"What's between us is between us," I finally said, tossing back my drink and slamming the glass down onto his desk. If he didn't get the message that I didn't want to discuss it, then there was going to be trouble.
"You hurt her‒"
"Don't plan on it." I watched as he sat back in his chair, grumbling beneath his breath. "Let's worry about finding Daryl," I insisted, crossing my arms. For a minute we stared each other down, but after a few seconds of thinking it over he nodded. I felt a vibration in my pocket and dug out my phone. It was Moody. "Yeah, brother?"
"Hey, I'm down here at a biker bar called The Rooster in Sanford. Caught wind of some news."
I'd heard of The Rooster but had never been to it. I liked to stick closer to home when I was in Daytona. Moody didn't call any place home. Like many of us nomads, he had never been part of an MC. He liked running solo, and when you hired the brother for a job, he did it, did it well, and then disappeared. I knew the only reason that he was sticking around now was to help out if I needed him.
"What kind of news?" The background noise on his phone revealed that he was still in the bar. I could hear heavy rock n' roll, laughter, and the sound of pool balls slamming into pockets.
"Some of the Kings are here. Overheard one of them talking about Daryl and his skipping out on owing them money. Apparently, he called Wicked earlier and told him he had something for him in exchange for the money."
Ginger. My gut clenched at how close she'd come to being in the middle of shit. "Are they looking for him?"
"Fuck, yeah, brother. They want their money and they're willing to take it out of his hide."
I snorted. "Daryl's days are numbered. Vinny has people looking for him, too."
"You might not get to be the one to end him," Moody said, stating something that I was already aware of. "The only advantage you got is that Daryl doesn't know anyone else is looking for him except the Kings." I knew that, too. "I'm going to hang around here for a couple of days, see if I can pick up anything else."
"While you're at it, ask about a guy named Jack, he was with Daryl when they took Ginger."
"Will do."
"Thanks, brother." We'd have an easier time of finding two men with specific names than one. The call was ended and I slipped my phone back into my pocket, pinning my gaze on Vinny. "Daryl was going to trade Ginger to Wicked in exchange for the money he owed them."
"Thank fuck she escaped when she did," Vinny commented, his face turning red.
I couldn't agree more. I got to my feet. "Moody's going to hang around in Sanford for a while, keep his eyes open. I've got to get back to the hospital." I didn't want to leave Ginger alone for too long with Daryl still out there somewhere. I didn't trust him. She'd ruined his plans, whether Wicked would have taken her or not.
Vinny pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. "I gotta get out front. I'll let you know when I hear something."
When, not if. With the amount of people looking for Daryl, and now Jack, someone was bound to see or hear something. Better sooner than later. I wanted to put an end to this.
When I arrived back at the hospital and Della's room, I wasn't surprised to walk in and find that Ginger was asleep. She was sitting in a chair next to the bed, her head lying on her crossed arms that were resting on the bed rail. She looked uncomfortable. Della was sleeping, too, which was probably a good thing. She was hooked up to all kinds of bags and monitors, but her breathing seemed peaceful. The woman had been through hell, and the thought that Ginger could have ended up the same way filled me with blind rage.
I wasn't going to be happy until Daryl was maggot food.
I stepped further into the room. Ginger stirred slightly as I moved closer to her. She straightened slowly and turned my way, the sleepy sadness in her eyes gutting me. Once again I was reminded that I hadn't been there to keep her safe, that I hadn't listened to my gut when it had warned me that Daryl was trouble. I forced down the anger and instead focused on Ginger's beautiful face. Her warm smile calmed me.
"Hi," she said softly.
"Babe." I couldn't help myself. I slipped my hand beneath her hair and around the back of her neck and then leaned in to kiss her. Her lips were so fucking soft and sweet, and I wanted to take the time to slip my tongue inside her mouth to taste her, but not here, not now. There would be time for that later. I drew back, my gaze dropping to the slightly swollen, dewy look that my kiss had created. "Let's go‒"
Her eyes grew round as she whispered sharply, "No! I need to be here!"
"Babe, listen--" I crouched next to her, running my hand up and down her back. "It's been a long day, you've got to eat something and get some rest. Della would want you to do that‒"
"But‒"
"Look at her," I continued. "She's sleeping soundly and probably will all night. We can come back first thing in the morning."
Ginger looked at Della, but I could see the indecision in her liquid eyes. She was barely holding on. "I'm scared," she admitted softly.
I couldn't blame her. I dug out my phone and pulled up Tanner's number. It took a few rings before he answered.
"What's up, brother?"
"Hey, man, I'm here at the hospital. Can one of your brothers do a little protection duty while Della is here? I need to get Ginger home, and she's afraid to leave her friend."
"Anything you need. I'll send Gabe. How's the girl doing?" he asked.
"She's in rough shape, but she’ll heal." I didn't want to get into the details. "I appreciate this, brother."
"Good to hear. He'll be there in ten."
The entire time that I'd been on the phone, Ginger's eyes had been on me while she listened in, so I didn't need to fill her in on what had been said. Her smile and the shining appreciation in her pretty eyes was all the confirmation I needed that she was on board.
"Thank you." Her soft words were followed with a sweet kiss that warmed my blood. I growled low, fighting the urge to pull her back to me when she drew away.
"We'll wait for Gabe to get here and then take off, yeah?" She nodded. "We'll grab something to eat somewhere, and then go home."
"I am hungry," she admitted.
I was hungry, too, but for her. I'd feed her, take her home for a long soak, and then fuck her into oblivion. I would make her forget, if only for a little while, the shit that had gone down today.
"Have you talked to anyone about how long Della will be here?"
"A nurse came in earlier, she said probably a few days." I nodded, sensing that she wanted to say more. "Do you think he'll try anything else?"
She didn't need to say his name. I knew that she was talking about Daryl, and I wasn't going to lie to her. If anything, the truth would make her more aware of what was going on around her. Until Daryl was found, neither she nor Della was out of the woods completely. "If he's smart he won't, but he's on drugs, and he owes someone money, someone bad. He may place blame for his predicament on one of you. He didn't get what he needed from Della, so I'd like to say he won't be back, but the truth is, when someone is desperate and on drugs, they don't think rationally. "
Ginger nodded in understanding. "Will someone be here as long as Della is here?"
"Yeah." I didn't want her to worry about it. "I'll see to it. Gabe is on his way now."
"Did I hear my name?"
We both turned toward the door to see a huge biker with a blonde Mohawk saunter into the room. He looked like a fucking Viking. Gabe was the Sentinels' VP and a good man to have in a fight. He was a mean, tough motherfucker, and one hit from his huge fist and you were out. "That was fast, brother."
He grinned. "I was five minutes away when Tanner called." He looked toward the hospital bed, his grin fading. "Damn." That was an understatement. "I won't leave her side," he promised in a serious tone. He glanced down at Ginger. "And who's this pretty lady?"
"Ginger," she said as I pulled her to her feet. "Nice to meet you."
"Same here."
"Thank you for coming. Della is my best
friend, we're sisters really." There was an emotional tremble in her voice.
"Don't mention it, sweetheart. Anytime."
I knew that Gabe meant it, but I didn't like the look of interest in his eyes when they were on my woman. I wrapped my arm around Ginger, feeling the need to show him that she was mine. The smirk and knowing gleam in his eyes revealed that he'd gotten the message loud and clear. No other words were necessary. His slight nod satisfied me.
"Did Tanner fill you in?" Gabe nodded brusquely. "No one but her nurse and doctor get into this room. You call me for any reason."
"Got it, brother."
I steered Ginger out of the room and out to my bike.
We'd grab a bite to eat, and then head home.
And then I was going to fuck her brains out.
Chapter 23
Ginger
For the first time in as long as I could remember I was glad to let someone take over and make the decisions for me. I was emotionally exhausted and slightly brain dead from too much happening in such a short time. Rebel's presence was a peaceful balm that soothed more than one need. He was taking care of me. I recognized it because he'd done the same thing when we'd first met. I hadn't recognized it then, I’d been too frightened by being thrown into a situation that was beyond my control. But looking back, I understood that he'd taken care of me then, too, in the only way that he could.
Why? I decided the only way I was going to find out was if I simply asked him. We'd stopped at a small country kitchen, the kind that was known more for the food then ambiance, and was open all night. We'd just settled into one of the worn vinyl booths and had ordered our food. I was watching the waitress walk away when Rebel reached across the table and snagged my hand.
Our gazes met and held. His strength and his concern for me registered in his sapphire eyes, the tautness of his jaw, and the firmness of his lips. There was something else there, too, but it was hard to identify what exactly it was. His thick hair brushed against his shoulders, long enough for him to pull it back with a tie if he'd wanted to. I wanted to run my fingers through it, I wanted to smooth my hands over his rugged features to draw from his strength.
"Why are you doing this, Rebel? Why are you taking care of me?" Please, God, I silently prayed, don't let him say that it’s because I owe him money. I wanted him to have feelings for me, the same feelings that I had for him, even though I wasn't sure what those feelings were just yet. I only knew that he was important to me and that I wanted him in my life.
He took a long time to think about his answer. Leaning against the backrest of the booth, he exhaled a deep breath and released my hand. This was not a good sign in my book. I swallowed the disappointment and schooled my features to hide how devastated that small move had left me. I forced a tiny smile on my lips, hating myself when I couldn't control the tremble.
"Because I owe you money?" There, I'd said it, but I could see right away that my comment had angered Rebel, and I was suddenly glad that he wasn't holding my hand any longer. I could almost feel him squeezing it hard enough to cause me pain. I felt the need to apologize, but then reminded myself that owing him money was the only thing we really had between us.
Apart from smoking hot sex.
The muscle twitched in his clenched jaw, and it was obvious that he was struggling not to lose control. "Forget about the money. It's not about that."
"What else is there?" I found the courage to ask.
He leaned forward so fast that a frightened gasp escaped me, and I sank back against my own booth. "I'll tell you what else, angel--ever since the first fucking day you entered my life, there's been something about you that I haven't been able to forget. You are so sweet, so tempting, and so fucking pure. I wanted to claim you and keep you as mine alone from the moment I met you. Taking your cherry . . . it did something to me, knowing that I was the first man inside your tight pussy. I owned it. And the more I fucked you, the more I became addicted. I helped you escape because you were mine and no one else was going to touch you, especially not Wildman's sick fucks."
"That doesn't explain why you're going to so much trouble to help us now." Including Della in the mix made it easier to say the words.
I wasn't expecting the sexy grin to move across his face. "Oh, baby, it explains everything. Seeing you again, tasting you, it's like the years apart never happened. You're mine, angel, and I take care of what's mine. That includes the people who are important to you."
The waitress appeared with our hamburgers and fries. I made sure that she was far enough away before asking, "What happens when you leave?" I began to nibble on a fry, dreading his answer.
"What makes you think I'm leaving?" he asked around a crooked grin.
I shrugged. "You're a nomad, Rebel, isn't that what nomads do?" I took a bite of my burger, moaning with pleasure around the mouthful of juicy meat. I was suddenly ravenous.
"I admit that I hadn't come here with the intention of staying, but Daytona is my hometown, and being a nomad now, I think I'd like to have a place to come back to when I'm in between jobs." He took a huge bite of his burger, but his eyes remained on me. "I’d like to have someone waiting for me here."
Wow. The hope that his words gave me quickly went from thrilled to misery as I reminded myself that Rebel was a hard-core biker and lived like one. He wasn't the kind of man to settle down. Sure, he wanted some place to return to in between jobs, but that didn't mean that he wanted a family. He wanted a woman to relieve his sexual needs, and any woman could do that for him.
"As opposed to ‘someones’?" The bitter words were out before I could stop them. I knew enough about MCs to know what went on in them. There were club girls and groupies who hung around bikers for the thrill of being with them, and made themselves available for whatever the bikers wanted. Being a nomad meant that he was welcomed at most MCs, and I was sure that he took advantage of that perk.
"Baby, I’m sure you’re hinting at the existence of club whores. Yeah, they're a part of my life." Are, not were. "They're there because they want to be, no one forces them to do anything. They keep the men stress-free and happy."
"With sex," I clarified with disgust.
I wanted to slap the grin off his face. "Can you think of a better way to provide relief?"
Nothing else came to mind, but I wasn't going to respond to that. Instead, I focused on finishing my meal, and Rebel seemed content in doing the same. Every so often our eyes met, but I was always the first one to look away. I couldn't stop myself from thinking about him with those other women. I didn't want to think about it, but it was an all too easy visual that conjured up in my mind. I hated the image, along with the jealousy that reared its ugly head over the thought of him touching, kissing, and fucking countless women, giving them pleasure in the same way he gave it to me.
I wanted to be the only one.
The waitress came back and asked with a polite smile, "Would either of you like anything else?"
"No, thank you," I said, pushing my plate aside.
Rebel finished his beer and set the glass down. "Just the check."
She ripped off the top sheet on her pad and placed it on the table. "I'll take it when you're ready." She started to turn around.
"I'm ready now." Rebel got to his feet, picking up the check and glancing at it at the same time. He dropped it and a couple of twenties down on the table, never taking his eyes off me. "You ready?"
I wondered what he would do if I said no, but I was too tired for games. I slipped my hand into his and let him pull me from the booth. We walked wordlessly to his bike.
"Baby."
I turned to him just as I was about to get on his bike. A gasp escaped me when he picked me up and sat me down on the leather seat. He nudged my knees apart and moved between them, running his fingers through my hair. The pressure against my scalp felt wonderful, and I didn't even try to stifle the sound of pleasure moving up my throat.
Rebel groaned. "You make a sound like that, and it goes straight
to my dick."
I made it again. "What do you think it does to me when you touch me like this?" He pulled my head back and placed his lips against my throat. I knew, after our conversation, that I should have pushed him away, but I needed this.
I needed him.
"This isn't why I stopped you," he began, raining kisses along my flesh. "I wanted to tell you something."
"So who's stopping you?" I arched my throat, the feel of his teeth grazing my flesh causing me to shiver. My breath caught, and my nipples hardened into achy peaks. God, I wanted him to touch them.
I wanted more.
"I can't help myself." He transferred his hands to my hips, squeezing them tightly. "You're too damned hard to resist."
"Like those other women?" God, I sounded so pathetic. Rebel stiffened and slowly drew back to look into my eyes as I let my head fall forward. He wasn't angry, though. If anything, he appeared to be amused. "Forget that I said that. I don't know what's wrong with me."
That made him smile even more, revealing the whiteness of his teeth in the dark. "Angel, you're nothing like those other women. They're whores, and not the kind of women a man chooses to make a life with. They like having sex and they spread themselves around to keep the men happy. They don't expect love and marriage, and I don't have to worry about attachments."
"How sad and lonely," I murmured. His brow rose, as if he were questioning my comment. "And you're content with that? No emotions, just sex? Don't you want love?"
"I gave up on love a long fucking time ago," he said with a bitter inflection in his voice. "Tried it, it didn't work out. It taught me that this life isn't the kind that allows for long-term commitments that include white picket fences and babies."
I was curious. "Then why do you choose this kind of life, Rebel?"
He didn't hesitate. "It's all I know, baby. I got caught stealing a car when I was sixteen, spent some time in kiddy jail, met the son of a biker, and we became friends. Went right into prospecting for his dad's club when I got out, and three years later I was a patched member."
Ruthless (Nomad Outlaws Trilogy Book 1) Page 18