Page 68 of Biker's Prisoner: Property of Bucky

The more Ihurt people for her. The more I spend time with Zayna in my bed. The more I watch her hold and care for Eden, I want to have her forever. I can’t imagine my life without her – and I don’t want to. I’ve already lost so much. My fucking mom was a piece of shit. The only dad I ever knew died. Doc is dead.

And his sonshave never quite liked me. I never quite fit in. But with Zayna, I think if we do this together, if we know that it’s just her and me, we’ll have a proper, normal family. That might make fitting in a little easier. Plus, it’s just what I always wanted and never thought I could have.

It’s onlypossible if she says ‘yes’... and I don’t think she will.

Chapter Thirty-One

Zayna

Two Weeks Later

Ruger’s Cabin

Something is wrong with Ruger. The more we sleep together, the harder it gets for him to hide his feelings from me, and he hates it. Ever since we got Eden back from Gideon and Tamiya, then arrived back at the cabin from Boston, he has barely said a word to me. He’s said more to Zeus than he’s said to me.

For two weeks. How can he possibly think I won’t notice that? He hasn’t kept his hands off me in the bedroom, but when I try to talk, he either eats me out or asks me to cuddle. How can I stay focused when he has all the perfect weapons to manipulate me to his dark will…

But Iknow himand tonight, after I put Eden down to bed and get Zeus curled up in his dog bed with his cow knuckle, I’ll confront him. I’ll use a knife if I have to do it. He hasn’t brought up killing Grant, which doesn’t surprise me because he didn’t go to college. I don’t have a clue where he is, but I suspect Ruger does.

He can’t expect me to live with him forever and always keep his emotions up behind a wall. Our mothers and grandmothers put up with mean ass men who did just that – hid from every feeling that crossed their hearts – and they most certainly don’t want our generation to put up with the same thing. If Ruger wants me to stay with him peacefully, he’ll have to learn.

I have weapons of my own. Closing my legs… for example. It’s hard to say ‘no’ to his tongue, but I can doall thingsthrough… Actually, that might not be exactly what Christ is strengthening me for. But I can at least strengthen myself. I can focus on his problematic and racist behaviors instead of his body.

Because that worked so well the first time, Zayna…

He stormsin from wherever the hell he goes every day, visibly fuming just like I expected. He slams his helmet on the counter, grabs a beer from the fridge and disappears into the bedroom – slamming the door. Um… Hello? Eden is sleeping, first of all, so I don’t need him slamming shit all over the place.

Plus, I cooked dinner for this ungrateful man and he can most certainly smell it. I can’t let this slide. Not when I replicated the beef stew flavor concept Ruger muttered into my ear before bed last night exactly to his specifications. I didnotchop all that celery to receive this disrespect. I pull the largest knife I can find out of the drawer and storm over to the bedroom.

He locked it.

Ruger hasneverlockeda door on me. I pound on the wooden door with my fists.

“I’m busy.”

The audacity.

“Ruger, get out here. I cooked dinner.”

No response.I start pounding out a beat on the door, getting really annoying like my high school students would when I needed them to quiet down. Ruger flings the door open, but he doesn’t look angry. He looks…sad.

“What do you want, Zayna?” he asks in the most defeated voice.

“I want your stubborn ass to get out here and eat some dinner.”

I’ve never seenRuger looking like this and it scares the crap out of me. His other emotions I understand. But sadness… that one is new.

He frowns a little and touches my lower lip. “I’ll come eat.”

Then he kisses me. If I didn’t know better, I would say that Ruger is trying to break up with me or something. I know his ass doesn’t plan on doing thatnow. I got a tattoo for this man. We promised each other…

The man is more handsome than he deserves to be. He has rippling muscles everywhere. Ruger’s arms are my favorite. They’re big. Long. They feel so protective wrapped around me. His lips are undeniably perfect. Visually, they don’t seem particularly impressive. They’re nice, but normal. They feel entirely different. Ruger’s lips know exactly how to touch my skin. What I feel with him is nothing short of perfect bliss. I’ve never felt like this with anyone else.

Everything I feel with Ruger is undeniably wrong. I knew exactly who he was from the moment I met him. He wore his demons right there out in the open for everyone to see with those damn bloody hands. I want to keep pushing him for answers.

Ruger's silent rage makes me far more uneasy than any outburst he might be capable of. I can feel the anger pulsing off him. His body is tense when he sits and he can't help but cast a painfully cruel sidelong glance in my direction. What the hell is his problem?

Is this why he's been quiet about the Grant situation for two weeks? Whatever the hell is going on in his crazy ass head?

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