Page 31 of Redeeming Rabbit

The tech crew watched for other shit, too. Illegal drugs, sexual abuse, and theft would automatically get any recruit or member tossed out on their ass, but fist fights were a common occurrence. Havoc headed up the security team, and the big man made sure everyone knew to disengage immediately when he gave the order. Nobody wanted to be on his cranky side. Someone was always on security duty, but they roamed the buildings until they were needed. Monitoring the video feeds fell on the shoulders of the tech team.

Out of the corner of my eye, I’d been watching the bar where Elenore sat talking to Shari. If their body language was anything to go by, they were really hitting it off. But another figure had popped up on the scene. Sage. And as he approached Elenore, he showed a lot more of his teeth than was necessary. I didn’t want that nosy motherfucker anywhere near her.

“Gotta go.”

I made it almost to the door before Morse called out my name.

“Forgot to mention, I’m not the one on duty tonight. My shift ends in a couple of minutes.”

“Then who is?”

He pointed to the wall of monitors at a screen that covered the parking lot. A familiar semi-matte black Harley Softail Fat Boy Special parked. “Tap.”

I swore. Vehemently.

After his third-degree questioning when I’d left my keys in Elenore’s apartment, that bastard was the last person I wanted to see. Elenore had suffered through a stressful day, and she needed to relax. And I needed to not get thrown in jail for beating the shit out of him if he tried to get in my face about being with her. He’d see it as protecting her—which I couldn’t blame him for since I’d do the same if she hadn’t made me lose my mind—but I’d lose my shit all the same. The bottom line was that it wouldn’t end well.

“Disguise her,” Morse said. “We only watch when something catches our eye. Make her not so eye-catching.”

I stared at him, half tempted to knock the fucker out. But she was eye-catching, which meant every guy in the club would try to catch an eyeful of her. They might notdoanything, but their filthy eyes sure as hell didn’t need to be on her.

“I gotta go.”

I ran for the bar.

12

Elenore

Igaped at Rabbit’s retreating back, trying to make sense of what had just happened. He’d argued like a rabid attorney for me to skip the gym and come to his club. When we finally arrived, he’d rushed me through the entryway and to the bar, where he’d introduced me to Shari, calling her by the most inappropriate title, then sat me down on a stool and told me he’d be right back.

He disappeared around a corner, leaving me to wonder how long I could avoid the woman behind me and stare at nothing before she noticed.

She cleared her throat.

Damn. That didn’t take long. Trying not to melt into a puddle of humiliation, I spun around to face her, putting on my most apologetic smile. Shari was… wow! Shari was a stunner. Platinum blonde hair with perfectly styled beach waves, makeup done to perfection, and enormous breasts that had to be fake but made her look unattainably gorgeous. Why would Rabbit call her such a horrible name?

“Poe, is it?” she asked.

“That’s the name he gave me. I’m… so sorry about… what Rabbit just said. I’d like to say he doesn’t normally call women… whores.” My tone softened on the last word, not wanting anyone to hear us. “But honestly, I haven’t known him all that long. In fact, I’m not even sure how he convinced me to come here.”

Her expression grew concerned. “You don’t want to be here with him? Did he force you to do anything?”

Realizing where she was going with that line of questioning, I waved my hands in front of me. “No. Nooo. It was nothing like that. He’s been….” What had Rabbit told them he was doing at my house? And why was I wondering if we should have gotten our story straight? We’re both grown, consenting adults. And yes, I had been percolating the idea of fulfilling mutual sexual satisfaction with Rabbit all day. But was that really so far-fetched? Sure, he had a lot of tattoos, and it occurred to me I’d learned very little about him last night since he’d kept encouraging me to talk. He was an attentive listener and appeared genuinely interested in my safety and well-being. That already put him light years ahead of anyone on my limited list of sexual partners. If he was anywhere near as intense between the sheets as he was during every moment we were together, I was in for one incredible night.

As soon as I worked up the courage to seduce him.

I needed to figure out this flirting thing. So far, I’d been treating him like a friend. What in the hell was I supposed to do to make him want me? Scratch that. The man had stolen a picture of me in lingerie. That hadn’t shown my face. If that wasn’t a cry for sex, I didn’t know what was. But how did I show my reciprocation of his interest? I’d never really dated, and all my sexual partners had been blunt about their intentions to bed me. It was more like a contract for intercourse than any sort of romantic engagement.

I wanted something more with Rabbit and couldn’t stop wondering if he might want the same. Or maybe he felt personally responsible for the safety of every woman he knew?

But then he’d insulted this woman, and now I would have to go to bed alone.

“Oh, honey, I insisted they all call me a club whore.”

I blinked twice as my brain shut down and attempted to rewire itself. I must have misheard her. “Why on earth would you do that?” My hand had flown to my chest. Good God, was I clutching my invisible pearls? I forced my hand down.

My mother had slept around, and the small-town collective had deemed her a whore. I’d never much cared for what small-minded people talked about, so it hadn’t bothered me like it had Tina. Besides, I’d known something my big sister hadn’t. Mom had accepted payment for sex. Not exclusively—she’d also worked full-time waiting tables—but she was a single mother who did her best. I’d found out from one of her customers but never told Tina. She was already angry enough at Mom for dying.

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