Page 15 of Absolution

“Ratchet,” I squeak, staring in disbelief that he is even here. The sound of blood rushing through my body fills my ears, deafening me, until I get my nerves under control. My biggest regret that I left behind in California is here, looking like he wants to devour me whole.

“Siren,” he coolly responds, stepping into the light radiating from the bar windows.

My heart races like a runaway train, about to derail, as reality sets in that he’s really here in front of me. This isn’t a dream or a hallucination. He stands before me, and I honestly have no idea what to do. Do I run? Do I jump in his arms? Do I do both at the same time? Indecision and excitement battle inside me, freezing me in place. How could one man have so much hold on me?

That question was easy enough to ask, but our past was as complicated as our present state of affairs. He was the man that didn’t even realize how much I cared about him, before he left. He held the keys to my heart, and never cared to even use them. I wanted to be his, but that was just a broken dream left behind in California.

He’s the kind of man who drives a woman crazy from trying to figure out the way his brain ticks. Just like now, my heart and my mind are at war whether or not to be angry or ecstatic to see him again, like two families facing each other on the battlefield. Neither side will win the war without losing something in return.

The panic attack from my boss, Willie, trying to comfort me doesn’t even compare to the cyclone of emotions coiling inside of my body. Part of me is jumping for joy inside knowing that he tracked me down, but the dark side of my mind is filling my head with doubt and suspicion.

He’s here to take you back to work off your debts to the club.

You don’t know his intentions or his reasons.

He’s here to kill you for betraying him and just leaving.

Give him the benefit of the doubt. He’d never do that to me.

You’re naïve enough to believe that night meant something to him.

Stop listening to the devil on your shoulder for once.

Listening to me is the only way you’ll survive.

My eyes stay trained on him as he shifts closer to me. Each step he takes, a warmth flows over my body in response to his being so near. It isn’t until he’s face to face with me, that I can finally break free of my stunned muteness. His massive body shrouds mine like a child compared to a full-grown adult. He’s always been bigger than me, but now I can feel every inch he has on me. It’s nerve-wrecking and exhilarating all at the same time. His expansive chest has grown since the last time I saw him, and his defined arms look like sculpted cords of smooth marble. If I had to bet, the gym had become his new best friend in my absence. While I’ve never known him to have a full beard, his chin sports a thicker than normal layer of hair. His dark hair is cut close to his scalp, but it’s his eyes that freeze me into place. Their dark, brown hues bore into my soul with every passing second, and right now, they are trained on me.

Fucking asshole. I leave him and he gets even better looking. You have to resist him, Ricca. This isn’t the time or place for this.

“Why are you here?” I blurt out not knowing what else to say to him.

Smooth, Ricca. It’s been months since you’ve seen the man, and you’re acting like a fucking teenage girl talking to her first crush. Dismiss him. Don’t encourage him with showing weakness. You’re not a wounded deer for Christ’s sake.

“I’m here for you,” he intently declares. His hands start to move toward me, but I recoil, trying to keep the distance between us. I waver as my body tries to force me to move closer to him, and he catches it. After everything that has happened, my body still betrays me. Ratchet takes his chance, and moves closer. This is becoming a slow-motion version of a prey and predator dance, before the predator charges in for the kill.

I try to step away from him, but my back lands against the wall. Ratchet moves to catch me as I fall backward, but I shirk away from his touch again. My eyes widen as I see his flinch, from my rejection.

“Please stop,” I protest his closeness. “Please, Ratchet. Not so close.”

“Siren, I-,” he starts, before I bring my hand between us, stopping the conversation from where I think it’s going. I can’t hear this right now. I have a purpose for being here, and not even he can distract me. My focus needs to be on Asher, and Ratchet being here will only complicate things even more.

“You can’t be here, Ratchet. You aren’t supposed to be here,” I stammer out, knowing that I sound so fucking stupid repeating myself. It’s as if my mouth and brain are refusing to work together to make a coherent argument out of shock. If I could mentally face palm myself, I would have already done it.

Ratchet cocks an eyebrow and in a flash, slaps one of his hands next to my head on the brick wall. The impact sucks all of the breath out of my lungs, making me yelp. I know this wasn’t a move on his part to hurt me. He’s not the kind of man who would ever lay a hand on a woman. It was a move to garner my full attention, and nothing more. An alpha male shock and awe campaign to stun me into submission. Too bad for him his presence alone took care of that for him.

“Not a good time, Siren?” he quips with a hint of annoyance in his words. “When would have been a good time? Would that have been before or after I came back from handling club business to find you fucking vanished from the clubhouse? No note. Not a fucking clue as to why you left. Just gone.”

I try to dodge away from him, but he presses his chest into mine, trapping me where I stand. My erect nipples graze against his chest, and I shiver from the contact. He smirks when he notices. The fucker knows my body is reacting to him being here, and he is playing it to his advantage. Of all the people who know how to play dirty, Ratchet is the master, and I am his willing puppet.

“I left?” I argue. “I wasn’t the first person to leave. That was you.”

“Jesus, Ricca. Is that what you think I did? That I left you,” he hisses. “I had club business, and I thought you understood that comes first. It will always come first.”

His hot breath trails down my neck as his lips move closer and nearly brush mine.

“I don’t give a shit about your club business. You had your chance, and you blew it. Now, leave,” I demand, standing my ground. My posture goes rigid.

“Nice try, Siren. This whole posturing up to seem big and bad doesn’t suit you,” he says, looking me up and down. “You forgot I know who you are, what your tricks are, and how your mind thinks. I know you better than you know yourself, and right now, you’re scared.”

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