Page 13 of Keeping What He Wants

The storm swirling in his eyes grew darker. “I expect you to trust me, yes.”

She didn’t know if she did. She wanted to believe he was an asshole and slept around on her any time he thought about it. It went with the lifestyle. He could cheat on her. How would she really know any different? It wasn’t like she went to the club with him. She never wanted to grace the doors of that place again after all the crap she’d had to deal with in the past.

Did she believe that he kept his dick in his pants? Deep inside, she did. It didn’t comfort her though. He took too many liberties with the club life and just expected her to accept it without question. To some extent, she knew this going in. What she hated were the rules she didn’t understand. He deliberately kept her in the dark on a lot of things, and at some point she had to determine ignorance was not bliss.

It was hell.

“Not anymore.” Ella glanced away. “This behavior doesn’t make you worthy of my trust. You stay out all hours of the night. You party with those skanks. You’ve slept with half of them, if not all at some point. And you just expect me to be okay with you doing whatever the hell it is that you do—because I really don’t know—and yet I’m not allowed to go out with my non-criminal friends.”

Her anger fumed the longer she faced him. He didn’t want her to have male friends. That was not okay with her. If she was expected to trust him, then why couldn’t he trust her without throwing some paranoia in the mix about her being in danger? She lived in the fucking city. Danger was all around if you looked hard enough for it. She couldn’t be scared to live her life or forced to live it according to his standards.

“We are past me blindly trusting you in our relationship. You want me to trust you, then you need to be a little more open with what the hell it is that you do. I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know, but I’m not tolerating the double standard.”

He reached for her, and she jerked away.

“Don’t touch me.”

He dropped his arm to his side.

“I don’t want you to come near me again.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes,” she snarled. “I do.”

He tilted his head. “When you’re done fuming, we’ll see.”

“I don’t want to be anywhere near you.”

“Too bad.”

She debated how she could get past him and into her car. When she didn’t come up with a plan, she charged him and tried to tackle him. Ryker was bigger and it was a stupid idea, but she didn’t care. He locked is arms around her, holding her tight enough that she couldn’t move.

“Why are you doing this? I’m not some club whore that you can order around.”

“No, you’re not.” He squeezed her a little tighter. “You’re still not going out.”

“Why? Because you know that there are men out there that would actually treat me decent? Men my father would actually like. Those men wouldn’t stand in front of the fucking door and prevent me from going out with my friends. Yeah. The competition is fierce out there. I don’t know why I even fucking bother with you.”

“There is no competition,” he whispered in her ear. “But sweetheart, if there was, I’d win every time.”

He lifted her over his shoulder, with her kicking the whole time he carried her up the stairs to their apartment. Everything she did didn’t faze him. Once they were inside, he let her slide down his body before pulling her to him and cupping her ass. She shoved against him, turning her head as his mouth found a tender spot on her neck.

“Get off me.” Her voice was low and shaky. She didn’t quite meet his gaze. “This is not happening.”

“No?” He nibbled along her neck.

“I’m not going to tell you again, Ryker. Get off me.”

He pulled back. Instead of letting her go, he switched their positions so that she was pushed up against the door.

“You want truth? Your father asked me to help him find the scum going around killing women in town. Women fit your fucking profile. I spent all fucking night trying to use every goddamn connection I have to figure out who the hell is behind this bullshit. I got some leads, but until I know for sure, you’re not leaving my sight. I don’t give one flying fuck if you’re pissed off at me. A pissed-off Ella is better than a dead Ella, so deal with it, sweetheart.”

She swallowed hard. He crowded into her personal space. His warm breath fanned her lips as her temper simmered.

“You can’t prevent me from living my life because you’re scared.”

“Do you hear yourself? I want to wring your neck sometimes.”

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