by Ryan Michele
The ways he looked at me in my car. His pointed, no-holds-barred words. His body language and the way he held back from touching me when I knew he wanted to. He’ll be a diversion I don’t need right now. My mission isn’t Ryker. It’s JK.
I sit up, needing to get my mind off Ryker, and flip open the laptop. I click on a file, and my stomach bottoms out.
Pictures of the compound I was held in and hurt pop up. JK’s smiling face is in several of them. My gut squeezes so tightly vomit threatens to come out.
My eyesight is hazy, like there is a fog over it. I’m unable to see ten feet in front of me, though sounds of movement are all around me, along with murmurs from a stern voice.
That voice.
I remember it.
I hear it in my nightmares. The ones that were only tamed when Deke stayed at my house.
I desperately have to get out of here, far away from him. However, my arms feel like hundred-pound weights, yet light at the same time. I go to move them, but they don’t budge. It’s the same story with my legs and torso.
Blinking, I try to make sense of where I am and what exactly is going on.
When I left my apartment, I looked everywhere around me before exiting. I didn’t expect a Taser to come shooting from a distance and knock me on my ass. He injected me with something, probably the same thing as last time, the same thing that made my limbs go weak, then my mind.
Last time …
Panic fills me at just the thought, as the memories bombard me, ones I want to forget and move past.
This doesn’t bode well for me. I barely got away before. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to stand on my own two feet again. This time will be worse. I know it.
He’s evil. Beyond evil.
Cooper told me to get right to the clubhouse. He warned me the brothers would notice if I’m not there. They have to because, for once, no amount of the brute force my mother taught me is going to help. Not when my body is uncontrollable, and my brain is as high as a kite.
My head jerks from a powerful force, maybe a hand. There are no cries or tears. I don’t feel the pain, only a slight sting and the movement. The drugs must be more powerful than before, because I felt everything last time. Remember everything. The brutality, the tearing, the burning—everything.
“You fucking little cunt. Get rid of my baby, now I get rid of you.”
Fear slices through me. I try to move my arms and legs, but it’s no use.
He pulls my hair so hard my neck angles down in an unnatural way. Again, no pain, only pressure.
“Know it was mine. The other three, I made them use condoms. Not me. When I pushed through that virgin barrier, I wanted you filled with only me. Wanted you to remember who you belonged to. Then I find out you killed my baby!” The pressure becomes more. Now I do cry out. “Had my guys track you and found you after you murdered my baby! Bitch, you’re going to pay … in every fucking way possible.”
Bile rises up my throat, burning as I try to push it down. This man hurt me in more ways than just physical, and I hate him. Hate what he and his men did to me. I can still feel the pain of when he took me. Can still feel the guys holding me down by my arms and legs while I screamed out, trying to fight back. Every damn detail of what he did to me is etched on my soul for eternity.
My baby. I fight back the tears at thinking of the life that grew inside me for such a short time.
Pain spears through my heart. The emptiness I feel in my stomach grows.
Innocent. I can’t fight the tears as one falls out of the corner of my eye and rolls down my cheek.
A sharp pain comes to my side, and then wetness falls from my body.
“Shouldn’t have given you so much. Want you to feel this.”
“Please don’t, JK,” I whisper, just as another slice of pain comes. Then another. And another.
It would be better if I were dead.
I’m not dead, and now I’m coming for him. Come hell or high water, he’s going out.
Chapter Eight
One.
My arms strain as I pull my weight up until my chin touches the bar, then I let my body fall back down.
Two.
Repeat. Up, knees bent and ankles crossed. Down.
Three.
Over and over.
The repetitions continue, sweat pouring from my face, down my chest, and to the floor below me. Regulating my breathing, I work to fight the quivering now coming from my muscles that want me to stop, urging me to take a break.
There is no break. There is no stopping, not until I feel I’ve had enough.
My body can handle more, so I push, moving on to crunches, then twisting my body, my abs feeling each movement.
“Austyn,” Charlie calls from the mat in front of me.
Charlie’s an older man, but I bet he could still kick my ass if he wanted to. The man has moves. I’ve seen him in the ring before, sparring. He’s owned this gym for as long as I can remember and takes a special interest in those who visit his establishment. Good for him, not so good when you don’t want to talk, just workout until your body can’t anymore.
I should’ve gone to the clubhouse and worked out where my mom taught me years ago, but I needed different scenery. This is what I get for that.
When my feet hit the mat, I rub my hands down my short spandex workout shorts. They are red hot and more than likely have a few blisters. It’s always the sign I’ve done my work here.
“Charlie.”
“Good to see ya here.” He smiles as I walk over, grab my towel, and wipe the sweat off my face and neck.
“Nice change of pace.”
His face grows serious. I know what’s coming. Even though I hate it, I refuse to be a bitch to him.
“How ya holdin’ up?” And boom.
Placing the towel around my neck, I tell him, “Good. Every day’s getting better.”
“You need anything, you let me know.”
I must admit, I’m surprised that he dropped it so quickly. Most people would go in for the kill when they have me to themselves. Not Charlie. I respect that.
“Will do.” It’s time to get the hell out of here.
Walking out of the gym, I’m alert as I take in my surroundings just to be safe. What I’m not expecting to find is Ryker standing against the door of my car, arms and ankles crossed in front of him, sexy as hell, with his eyes on me.
Hiking my workout bag up my shoulder, I make my way toward him.
“What do I owe this honor?” I tease to lighten the mood. Considering our car conversation and him wanting to be friends, this is how I decided to play it when we saw each other again. I’d be me, but a knowing me. A controlled me. A me who won’t let her feelings get involved in any way, shape, or form. A me who has her eye on the prize.
He shrugs. “I got the short straw.”
“Huh?” I have no idea what he’s talking about.
“Bodyguard duty. But then Cruz told me it was your body I was guarding, and I was all over it.” His eyes grow dark with desire in a way I used to dream about. “The straw suddenly didn’t seem so short.”
While I do like that I have the joking, teasing Ryker back, what he says doesn’t make me happy.
I stand in front of him, wanting to roll my eyes but refrain. “Bet you say that to all the girls.”
Ryker shifts, standing to his full height, which luckily blocks the sunlight from my eyes, but unluckily makes me have to look up at him. His glasses shine in the sunlight while his muscled, tattooed arms bulge out of his black T-shirt. His jeans fit him as if they were custom-made, hanging low on his hips. All of it is hot. Too hot. Shit.
“What the hell is bodyguard duty?”
“You and me, we’re a team now.”
I blink rapidly as my chest constricts, trying to process what he’s saying. No, this wasn’t part of the deal. Ryker can’t follow me around all the time. That’ll be the same as if I lived at home, which is why I left.
“You’re shit
ting me.”
His gorgeous smile appears, lighting up his entire face. “Nope. Where you go, I go.”
“Don’t you have a job?” He works at Banner Automotive with the rest of the guys and has club stuff. He doesn’t have time to babysit me.
He moves his head just a touch. “You’re my job now.”
This can’t be happening.
I pull out my phone and dial my father’s number. He answers on the second ring.
“What’s this about Ryker being my bodyguard, Dad?”
When his deep laugh comes across the phone, my grip on the phone gets tighter, causing the plastic to groan.
“Said you could move out on your own. I didn’t say you wouldn’t be watched.”
“This is ridiculous.” I turn from Ryker and bite the side of my thumb. “He can’t be around me all the time, Dad.”
“It’s either that or you go on lockdown. Don’t give a fuck what you pick; choice is yours. But I’m not fuckin’ around, Austyn. You will be safe. You will be protected. You will have someone at your back at all times.” The way he firmly says each word has me paying attention. This is something he won’t budge on.
“And that has to be Ryker?”
“He told me you two were friends now.”
I spin around and pin Ryker with my eyes. He says nothing, not even moving. Jerk.
“This shouldn’t be a problem, then,” my father continues. “He’s Ravage. We’re family. He will protect you.” A pause, then a bomb drop. “Austyn, you should know, he needs to stay at your place with you.”
“No. That’s not happening.”
There’s not even a split-second of hesitation before he replies, “Then lockdown.” My father will do it in a heartbeat too. Hell, he’ll come right now where I’m standing, pick me up on his bike, and take me to the clubhouse himself. He’s putting me between a rock and a hard place. Shit.
Ryker can’t stay with Emery and I. That wasn’t in the plan.
“Do you really think it’s a good idea for him to stay with us? Why doesn’t he just go home at the end of the night?”
He scoffs. “At least you’ve warmed up to the idea of him being your bodyguard quickly. But no. Shit happens in the night, and I need someone there.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Nope. You wanted your freedom, to get back to life. You’ve made your decision, baby girl. Live with it. Bye.” The phone line goes dead. I pull it from my ear and place it in my pocket.
This isn’t happening. How am I going to go after JK if I have someone watching my every move? There’s no way.
“So, where we goin’ next?” Ryker asks.
I look for his truck or bike, but nothing is around. He had someone drop him off. Great.
“Home to shower.”
He touches my arm, sending zaps of electricity through my body. “You need help getting all soaped up, you let me know.” He winks before moving around to the side of the car and getting in.
My body flushes.
Friends, my ass.
“What’s going on?” Emery asks, setting her keys down on the table as she eyes Ryker, who is lounging on our couch, bag of chips beside him and a remote in his hand.
The afternoon hasn’t been bad, considering I spent much of the time in my bedroom, but I can’t spend my life in there.
“We have a roommate.”
Emery coughs. “What?”
“I’m her bodyguard,” Ryker says through a mouthful of chips. At least he chewed them first. “That body is mine to guard.”
I roll my eyes to the ceiling.
“Wait, Ryker is your bodyguard and staying here, with us? For how long?”
Ryker beats me to answer, which is good because I have no idea. “Until that dickhead is caught.”
Fuck.
“This is going to be interesting,” Emery says, giving me a holy-fucking-shit look. “What’s for dinner? It smells good.”
Stirring the pot of sauce, I look up from it to see that the question has piqued Ryker’s interest too. “Just pasta, hamburger, sauce, and cheese.”
“Oh, my gawd! I love that! I haven’t had it in forever,” Emery says excitedly, turning toward Ryker and continuing. “You eat this, you’ll want to marry her.”
She did not just say that. Did she just say that? I’m going to kill her. I am. Holy shit.
Ryker chuckles. “Let me be the judge of that.”
There are so many things I could say here. I could balk and make a point that, that is never going to happen. Or I could tell him that he’s not eating with us so it doesn’t matter. Or I could just call him a jackass and be done with it. I do none of those things.
If I do, it will egg him on, and my energy is too depleted to argue with him. I want to eat and go to my room, where I can get back on my computer.
The food smells great as I put the finishing touches on it, then put it on plates. “Come and get it.”
Ryker winks at me before grabbing his plate and going to the table. This is going to be a long-ass night.
Before I can find my escape, Ryker scoops his first bite. His eyes lock on mine as the appreciation for a good meal shows and so much more.
My heart beats so hard in my chest I can hear the roaring in my ears.
There is no more.
No, the only thing I have room for inside me is retribution. Ryker can’t happen.
Chapter Nine
Fuck, every fucking time she rolls her eyes to the ceiling, I want to grab her, pull her to me, and devour her lips. But watching her today, really watching her, she has more hesitation in her than I initially thought. JK did a number on her, which only pisses me off more where he’s concerned. She shouldn’t have any of that clouding her mind, yet she does. And from the looks of it, it’s often.
“Here.” Austyn hands me a pillow and blanket. The clock says it’s still early, but I’ve thrown her a curveball and am going to let her ride this play. The way she cooked dinner, only to scurry to her room, lets me know she is off-balance having me here. She needs space.
I reach out and take them. “Thanks.”
She turns on her heels. “Night.” Seconds later, I hear the door to her room clicking shut.
Emery left, so it’s just Austyn and I in this small space. My cock grows hard as I toss everything onto the couch.
Friends. What the fuck was I thinking?
“You don’t have to come,” Austyn says from the door, a large bag hanging off her shoulder.
“Nothing more I’d like to do than hang out at a fuckin’ hair place.”
She laughs. I love the damn sound of it. It was missed for so long. I’d do whatever is needed to keep it.
“Sure. Maybe you can get in the chair and I’ll give you some highlights.”
“Hell no.”
She laughs harder, and I suck it in, inhaling it like a drug. Like a concoction I never want to go away. It’s heady and intoxicating.
She reaches up high and runs her fingers through my hair, sending a shock from my scalp to my fucking boots. “It could use a trim.”
My breathing comes quicker. This holding back shit is harder than I ever thought it would be. It’s driving me crazy that I can’t just pull her to me and take what I want.
She removes her hand, taking the sensations with her. “Come on; I don’t want to be late.”
“Just think, we get to do that all again tomorrow.” Austyn throws her head back to the passenger side headrest, happiness radiating off her in waves.
She loves her job. Full-out loves it. She talks with the people there like she’s known them for years. It may all be superficial shit that doesn’t get to the core of who she is, but that doesn’t matter. How she deals with so many people all the time is admirable. There’s no way in hell I’d be able to do that shit.
“That blue-haired bitty needed to get laid.”
Her laugh fills the car. “Yeah, she’s been widowed for years and always has something to say. When she tol
d you all that ink made you look like a road map, I died. Then you told her it was a window to your soul.” Tears stream from her eyes as she continues to laugh loudly.
“They are.”
She brings her hand to her chest, holding it there. “You’re too much.”
“Nah, just the right enough of much.”
She shakes her head. “You have any plans tonight?”
On a shrug, I answer, “Depends on what you’re doin’.”
“Emery has something with her mom, so do you want to pick up some food and just hang out?”
“Let me guess, you want Chinese.”
Her head whips toward me. “How did you know that?”
“You want Hawaiian chicken, fried rice, and egg rolls.”
She gapes at me. It brings me satisfaction that she doesn’t think I know her. How wrong she is.
My attention has been on her for years. I remember everything, and some things she probably doesn’t want me to know. I don’t give a shit.
“Holy shit,” she breathes out in this sexy way that has my cock reacting. “How do you know that?”
Turning toward her, I tip my lip up in a smirk. “I know what’s important.”
She moves, focusing her attention out the windshield.
I’ll make her see … eventually.
We get the Chinese. We eat the Chinese. She’s quiet during dinner, and when I suggest we watch a movie and pick one with The Rock in it, her eyes widen in shock once more. She’s loved his movies forever, it seems.
That leads us to me on one side of the couch, lying down, and her on the other side, both watching the movie. In the same space, together, but not.
My hand itches to grab her. Instead, I pull her feet toward me. She tries to pull away, but I hold strong.
“What are you doing?”
“Relax, Austyn. You’ve been on them all day.” With pressure, I massage her feet, rubbing small circles with my thumbs and pushing into the parts she needs it. I watch for her cues, and when she gives me those throaty moans or groans, I make sure to do those spots over and over.
The tension in her body leaves, and then she relaxes into my touch. I pay attention to both feet, rubbing and kneading. We stay like this for a long time, until her eyes close and she falls fast asleep.
