by Katie Ashley
In another time and place, far from here, I might have considered his dark, chiseled features handsome. But because of the monster I knew him to be, I never looked at him without thinly veiled repulsion. His ego was so enlarged that he expected me to enjoy his rapes. At first, I had wept inconsolably during each attack, and in return I got beaten. I had learned very quickly to use my imagination. Instead of Mendoza, I pretended it was Brad Pitt or Henry Cavill in the bed with me—anything to endure it.
He pulled me down onto the bed beside him. After rolling on top of me, he shoved up the dress shirt. “Roja,” he murmured against my lips.
I disconnected the moment he slammed into me. Instead of Mendoza’s black, soulless eyes looming over me, it was the gentle, caring eyes of Dr. Josh Jenkins. What I imagined with him wasn’t even sexual. It was more about the kindness he had shown me, the dimples that appeared when he smiled, his tender bedside manner with his four-legged patients.
Because I missed him, the animals at the clinic, and most of all my former life, I found myself murmuring, “Oh, Josh.”
Mendoza’s pounding in and out of me immediately ceased. When I finally dared to open my eyes, his menacing gaze made me shudder, even though I knew better than to show any reaction to him. “What did you say, bitch?”
“Nothing,” I whispered as I shrank away from him.
His fingers came to curl around my neck. “I’ll kill you for letting another man’s name come off your lips.”
When his other fist blasted into my cheek, I began to scream.
My eyelids fluttered as I tiptoed along the line between consciousness and unconsciousness. Someone was shouting my name. “Roja!” “Annabel!”
I focused all my strength on the one who called my real name. When I dared to open my eyes, I found myself staring into the kind, concerned face of Rev. I exhaled a breath of relief. It had been a dream. Just a dream. I wasn’t back at Mendoza’s.
“Are you okay?”
Since I couldn’t speak, I merely nodded. My body shivered and shook like a newborn colt taking its first steps. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to stop the tremors.
Without saying a word, Rev’s strong arms reached out to draw me against him. “Shh, it’s all right. You’re safe,” he murmured against my ear.
My trembling arms came up to wrap around him. I burrowed deeper into his chest, into his warmth. Closing my eyes, I pressed my face against his skin, searching out the sound of his beating heart. I marveled at the thought that a relative stranger could provide the comfort I so desperately needed. “You want to talk about it?” Rev asked.
Only with him would I allow myself to go there. I swallowed hard. “It was about that last night with Mendoza . . . how he wanted to kill me.” The tremors ricocheted through me again like I was being shaken by someone.
Placing his hands on each side of my face, Rev pushed my head back so I could look into his eyes. “Believe me when I say that you never have to worry about Mendoza hurting you ever again.”
“How can you be so sure?” I whispered.
“Because I will put a bullet between his eyes before he ever has the chance.”
My heartbeat skipped erratically, as if it were playing a manic game of hopscotch. For a moment, my instinct was to recoil from him with disgust by what he had just suggested. I couldn’t fathom how the compassionate and caring Rev could also be a coldhearted killer.
Rev stared down at his hands. “I’m sorry if I disappoint you, but that’s who I am. I will protect what’s important to me. You need to understand that.” From the look of determination that was etched across his handsome features, I knew he spoke the absolute truth.
I shook my head. “Regardless of what you say you are, I could never let you do that. If you got caught, you would go to jail because of me.”
“It would be worth it to end the life of such an odious creature. Mendoza doesn’t deserve to live.”
Although I wanted Mendoza dead even more than Rev did, it was still hard hearing him say the words. Anxiety ricocheted through me, and before I could stop myself, I blurted, “But if you went to jail, then I wouldn’t get to be with you anymore!”
Rev’s smile once again sent my heart skipping, and it amazed me how quickly he could shift from intimidating to sweet and tender. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“But if you—”
“I won’t get caught.”
“How can you possibly believe that?”
“Just trust me.”
“Rev—”
“Because I’ve done it before.”
My brows furrowed in confusion.
He shook his head slowly back and forth as if he were trying to get me to see the light. “I’ve killed before, and I’ll kill again.”
A shudder ran through me at his words. My savior couldn’t be so soulless. He saved lives; he didn’t take them. He dried my tears and comforted me, which wasn’t part of a killer’s profile. With my stomach roiling in revulsion, I argued, “No . . . no, you’re not like that.”
“But I am.” He exhaled a breath that sounded tormented. “Right now, in your current frame of mind, it’s easy for you to think of me as only a knight in shining armor. But that’s just make-believe. When my club, my brothers, have been threatened or are in danger, I have fought with them. And I have killed with them.”
I sat in a dumbfounded stupor as the veil of my ignorance concerning Rev and his brothers was stripped away. Besides my time with Mendoza, I had never been in the presence of a murderer before. When I was a little girl, I had seen the faces of death row inmates on signs when groups of protestors were petitioning my grandfather for clemency. They had scared me then, and they scared the old Annabel of a few months ago.
But if I was truly honest with myself, the new Annabel was only slightly alarmed. Maybe it was because I had been through enough to see that things weren’t completely black and white in the world. There was a gray area, which many unsuspecting people were pushed into against their will. Maybe they were defending themselves against violence and it got out of hand, or maybe they were avenging those they loved. Who was I to pass judgment?
Rev must’ve misread my silence, because now he was the one putting distance between us as he rose from the bed. “I’m sorry if I’ve scared you. I don’t want you to think badly of me. But I want you to be able to say I was always honest with you.”
“I appreciate that.”
“I’m not so sure you do right now, but I think you’ll come to appreciate it in the next few days. I think it will make it easier to get on a plane to Virginia once we get back to Georgia.”
“I’m not going back to Virginia.”
“Did you not just hear what I said?”
“Every word.”
“Then what is your problem?” he demanded.
A borderline-hysterical laugh burst from my lips. “My problem? I’m pretty sure I have more than just one problem, and at the moment, your past is the least of them.”
“You’re not thinking clearly.”
“Have you ever just walked up to someone and shot them for the hell of it?”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Of course I haven’t. Who the fuck do you think I am?”
“So, if you’ve reached that point of violence, basically you’ve killed when you had to—when you or your brothers were threatened or when an innocent girl was being held against her will?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“Then I’m thinking perfectly clearly when I tell you nothing you have said would induce me to want to leave.”
Rev stared wide-eyed at me. “How can you, of all people, condone what I have done? Maybe you think it’s okay, but if you knew all the things I’ve done, if you really stopped and thought about it, I’m not sure you would feel the same way.”
“It’s not for me to judge you.”
“Bullshit.”
“Excuse me?”
“Anyone with a moral compass has the right to judge
me.”
I rose and crossed the room to stand closer to him. “Do you regret what you’ve done in the past?”
Rev stopped his manic pacing. After running his hand over his beard, he replied, “Yes. Yes, of course I do.” His eyes, which were somewhat cloudy, met mine. “Regardless of what type of person they were, I took their life. I took away someone’s son, someone’s father, someone’s husband.”
“But you are sorry for it,” I said softly.
He closed his eyes. “Yes, I am.”
“You know what a wise man once said? That by showing true repentance for what you have done, you can find redemption. All one has to do is ask for forgiveness to whatever higher power or being you believe in.”
“As long as I keep doing it, then I’m not truly repentant, am I?”
More than anything I wanted to make him feel better, but at the same time, I knew I had to be honest with him. “No, I suppose not.”
“Our club was supposed to be going legit. It was something my new sister-in-law demanded before she married my brother.”
“Why did you stop trying?”
He exhaled a harsh breath before sitting back down on the bed. “I guess you could say it’s my fault for what I did in Mexico.”
My heart skipped a beat at his words. “Oh no. Please tell me I’m not the reason.”
Rev shook his head. “It’s because I went after Sarah. Mendoza is tied to the Diablos—one of the toughest clubs around. Like I told you before, I was a marked man the minute I entered that compound, regardless of what happened to you.”
“And you were willing to risk all that for Sarah?”
He nodded. “Because of what I’d been through and because of what Breakneck had done for me.”
At that point I felt my heart might burst with the magnitude of respect and admiration I felt for him. Maybe even some form of love. I realized then I could go the rest of my life, and I would never meet another man like Rev.
I walked over to stand in front of him. “Rev Malloy, I think someone would have to try very, very hard to find a man with as pure a heart and as kind a soul as yours.”
He gave me a weak smile. “I think you’re just being nice.”
“No. I’m not. You just keep trying to make your club legit. All the pieces will fall together.”
“I really want to believe that.”
As I surveyed his face, I realized something. “You know, I don’t think I know your real name.”
He winced. “It’s Nathaniel.”
“That’s a beautiful name.”
“I’m glad you think so. The only person who gets away with calling me that, though, is my mother.”
“It makes sense that it’s a biblical name since your father was a minister.”
“You think I look like a Nathaniel?”
I smiled. “I think you look like a Rev to me.”
Rev laughed. “I’m glad to hear it.” He glanced at the clock on the desk. “Think you can sleep now?”
The prospect of being in the dark, alone, and facing my nightmare again caused my stomach to churn. “Would you lie down with me?” At Rev’s slight hesitation, I added, “Just until I go to sleep.”
“Sure. Of course.”
After I walked around the side of the bed, I pulled back the covers so we could both get under them. Rev turned out the light on the nightstand. I moved as close to Rev as I could. Although I was probably making him uncomfortable, I was more than happy to be selfish in the moment and think only of myself.
As we lay in the dark, a thought came to me. “The other day when you recited from ‘Annabel Lee,’ was that all you knew?”
He chuckled. “Why do I get the feeling if I say I know more I’m going to end up being forced to perform?”
“I’d love to hear it all.”
“I’ve got to learn to tell you no,” he muttered. Then, after drawing in a deep breath, he began to recite the poem. I closed my eyes and burrowed against him. The deep, rich timbre of his voice relaxed me. And although the poem’s content was rather depressing, I focused more on a man whose love for his Annabel Lee could not be stopped even by death.
ELEVEN
REV
As I started to wake up, something tickled across my nose. When my hand reached up to swipe it away, I realized it was a long strand of hair. A woman’s hair. Oh fuck, it was Annabel’s hair. I had fallen asleep with Annabel in my arms.
Opening my eyes, I peered down to see if she was awake. One side of her face was pressed against my chest as if she were trying to listen to my heartbeat. From the soft rise and fall of her chest, I could tell she was still sleeping peacefully. I debated whether to move, since I really shouldn’t have been in bed with her. Sunlight had yet to streak through the curtains, so I knew we didn’t have to get on the road yet. A glance at the clock on the nightstand told me it was a little after five. More than anything, I hated to wake Annabel when she was resting so comfortably.
Even though she had asked me to sleep with her, I knew it wasn’t a good idea. But I had taken her into my arms and then slept beside her. I hadn’t slept with a woman in years. Sure, I’d had sex with several girls since my girlfriend had broken my heart. There was never a shortage of sweet butts who wanted to ease my pain. But whenever I took those women up on their offers, they never stayed the night. To my way of thinking, sharing a bed or sleeping beside someone was almost more intimate than the act of sex itself.
I stared up at the ceiling. How in the hell had I gotten myself into this situation? I was completely in over my head. A week ago I had left to save Sarah, and somehow my whole life had changed. But as twisted as it sounds, it had changed for the better. The truth was I enjoyed spending time with Annabel. I loved her laugh, her smile, and the way she felt comfortable teasing me. I may have saved her from Mendoza, but in a way it felt like she had saved me.
No matter how much I was enjoying being with Annabel, though, I couldn’t turn off the voice of doubt in my head. Part of me wondered if I was tripping on the high of a hero complex, where being the savior of a beautiful girl gave me some kind of sick pleasure. After all, I thought, if she hadn’t been abused at Mendoza’s hands, she would have never given a guy like me a second glance.
I hated those thoughts.
Most of all, I was afraid of doing anything that would hurt Annabel. I didn’t want to be the cause of screwing up her recovery. Like I had told her at dinner last night, there was no handbook on the right or wrong way to heal. In another time and place, Annabel would have been the type of woman I pursued. Beautiful, sweet, innocent, and a little bit sassy. As crazy as it sounded, I almost wished I had rescued a less attractive girl, or a girl who had a boyfriend or husband waiting on her at home. Anything but a girl who would catch my interest.
Instead, fate could be a cruel bitch.
Of course, I had to wonder what kind of sick fucker I was to even be thinking about Annabel in a sexual way. Last night, I’d tried to put her at ease about her feelings while at the same time I struggled with my own needs. After all, I’d known the girl a week—one part of which was spent rescuing her from sexual slavery and watching her heal. I mean, for fuck’s sake, there had to be something wrong with me. Annabel had been through mental and physical hell and had every right to be confused by her feelings for me. Me, I had no excuse whatsoever.
Annabel shifted and stretched in my arms. When I looked at her again, her eyes were open and she was taking in her surroundings. “Morning,” I said softly.
She jerked out of my arms. “Um, morning.”
“Sorry if I scared you.”
Annabel shook her head. “No, it’s nothing like that. I’m just a little embarrassed about how I acted last night.”
“Annabel, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. Nightmares and flashbacks are horrific. I know that as well as you do.”
“I hope you were able to sleep, considering I was lying all over you.”
Even in the short time I had known her, i
t was clear to me that she always worried too much. “I actually slept through the night. I just woke up a little before you did.”
“Guess we better get on the road, huh?”
I nodded. “If we haul it, we could make it to Georgia by tonight.”
“Really?”
“It’s about twelve hours when you don’t have a lead foot like mine. Of course, I know I owe you a quick shopping stop.”
She laughed. “Yes, you do. I promise to be quick.”
With a smirk, I replied, “A woman who shops fast? I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“Then I’ll be happy to prove it to you.”
Annabel was true to her word, and after a stop at Walmart, we were on the road by six thirty. We ate both breakfast and lunch in the car. I made sure she did lie down in the back for several long stretches. The rest of the time she was up front in the passenger seat beside me. As for me and my wound, I managed to keep my leg pain under control with some Advil.
We learned a lot more about each other on the drive home. It’s amazing what you can talk about when you’re trying to pass the time on a long stretch of road. Of course, I learned new things about her, but they didn’t change what I already knew. It just made me appreciate who she was even more.
When we crossed the Georgia state line, I called Bishop to let him know where we were. Since bikes made better time, he had gotten home early that morning. I wondered if he and Breakneck had even stopped to sleep much—they had probably crashed along the way at one of the Mississippi or Alabama Raiders’ clubhouses. He informed me that the guys were anxious to have me back.
I didn’t know just how anxious until we got home. As I pulled into the roadhouse parking lot, both in- and out-of-town Raiders swarmed the car. Cheers and whistles went up in the group, while others pounded their fists on the hood and trunk. Ordinarily I would have appreciated the show of support, but I knew the ruckus was the last thing Annabel needed.
