Page 110 of Forbidden Confessions: Vol. 2
If I wasn’t suspicious that they had something to do with Sammie’s disappearance, sure. “Whatever you have to tell me, you can say right here.”
The tall one gets impatient, crushing my elbow with his meaty fingers. “Look, bitch?—”
“Rudy, get your hand off the lady. Sal, shut up. I’ll take it from here.”
At the sound of that familiar voice, head-to-toe chills cover me. I wanted to hear it again. I’ve needed to. Heck, I’ve ached to. But I didn’t expect to hear it here. I especially didn’t expect him to know these two thugs who might have had something to do with my cousin’s disappearance.
Gasping, I stare into the face of the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen, Ridge Garrison. I remember every minute I spent with him, every inch of his skin, every tattoo, every glance from his dark eyes, every kiss he pressed to my mouth, and every orgasm he gave me.
He looks right through me like I’m a stranger.
“Get lost, Rafael,” Shortie sneers. “We got her. And we know what to do.”
Rafael?
He raises a thick, dark brow. “I said to get your hand off her. I outrank you boys, and the boss put me in charge. Step away.”
What the hell is going on? I want to scream at Ridge. Nine weeks ago, he left my bed before I woke—without saying goodbye. He never called. He never asked about me. He just walked away like I didn’t matter at all. But instinct and this power struggle I don’t understand between him and the two thugs tell me to shut my mouth…for now.
“Paulie will hear about this,” Shortie finally snaps.
“I don’t care, Sal. Get the fuck out of my face. And if you want to keep yours looking the way it is, stay out.”
“When you least expect it, I’m going to double-tap you in the head, Harvard.”
Ridge looks unmoved by that threat. “You don’t have an army big enough for that. And the boss would rip you a new asshole. You and your lapdog go.” He gestures them away with a wave of his long, capable fingers. “Before I decide to make this ugly.”
Sal turns to the big guy with a jerk of his head. Rudy gives me one last squeeze that I know will leave bruises, then releases me with a leer that promises he’s not done touching me yet.
I shudder as they walk away, then turn back to Ridge. We’re alone now. I want answers. “What the hell is going on?”
Ridge takes my arm in his grip. “You shouldn’t be here. Turn around, march your sweet ass to the door, and get the fuck out.”
“No.”
He grits his teeth, his strong jaw working. “You need to leave. Now. Trust me.”
I barely refrain from laughing hysterically. “Why? I barely know you. And I don’t know this version of you at all, Rafael.” I flip my hand toward the thick, tamed waves of his hair, the super-sleek suit, wing-tips, and gangster attitude. “After what happened between us, I definitely don’t trust you. So I’m going to resume my search for?—”
“You’re not,” he growls as he tugs me against his body.
He’s hard—every single inch of him.
The answering chord of desire that gongs through me is a betrayal.
No. He had his chance that night with me, and he left without either a word or a backward glance. I owe him nothing now, especially not my compliance.
“You can’t stop me.”
Ridge’s black stare turns angry. “I’m fucking going to make sure you leave. You’ll thank me later.”
As if.
I dig in my heels. “Touch me again, and I will scream the roof of this place down.”
In the back of my head, I know my threat is ridiculous. I would have already done it when Sal and Rudy accosted me if I thought it would do any good. But I’m well aware that between the crowd noise, the clanging slots, and the beginning set of a nearby lounge band, that virtually no one would hear me.
The curse that falls from Ridge’s mouth is furious and ugly. It’s all I can do not to cringe.
