drag me back to the Red Devils!" I dug my nails into his arms, hoping that he would release me, but all he did was grunt and tighten his arms around me until I could barely breathe. When I threw my head back he snarled, spun me around, and grabbed me by the hair, walking me backwards to the side of the building, where he crushed me with his much larger body.

"Did you forget that I was the one who got you out of there? I didn't come here to take you back," he rasped, pinning me easily. "Now stop!"

I remembered that, but why was he here then? His sudden appearance rendered me unable to think clearly. "I don't believe you!" I whispered, my panic growing as everything I'd been forced to go through at the Red Devils’ clubhouse came back to me full force. "You're one of them!"

"I was never one of them," he said roughly. "Why do you think I helped you escape?"

He had helped me escape. He'd snuck me out of the Red Devils' clubhouse and taken me to his place, telling me to wait for his return. I would have followed his instructions if some of the Red Devils hadn't shown up. I'd been forced to sneak out of a back window and run. I'd gone straight to the bus station.

But that was then, and this was now, and I was convinced that he was here to take me back. "Then why have you come for me if not to bring me back to Wildman?"

"There is no more Wildman, or the Red Devils," he gritted out, trapping my legs between his when I made an attempt to raise my knee. "Wildman's dead, and so is his club."

Dead? I slowly ceased my struggles as I took that in. Was this a trick, or had the rumors that I'd heard actually been true? Had I been running from them all this time for nothing? I wanted to believe Rebel, I wanted to believe that I didn't need to look over my shoulder anymore, that I didn't need to keep running. "How . . . why . . . " I couldn't seem to form a coherent sentence.

He laughed at my expense, but I was more concerned about why he was there. Suddenly it occurred to me that he was probably looking for the money I'd stolen. I'd found it as I’d snooped around his apartment, and had left it alone at first, until the Red Devils had shown up. Then I'd needed it to get away. "You're here for the money I borrowed." I let myself relax against him. It couldn't be for anything else.

He snorted. "Yeah, borrowed." There was a slight pause before he murmured, "Among other things."

I wondered what those “other things” could be before I shifted my thoughts back to the money that I owed Rebel. The money that I'd been squirreling away since I’d made my escape was only about half of the four thousand that I'd taken.

After a few minutes of silence I began to notice things about him that seemed way too intimate in the moment--the feel of his warm, whiskey-scented breath against my face; the scent of leather and smoke that clung to his large and threatening body, mixed with something else, something that was all Rebel, his personal essence and my personal drug.

Four years hadn't done anything to diminish his appeal to me.

I closed my eyes, thankful that he couldn't see me clearly. I had to get a grip and ignore how easily he had made me want him again. All those years ago, when he'd been forced to take my virginity, it had been too easy for Rebel. I'd barely put up a resistance when he'd seduced me with his experience and the unspoken promise that he wouldn't hurt me. I'd lost myself to him the instant that he'd put his rough hands on me.

"I don't have all of your money," I finally said, deciding to be honest with him.

"We can talk about that later. Is this where you work?"

"Yes."

"What time do you get off?"

"As soon as I'm done cleaning up."

"Do you have a way home?"

I shook my head. "No."

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