Ruthless

by Gillian Archer

  I arched up into his caressing hand. “Not a damn thing’s wrong.”

  He crouched over my burning body and carefully nuzzled my left ear. His lips danced over my bruised cheek, then he pulled back with a ferocious expression. Before he could say something that would totally kill the mood, I leaned up and covered his lips with mine. After a few beats, Zag took control of the kiss and any vows of retribution were quickly forgotten. When he did that flickering thing with his tongue, I forgot my own name.

  After a few minutes, I had to pull away with a moan. “Oh God, Zag. Please. Now!”

  The combination of his wicked tongue and magic fingers had me seeing stars. But I wanted him inside me. Not the endless torment where he drove me to the peak again and again.

  Although, don’t get me wrong, that had its charm—just not tonight.

  With a smug chuckle, Zag leaned over and grabbed a condom from his nightstand. He put it on with no assistance from me, pushing my hands away. “No way, princess. I’m on a knife’s edge as it is.”

  A few seconds later, he was leaning over me again with a wicked smile. I caught my breath as he thrust inside me.

  And soon after that I wasn’t able to think at all.

  My entire focus—world—was the man between my thighs. His powerful thrusts had me at the brink, but when he ran a teasing finger over my clit, I broke. My body shuddered with my orgasm, and Zag’s finger continued to flick my oversensitive clit. Even as my thighs clasped around his hips, I tried to arch away. It was too much. Too much sensation. Too much of him.

  Zag followed my arching hips and didn’t stop until his pelvis kissed mine. Where he stayed. Buried deep inside me, no longer thrusting. “Look at me.”

  The urgency of his command had me obeying without a conscious thought.

  His golden eyes burned into mine. The intensity in his stare had my heart stuttering in my chest. So much emotion. So much hidden depth to this man. So much left unsaid.

  Apparently satisfied with whatever he found in my eyes, he buried his face in my neck, and three thrusts later the hoarse shout he gave told me he’d found his fulfillment.

  As always, there was little afterglow cuddling time with Zag. A few beats later, he rolled away. After disposing of the condom, he came back to bed. Like a moth to a flame, I nestled as close to his side as I could without feeling like I was smothering him. Despite our passionate lovemaking, or maybe because of it, all I could think about now was the turf war. The scars on Zag’s hands and body. The club tattoo sleeve that took up his whole right arm. Zag was in it.

  And now so was I.

  I’d been lying to myself for months. Telling myself I wasn’t in too deep. That Zag wasn’t really one of those scary bikers. It was so easy to forget because he wasn’t really like that with me. He might get all grrr and manly but at the heart of him, Zag was a sweet and passionate guy. Now it was impossible to ignore who I was sleeping with. I’d seen a glimpse of the dirty world he lived in.

  Zag’s chest rumbled under my ear. “This will not touch you again. I’ll take care of it.”

  He must’ve sensed my worry. I tried to believe him—I know he cared about me. But my cheek throbbed in a reminder of what had happened today, and some of my crazy thoughts spilled out of my mouth.

  “But why, Zag? You’re better than this. You’re an amazing man. Why are you with them?”

  Zag jerked away from me. I felt the loss acutely. Then he was looming over me. “Better than this? This is who I am. These guys are my family. My brothers. They’ve given me everything.”

  I shrank back into the mattress. The snarl in Zag’s voice was one of the scariest things I’d heard in my entire life. A smart person would agree and try to pacify the angry beast she’d woken. But smart had nothing to do with what I said next. “You sound like an abuse victim.”

  “What?” Zag flinched, like my words had slapped him in the face.

  “What you said. You’re trying to justify the situation. ‘It’s okay because they’re family. It’s okay because they’ve given me everything.’ That’s how abuse victims talk.”

  Zag jumped off the bed. “What the fuck do you know about abuse?”

  I watched his shadow pace around the dark bedroom. I had a sinking feeling that I was in over my head. When would I start thinking before I spoke? I tried to think of what I could say to make it right, take it back, but once again my mouth ran away from me. “Well, I-I-I don’t have any firsthand experience per se, but I’ve seen my fr—”

  “Exactly. You don’t know shit. My mom was a fucking druggie who slapped me around for fun when she was bored. She and her dealer boyfriend made a fucking sport of it—see who could make the brat cry first. So don’t fucking tell me about abuse.”

  My heart broke at the picture he painted. To be so little and betrayed by the woman who was supposed to love you unconditionally was horrific. “Oh God, Zag. I’m sorry. So sorry. I had no idea your family life was like that. I just—”

  “Yeah, my childhood sucked. The best thing that happened to me was walking into Reb’s shop. He took me in. Let me make something of myself. Him and the club.”

  “I just—I don’t…I just wanted you to know that there is more out there. More than beatings and—”

  “No. At least there’s not for me. I swear to Christ that bastard will not touch you again. But this is who I am, Jess.” He stomped over and flicked the light switch. I blinked against the sudden and intense light. His features swam above me in the stark light. “Look at me. What you see is what you get. You don’t get to pick and choose pieces of me. This is who I am. All I’ll ever be. Accept it or get the hell out.”

  “But I can’t do that, can I? Your ex-club brother came to my job, Zag. The cops aren’t going to do a damn thing. So I’m not going anywhere. I can’t.” I thought of what happened in that parking garage. Of what Preacher did to Bobby. And to me. What if he came back? What if Preacher would do more than threaten next time? I started to shake. What was I going to do?

  “Christ, princess.” Zag grabbed me and pulled me into his chest, his arms going tight around me.

  “I can’t go anywhere. What did I do? Oh God. What did I do?”

  “It’ll be okay,” Zag whispered above my head. He lay back on the bed and held me in his arms. “I’ve gotten out of worse scrapes than this.”

  I bit back my maniacal laughter. Somehow that didn’t comfort me.

  Chapter 18

  AUGUST 1

  I spent the next two weeks avoiding everyone. It was easy to dodge my friends and family—I’d been practicing that almost since I met Zag. I also dodged my coworkers. After using up all my sick time, I was afraid I wouldn’t have a job to come back to. Besides, I hadn’t exactly endeared myself to management. But given that the whole parking lot incident hadn’t been my fault and I had followed protocol after the attack, they didn’t have cause to fire me. Add in the fact that apparently the security cameras were still down—management was more concerned with covering their own asses. I still had to use heavy makeup on my first day back. But after two weeks, the bruise on my cheek had mellowed into a gnarly yellow, which made it easier to cover. Most people didn’t look close enough to notice.

  But then Emily wasn’t most people.

  When I looked up from my desk at work and saw her standing there, my brain stopped. I was so afraid of what she’d think that I didn’t know what say. Until she spoke.

  “Oh my god. What did that bastard do to you?”

  I immediately hunched my shoulders and sent her a dirty look. This was my place of business, for crying out loud. “Would you keep your voice down?”

  Fortunately, it was dead in the lobby, so even my coworker on the other end of the desk wasn’t paying attention. She was too busy trying to read Facebook on her phone without getting caught.

  “You and me have to talk. Now.”

  Emily was usually a very sweet and easygoing person. Just not this second. She was ferocious when she thought one of
her friends had been threatened. Never mind abused.

  I waved to my coworker and indicated that I was going on break early, then ripped off my name tag and hustled Emily into the nearby ladies’ room. I checked to make sure the stalls were empty, then rounded on my friend.

  “What the hell? This is where I work. You can’t be coming in here and saying stuff like that.”

  “I’m sorry. I saw your cheek and just…lost it. What the hell is going on? I don’t hear from you for weeks and now you look like that. What was I supposed to think?”

  “I don’t know. Certainly not that Zag did it. He wouldn’t. He’s not like that. It was Preacher.”

  “The drug dealer?”

  “Yes. He attacked me and Bobby in the parking garage. He threatened me about testifying. I guess he blames me for his arrest and getting kicked out of the club.”

  “And he hit you?”

  “Yeah.” I carefully brushed my cheek, then shuddered. “And he licked my face.”

  Emily flinched. “That’s so horrible. All of it—not just the licking. What did the police say?”

  “Nothing. They assumed because I was with a True Brother at the time that it was all just a stupid, petty disagreement that didn’t concern them. They didn’t believe me. It was almost like they thought I asked for it. Mutual combat or whatever.”

  “The police? Not the rent-a-cops you guys got here?”

  A woman entered the restroom and smiled awkwardly at us. As she turned to one of the stalls, I grabbed Emily’s arm and led her toward the sitting area and away from the toilets. “Actually, security was awesome. It was the cops who were asses. I just…I don’t know what to do.”

  Emily lowered her voice in respect to our new audience. “I think what you should do is obvious. You need to get Zag out of your life. That man is trouble.”

  I took a deep breath and confessed the deep, dark secret I’d been afraid to admit to myself, let alone say out loud. “I don’t think I can.”

  Emily closed her eyes and shook her head. “You cannot be in love with that thug. It’s been less than two months. Look at what he’s done to you. You’re a walking bruise, for crying out loud.”

  “He didn’t do this to me.” My voice rose with my agitation. “He wasn’t even there. And now he won’t let me out of his sight. Zag drops me off at work and picks me up. Hell, he even goes on my grocery runs. He’s doing everything in his power to keep me safe.”

  “Jess—”

  “No. Zag is actively trying to keep me safe. Not knocking me around. He’s nothing like Michael.”

  The second I said his name, Emily flinched like I slapped her. And all my anger immediately leached out.

  “Honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up—”

  “No, it’s okay. I get it. Your boyfriend is nothing like my asshole ex.” Emily pushed up from the couch and stomped over to the sink.

  I stood to follow her but stopped short as a toilet flushed and the woman exited the stall, making her way to the sinks. She kept her wide eyes glued to the floor and was careful not to look at either of us. I hovered awkwardly between the couch and sink area as I waited for the stranger to finish up and leave. This wasn’t exactly a conversation I wanted to have with an audience.

  Not that it stopped me a few minutes ago, but in the heat of the moment I’d forgotten our potential audience. This was Emily’s dirty secret and not one I’d ever willingly expose.

  After the wide-eyed stranger finally left, I walked over to where Emily was obsessively washing her hands. “Em, I didn’t—”

  “No, you’re right. Zag isn’t like Michael. I’m sorry I even implied such a thing.” Emily continued to scrub her hands under the running water.

  I knew we were in deep trouble when Emily started up with her OCD hand washing. Never mind her über polite language. Shit. Why did I even bring up his name? Michael had been Emily’s high school boyfriend. And he was a serious asshole. Their relationship had started out sweet enough—dates and making out at the movies—but quickly turned dark when he’d subtly began to seclude her from her friends and activities until she was totally alone. And then the beatings started.

  It’d taken me and Nic months to get Emily to see that Michael was toxic. And a relationship like that left obvious and deep scars.

  “Em, stop.” I tore off a length of paper towel and grabbed her hands from the stream of water. “I don’t want you guys thinking Zag is anything like him. I know I’ve been out of touch lately, and that’s my fault. It’s nothing Zag has done or made me do.”

  Emily threw the damp paper towel away, then turned back to me. “It doesn’t help that the first time I see you after a month you have a huge bruise on your cheek.”

  “Point taken. How about I have you and Nic over one of these nights so you guys can get to know Zag, too? That way you can see he’s not some scary thug.”

  Emily cracked a small smile. “Sounds like a plan. Text me when and where.”

  I laughed. I had a feeling she’d want to meet him right now if she could. “How about tomorrow? And I can already tell you where—my place. We are not doing it at Zag’s. Baby steps.”

  Emily grabbed her purse off the counter. “Now you got me wondering what he’s hiding in his closets at home.”

  “Nothing you need to worry about. He’s a pretty straightforward kinda guy. You never have to wonder where you stand with him—he’ll let you know.”

  “In that case, we should probably have a conversation with Nicole first. If she sees you looking like this, things might get out of hand really fast.”

  “Dear God. Those two together? There just might be bloodshed.” I let Emily escort me back to the front desk, then gave her a hug and promised to set something up with her and Nic and Zag.

  As I watched her walk away, I couldn’t help but feel guilty. Guilty over letting things get so tangled up to the point where I was ducking those closest to me. Guilty over not seeing the obvious comparisons Em would draw between Zag and Michael. Guilty that almost ten years after her relationship with him, Emily still flinched when his name was said. Guilty that Nic and I hadn’t intervened sooner. At first we’d chalked Emily’s behavior up to new love obsessiveness, but the signs were there. We’d just been too young and stupid to see them.

  But this was different. Me and Zag were different. I just had to give Em and Nic the chance to see it.

  —

  I bit back a curse as I looked at the screen of my phone. Sitting on my couch next to Zag after a long day at work was supposed to be my unwinding time—that slice of my day when I could just sit back and relax and not worry about anything. It was one of the few times outside of sex where Zag would let me cuddle with him (and those times after sex only happened once he was asleep). With a heavy sigh, I pushed up from the couch and paced over to the kitchen before I answered.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  Of course, when one domino tumbles, the rest come crashing down. Apparently I had to pay for all the ducking and hiding of family and friends that I’d been doing.

  “Don’t you ‘hey, Mom’ me. Where have you been? And why couldn’t you return just one of my phone calls?”

  I liked how she said just one. Because there had been many. So many that I stopped counting. But since I couldn’t come up with a convincing reason not to go to the weekly family barbecues and holiday picnics, I had just avoided her calls altogether. Besides, there was no way in hell I could see my mom until my bruise was completely gone. That woman had X-ray vision—especially when it came to my bullshit.

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I’ve just been busy with work and going out with friends. You know how summer is.”

  It wasn’t exactly a lie—Zag was a friend. Of a sort.

  “What’s his name?”

  I knew that arch tone in my mother’s voice. She was on to me, and if I wasn’t careful there’d be nowhere I could hide. I tried for an innocent voice. “Who?”

  “Drop the innocent act. It didn’t work when y
ou were five and trying to hide the stray puppies in your closet. It won’t work now. I want to know about whatever man who’s got you all tied up in knots. What’s his name?”

  I rolled my eyes. I really should’ve known better. “Was there a purpose to the call today, Mom?”

  “Yes, the purpose was to find out who you’re dating. Because there’s only one reason you start avoiding the family. So what’s his—” She broke off as I heard some indistinguishable conversation.

  The mumbling continued, and I leaned against the counter waiting for the moment my mom would remember she had me on the phone.

  “No, Wayne. It is my business. She’s my only daughter. I have a right to know what’s going on in her life. She could’ve been dead for all we knew.”

  I choked back my ironic laughter. Dear God, if she only knew…

  While my parents continued to argue in the background, Zag sauntered over to the fridge. He pulled the door open and pulled out a can of his favorite beer that I’d stocked up on. Given the amount of time he spent over at my place, it only made sense.

  He popped the top and raised an eyebrow at me.

  I shook my head and made a face as I mouthed “my mom” back to him.

  He shut the fridge door, but instead of leaving the room like I’d expected—and would have been polite—he leaned against the fridge and shamelessly eavesdropped.

  Feeling a bit naked to have the object of our discussion—and my denials—in the room, I snapped, “How about you call me back when you figure it out?”

  I moved to end the call when my mom’s shouted “Jessica!” stopped me. Reluctantly, I put the phone back to my ear. “What?”

  “If you can’t be bothered to at least share part of your life with me—”

  “Mom, it’s not that. I just…I’m not ready.” Her guilt trip got me every time. The thought that I was hurting her with my silence was too much for me to let slide, but I wasn’t ready. This thing between me and Zag was so new, and I was afraid too much inspection would hurt it.