Joy Ride: A Virgin Romance (Let it Ride Book 3)

by Cynthia Rayne

  Shep chuckled.

  “I’m so glad you’re enjoyin’ yourself.”

  “I’m about to break into song any minute. It’s called the I Told You So chorus. You could have avoided this here situation if you told her weeks ago, like I said.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “You keep offerin’, and I keep denyin’ you. No means no, brother.” Shep strutted out of the meeting room.

  What. An. Asshole.

  ***

  Meanwhile, Rose had confessed most of the situation to her older sister, and Daisy was having a bit of a meltdown.

  Eddie had retreated to the store room, but knowing Eddie, she had her head pressed up against the door, listening in.

  “I’m gonna find this bastard, and we’ll make him pay for what he did to you.”

  “Daze, you can’t.”

  Her sister’s eyebrows raised. “Of course, I can. Marine, remember? I’m highly trained in kicking ass and believe me, this bastard deserves one.”

  “Yeah, tell me somethin’ I don’t know.” She nodded to her sister’s abdomen. “You’re also a pregnant lady.”

  “That doesn’t mean I’m helpless.”

  “You can’t go on a vengeance mission right now. He’s insane, Daze— nuttier than a box of Cracker Jacks. He tried to kidnap you last time. What about your baby?”

  Rose was worried. What if something happened to her niece? Not to mention Daisy. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself.

  After several tense minutes stretched between them, Daisy pressed both hands against her abdomen.

  “I see your point.”

  “Okay, then. That’s settled.”

  “What about the club? Maybe they can sort this out? The Horsemen specialize in vigilante justice.”

  “Duke is taking care of it.”

  “Duke, huh?” Daisy frowned.

  Oh, great. Another argument.

  “Why don’t you like him?”

  “There’s something off about Duke.” She lowered her voice. “Trust me on this one, he’s bad news. Why don’t we bring this to the rest of the guys?”

  “Because Duke’s got it under control.”

  “Why would he help you anyway? From what the brothers say, he keeps to himself, doesn’t get involved.”

  “Because Rose and I are together. What affects her, affects me.”

  They whirled to see Duke walking toward them with a grim expression.

  Daisy exploded. “Together in what way?”

  Rose buried her head in her hands. She’d been trying to work up to that part, and he’d blurted it out without any diplomacy.

  Duke cocked a brow. “How do you think?”

  Daisy’s eyes were wide and disbelieving. “You mean, you two are…?”

  “Yes, but what’s goin’ on between your sister and me is our business. Not yours.”

  Daisy’s mouth fell open. “Not my business?”

  She got to her feet, marched over to Duke, and poked him in the chest. “Everything about her is my business. I’m the closest thing she has to a mother. Remember that talk we had about what would happen if you tried something with her?”

  “Daisy, take it down a notch. I’m not a kid anymore.”

  “Fine.” Daisy fixed Duke with a look. “What are your intentions?”

  “Oh, God. What is this? The fifties?” Rose was mortified.

  “Like I said—ain’t your business.” From his weary expression, his patience seemed to be stretched thin.

  “Elaborate.” Daisy placed her hands on her hips.

  Duke glanced at Rose, and Rose could see an almost pleading look in his eyes.

  “I like your sister.” Duke said the words to Rose.

  “Yeah? Me too. That’s why I don’t want to see her get hurt.”

  Again, Duke focused on Rose, as though Daisy wasn’t in the room at all. “Good, me either. I got no plans to hurt her. I care about her, for her, but this is between the two of us.”

  “Fine. I get it. You two have some sort of strange bond or something.”

  “Enough, Daze,” Rose said, stepping between them. “Duke is right. This isn’t your concern.”

  “But—”

  “I mean it. I’m a grown up, and I make my own decisions.”

  Daisy sighed, giving in. Thank God. “For the record? I don’t like it.”

  “You’re entitled to your opinion.” Rose grinned.

  “Hurt her and I’ll shoot you. Not between the eyes either—somewhere lower and a hell of a lot more painful.” Daisy’s grin was unholy.

  “Daisy…”

  “I only wanted to warn him.”

  Duke gave a curt nod. “You’re crystal clear.”

  Daisy pulled her into a big hug and whispered in her ear, “I’m sorry for being so crazy, but I want you to be safe and happy. Sometimes I get carried away.”

  Rose knew all of Daisy’s insanity came from love. Her sister didn’t have to explain.

  As she left with Duke, Rose contemplated what would make her feel safe and lead to happiness.

  ***

  “I’ve decided something,” Rose announced.

  “That your sister’s a nut? Because I figured it out like ten minutes ago,” Duke joked.

  It wasn’t every day his manhood got threatened. He’d taken the pickup instead of the bike this morning, so they were seated side by side. It was drizzling, and while he hated being in a cage, he loathed getting wet even more.

  “No.” She didn’t sound amused by his quip.

  “What then?” He slanted a look in her direction, wondering what the hell was going on. They were halfway to his house, and she’d been silent the whole time.

  Duke had a bad feeling he’d fucked up. When Daisy asked him what his intentions were, he should have ’fessed up, told Rose he had feelings for her. Instead, he’d choked, mumbled some lukewarm bullshit about liking her.

  Duke more than liked her. Although he had nothing to compare it to, Duke thought he might love her.

  And he had no fucking clue how to say it.

  “I’m sick of waiting for Kent to find me. I want to go after him instead.”

  Shit.

  He’d been expecting a relationship talk, but if she wanted to discuss battle strategy, he’d much rather do that. Personally, Duke thought it sounded like a damn good plan, but he’d never been one for the sitting duck routine. Still, he wanted to know how she’d arrived at this particular conclusion.

  “Why the change of heart?”

  “I’m sick of being Goldilocks. That’s what the guard called me last night.” She pulled a lock of hair around to examine it, her lip curling. “And I’m tired of waiting for Kent to try to kidnap me. I’m going to go after him for a change.”

  “Why don’t you let me handle Kent?” He’d love nothing more than to put a bullet between the bastard’s eyes, right after he cut his balls off, of course.

  “Because this isn’t your fight—Kent isn’t after you. You aren’t the one he’s stalking. I want to end this.”

  His grip on the steering wheel tightened. “I get it. I really do, but if you kill him, it will change you. Trust me, I know.”

  “How do you know?”

  Well, fuck. He’d never been one for true confessions, but this might be a story she needed to hear.

  “I just do.” Duke needed the right time to tell her. “You won’t be the same afterward.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not the same girl I was before Rock found me.”

  “I know, but there’s traumatized, and then there’s bloodthirsty. Look, when we get back to my place, we’ll talk.”

  “Fine.”

  She was quiet for a few more minutes.

  “I also want to cut and dye my hair black. Can we stop at a store to get some shears and some color?”

  Damn. She was full of surprises. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, I’m going to take care of it today.” There was no room for argument in her tone. “With or without you, but i
t’d be a hell of a lot easier if you helped.”

  Duke knew she meant more than the makeover. He turned right and headed for the store.

  “Whatever you say, Firecracker.”

  ***

  Once they got back to his house, she sat on a kitchen chair he’d lugged into the bathroom. He’d also given her one of his ratty old shirts to wear.

  “Are you sure about this, Firecracker?” he asked again. She had beautiful hair. Such a shame to cut it, but it belonged to her—if she wanted hard edges, he’d happily oblige her.

  She met his eyes in the mirror and nodded. “Positive. Goldilocks is gone. I’m not going to act like her anymore, and I don’t want to look like her.”

  He flashed a smile. “You sure you want me to do it? Maybe your sister or Eddie could help…?”

  “You’re my mentor, right?”

  Duke hesitated, ready to tell her he wanted to be a lot more than her mentor or friend—but now wasn’t that time.

  “Yes, I am.”

  Fuck. I’m a chicken shit.

  “Then you should be the one to do it. You helped me make this change.”

  His heart twisted. He’d wanted to help her see the light again, not pull her into his darkness.

  “Okay, then, but we’re gonna have a talk later.”

  “Fine, but you won’t change my mind.”

  “We’ll see. This is a bit like the military, when they give you your first buzz cut.”

  Not all that long ago, he’d gone to the barber for his first crew cut. Rose’s hair felt so fine in his hands—baby soft, and golden. And yet that didn’t describe Rose, not anymore.

  He could hardly believe this was the same girl he’d pulled from the cage. Hell, she’d held her own against the guard and even walked away with his weapon. If Rose was determined to go on a vengeance path, Kent had better watch his ass.

  Knowing he had one last-ditch effort to save her from the blackness within herself, he gathered his thoughts.

  Duke had to get personal with her, share the inner part of himself, the boy who’d lost his innocence and so much more the night he became a teenager. She was worth the pain it’d put him through to bring it all out into the open.

  He seized the shears and cut large chunks of hair away. Duke watched the mirror as the new Rose began to appear. She was harder now like she’d been honed by razor blades—sharpened into something lethal.

  Duke had a sinking feeling in his gut—this last ditch attempt was doomed to failure.

  ***

  Some women might feel sad, seeing their long hair fall around their shoulders and settle onto the floor at their feet.

  Rose wasn’t one of them.

  She literally and figuratively felt lighter. Freer. Duke hacked at her hair without much finesse, but she didn’t give a damn. Rose wanted a change, not perfection.

  After a few minutes, he’d more or less created a chin-length bob. She’d have to see a professional to get it evened out, but Rose had other plans tonight.

  After he was done, she mixed the dye she’d bought at the store and painted her hair. The shade was called Espresso, and she loved the richness of it, watched with pleasure as it stained the blond a deep, dark color.

  Later, Rose slicked the hair back against her scalp and stared at her own reflection with a gleam in her dark eyes. The woman staring back at her from the mirror was more than a match for Kent. She didn’t want to defend herself, not anymore.

  Rose wanted retribution.

  All of this made sense in a sick sort of symbolic way. Kent had forged the black pit inside her, and it was time to let it out, set it free.

  Oh, yes, there would be blood. And screaming.

  Goldilocks was gone.

  Chapter Eighteen

  After she washed the remains of the dye out of her hair and got a quick shower, she joined Duke in The Vault. They sat on the couch together in front of the fire, and Duke poured them scotch and sodas, which she sipped.

  Hard liquor had never been her thing. It burned when it went down, leaving fire in its wake. She wet her lips with it then placed it on the hearth.

  Pensively, he pulled a cigar from the breast pocket of his cut, sliced the end off, and lit it. It was a ritual of sorts—she’d seen him do it several times. After he took a few puffs, he finally spoke.

  “I’ve never told anyone this story before, but you need to hear it.”

  “This is about your stepfather?”

  Duke blew out a long stream of smoke, staring sightlessly into the fire.

  “Yeah. But you have enough horror rolling around in your head already. Can you stand a bit more?”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. He was throwing her a lot of trust. Duke barely let people in his life, and now he was giving her an all-access pass to his trauma. That was a big deal.

  “I can handle it.”

  “Come here.” He patted his leg, and Rose scooted over. She placed her head on his lap. It’d be easier for him to talk about this if she wasn’t watching him.

  Duke stroked her hair. “My mom, Peggy, worked as a waitress in this greasy spoon near an oil field. We were poor as hell, and my dad was never in the picture, so it was only the two of us. Mom scraped by working at the diner, and we lived above her boss’s garage in a room she rented.”

  They’d had similar childhoods. Her mother had only been able to afford dingy apartments in bad areas—and they were always evicted after a few months.

  He continued speaking, without inflection, merely relating the facts.

  “Justin, my stepfather, used to come in every day after work. His daddy owned the field and a half-dozen more all over western Texas. Justin used to order food after work and chat her up. Mom said he was real easy on the eyes, and she fell for him.”

  Rose listened, knowing this story wouldn’t end well.

  “This went on for weeks. She loved flirting with him—even put on dollar store perfume for the bastard.” He gulped down some of the scotch. “I always hung out at the diner after school. I’d eat dinner, do my homework, and he took an interest in me. I thought the fucker was nice—a real good man.”

  She knew what it was like to be deceived by someone. When Kent had ‘bought her’, she’d been relieved… at first. After being held by the rough, gritty bikers, he seemed safe in his three-piece suit and Italian loafers. Rose had been naïve enough to think he might rescue her.

  “They got married a couple months later, and I was happy for her.” Duke paused. “No, more than that—I was comforted. My mom needed someone, and he appeared to be a good guy. You know, he even talked about adoptin’ me, but he wanted me for different reasons.”

  She listened, stroking his thigh as he talked. She could feel the tension in his body even though he kept his voice low and even.

  “I was startin’ to go through puberty, my voice crackin’, hair growing in strange places. I was a nerdy, scrawny twelve-year-old. Maybe a buck and some change which is how dickhead likes them.”

  She closed her eyes, waiting for it.

  “Justin was wealthy, not rich. He had a mansion, with servants and tennis courts. They even went to Europe for their honeymoon.” He laughed without humor. “I don’t think I’d ever seen her so happy. She was in love with him, but it didn’t last long. She got sick.”

  “And he took advantage of the situation?”

  “Yeah. We went to the hospital every day to see her after I got done at school. Then we’d eat dinner in town, usually a fancy ass place. I didn’t know it then, but he was fuckin’ dating me. Makin’ plans. He worked on adopting me too. He got my mother to sign off on it and hired a detective to track down my father, got him to sign the papers too. The adoption went through real easy.”

  God. His molester had adopted him as well. Rose couldn’t even imagine. Justin had all of the power of a parent over Duke.

  “At first, I loved the guy, trusted him. We went to movies together, to ball games, and he even helped out at my school.”
r />   Rose shook her head.

  “Justin groomed me—I learned the term later on. Pedophiles or hepaphiles spend time with a kid to gain their trust and love. Makes it easier to control them.”

  “What’s a hepaphile?” She’d never heard the term.

  “Pervs who fuck teenagers.”

  Duke must’ve loved his stepfather at first. She could hear it in his voice, and it made her heart hurt. He’d been a teenage boy who grew up without a father figure. No wonder he’d relished the chance to spend time with a man. And it only made Justin’s betrayal even worse. No wonder Duke had grown cold and distant.

  Kent’s violation had been horrific, but she’d never loved him. He’d never been anything other than her rapist and abuser.

  Duke spoke slowly, as though the words were dragged out him. “Sometimes we’d watch porn videos at night. Justin said I was becoming a man, that I was old enough to see it.”

  She gripped his leg.

  “Until one night, after we’d watched some dirty movies, he came to my room.”

  Her stomach turned.

  “He was drunker than a skunk. He’d been into the bourbon downstairs, and Justin crawled on top of me while I was sleepin’. The bastard tried to kiss me, and I had no idea what the fuck was going on. I was a virgin—I’d never even held a girl’s hand. And this bastard was grabbin’ my dick, trying to sex me up.”

  She scrunched her eyes shut. Rose knew that feeling—someone bigger and stronger pinning you down and pawing at your body.

  “I screamed my head off, and he slapped me, pressed his hand over my mouth and told me if I woke one of the servants, I’d be sorry. He weighed about two hundred pounds or so, twice my size at that age. I didn’t stand a chance. Justin tossed me over on my stomach, used his belt to lash my wrists to the bed, and fucked my ass until I bled.”

  Tears spilled down her cheeks.

  “The next night, he came to my room, and I threatened him. I said if he touched me again, I’d tell my mother and the police. Justin taught me a lesson—he had a thing for pain, it got him hard.” Duke sucked in a breath. “That night, he shoved my underwear in my mouth, duct-taped me to the bed, and whipped me bloody. Then he fucked me and the bastard didn’t even use any lube.”