21

Why the hell was she so interested in Sadist? Ruger watched Lurch walk away and wondered what was up. Krissi had teased him with her food until there was the imprint of his zipper on his cock. Now, while she sat on his lap, she was squirming and shifting, looking for another man and trying to get rid of him.

Was she really the spy Tuck feared she was? Was getting kidnapped and hurt just a part of their plan? Had they wanted to garner sympathy and protection? Was she using him to gather intel on the Souls? Ever question and doubt that popped into his mind only served to make him angrier. He was going to have to be careful what he said, not just to her but around her as well.

Mac ambled over and sat in the seat Lurch had vacated moments before.

“How's things going at the shop?” Ruger asked the older man. Mac was the shop manager and half owner, Ruger owned the other half. Not that he knew much about mechanic work, other than to care for his own bike, but Mac did and Ruger had had the funds when the shop had come up for sale. He kept out of the day to day operations for the most part and that worked for both. Ruger was busy with Drifters and Mac got to do things his way while still making them both money.

“No problems.” Mac pulled out a cigar and bit off the end. “We've been busy but that's good.”

“Good, good.” Ruger continued making small talk with Mac but most of his attention was on Krissi. She still sat in his lap but she wasn't as relaxed as she had been before she'd asked about Sadist. She was more tense and he couldn't decide if it was because she was worried about getting caught or if she was pissed because of how he'd reacted. What if she really had only been looking for a familiar face? Had he jumped all over her for something so innocent? How could he know for sure? He dropped his hand on her lower back and started to rub back and forth, almost absent minded as he continued to talk to Mac about nothing of consequence.

Krissi yawned and looked around taking in what has happening without saying anything or reacting. Ruger waited until the fourth time she yawned in under twenty minutes, then stopped rubbing her back and reached around and took her hand.

“I'm not sure when you got up but I've had about four hours sleep in the last thirty-six. I'm outta steam.” He looked up at her face. “The way you keep yawning, I'm guessing you are too.”

“I've only been up a couple hours. I shouldn't be so sleepy.” A small crease formed between her eyes as she gave him a confused look.

“You're hurt and sleeping is when your body heals the best.”

She looked at him a moment as if trying to gauge the truth of his words. Ruger saw as she fought the urge, but was unsuccessful and another yawn escaped. “Fuck it. Yeah, I'm ready for bed whenever you are.”

He couldn't resist a slight smile and kissed the back of her hand as a reward then turned back to Mac. “Well, I guess I'll catch you later.” He helped her up then stood. “You go on up and get ready. I'll be right behind you.”

Krissi nodded without looking at him and headed for the stairs. He watched until she reached the bottom of the stair case then took a bottle from behind the bar and turned to Tuck, who waved him over.

“What was that hubbub over there between you and the girl?”

“Not really sure. If she's here as a spy she may have screwed up, if she's not then I did.”

“Should I be concerned?” Tuck looked up at Ruger, the coin the flipped across his knuckles, glinting in the dim light.

“I don't think so, at least not yet.” Ruger's eyes scanned the room. “I'll figure it out and let you know.”

“See that you do.” Jake turned his attention to another of the brothers, dismissing Ruger in the process. Ruger took his bottle and headed upstairs, stopping to talk to one of the prospects for just a moment.

He pushed the door to his room open and found the room empty. A quick scan revealed a line of light leaking from beneath the bathroom door. The sound of running water let him know someone was in there. Since he knew none of his brothers would enter his space without checking with him first and the club whores knew better, it had to be Krissi. He set the bottle of tequila on the dresser and went to join her in the bathroom, but found the door locked.

Frowning he turned away, wondering what was wrong. Why would she lock him out? He picked the bottle up again, took a shot glass from the table and poured himself a drink. He threw the drink back and poured another, then sat staring at the liquid in the glass, wondering if he had screwed things up beyond repair.

The bathroom door opened. Ruger looked up and took in Krissi's posture and body language. He knew in an instant that something was wrong. She wore a long t-shirt and no pants, her shoulders were squared and movements stiff and abrupt. There was no doubt she was angry as she jerked back the blanket and sat on the edge of the bed.

Ruger wanted to say something, to break the tense silence between them but he didn't know what to say without making it worse. He tipped back the shot he'd poured and watched as she ignored him.

A knock sounded on the door.

Ruger stood and went to the door then turned back to Krissi. “That's probably Dumbass with your things. Do you want me to let him or just take it from him?”

Krissi swung her legs onto the bed and flipped the blanket over them, making him think she may not be wearing underwear. “Let him in.” She never looked at him and busied herself by adjusting the pillows and picking up the backpack she'd left next to the bed.

Ruger opened the door and stepped back, holding it open. “Put it all on the chair.” He watched the kid bring in a double arm load of her things and put them down. On his way out, Dumbass nodded once at Krissi.

“Ma'am.”

She looked at him and nodded but said nothing. Dumbass left and Ruger closed the door and flipped the lock, making sure that no one stumbled in on them, shit faced.

“The things you asked for and the books from the car.” Ruger waved a hand at the stuff filling the seat of the chair then picked up the bottle and his glass and went around to the far side of the bed. She got up and went to the chair, sorting through things and putting them “away.” She stacked the school books and her laptop on the dresser near where he'd put her phone the night before. Picking up the bag he'd put her toothbrush and the rest of her bathroom things in, she disappeared into the bathroom for a couple moments. When she returned she was still in her mood.

“Well,” he said, watching her, “you planning to hold it in all night or are you gonna let me have it so we can move on?”

She turned slowly and glared at him for about five seconds. “Do you really want to hear it here?” She lifted one brow.

“It's just the two of us, why not?”

She sighed and looked at him a moment before answering. “When I was growing up it didn't matter if they were alone or not. No one spoke back to my father in the club house. Not without severe consequences.”

“What do you mean by severe?”

“Well, there was one of his men when I was about 14 that Dad had both of his legs broken. And I can't remember the number of times he beat the shit out of my mom.”

“And did he lay his hands on you?” Ruger knew his voice had dropped low and menacing but he couldn't stop it.

“A few times, but I learned to keep my mouth shut and what not to say, ever.” She shrugged one shoulder.

“What did he do to you?” He knew it wasn't a good idea to ask, especially with the red haze already drifting over his vision but he had to know.

“Broke my arm when I was about 13. And my nose when I was 17 and told him I didn't want anything to do with him. He said some shit about if I was going to stick it in the air he would just break it for me.” She sat in the chair she'd emptied and watched him.

Ruger fisted his hands in his lap and forced himself to calm down. Anger over something long since over would do neither of them any good and it sure as hell wouldn't reassure her that she was safe with him or that she could tell him what was bothering her. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths as he tried to push away the rage at how her father had treated her. After a moment, he opened his eyes and deliberately relaxed his shoulders and the rest of his body.

“I will never do that to you. Never.” Ruger took a deep breath and fought to keep his voice low and soft. It was a struggle with the raw emotion rushing through him after the abuse she’d revealed. “In private you can say whatever you feel the need to. I will never, never do you that kind of harm. Even if you rip me a new one center stage in the middle of the clubhouse.

“I might get a little rough sometimes but I don't treat women like that, not if I can help it.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he struggled to maintain the calm exterior. “I'd appreciate it if you don't blast me in front of the others, but there's no need to wait until we're away from here. Any time it's just you and me, I want you to feel comfortable enough, safe enough to be yourself. And part of what makes me like you so much is that you don't take anybody's shit.” He scrubbed one hand over his face. “I like that about you.” Ruger poured another shot of tequila. “Want some?” he held the bottle up. She stared at him for several seconds then nodded.

“Yeah, give me some.” 

He reached across the bed for another glass, filled it and offered it to her. She pushed herself out of the chair and came to get it. Taking the glass, she threw the drink back, closed her eyes for a second as the liquid flowed down and hit her stomach then handed the glass back before sitting on the edge of the bed beside him.

He looked down at his hands and knew he had to tell her. He didn't want to go through the pain that this was going to stir up but after what he'd done tonight, she deserved to know more. He had to open up to her at least a little.

“You asked about my sister.” Ruger paused.

“I'm sorry about that. I didn't know.”

“No.” He rubbed the palm of his hand down the leg of his jeans. “I brought her up, if there's blame its mine. Anyway. We were close. Well, close when you consider we were almost four years apart.” He spoke in short, stunted sentences as he pictured her in his mind and an ache echoed through his chest. A toddler carrying around the doll he'd mentioned earlier. A little older with messy curls and a crooked smile.

“Our mom passed away when Ashley was six. I was ten. Dad didn't take it well so it fell to me to take care of her.” Ruger glanced up at Krissi but looked away quickly. He didn't want to see pity in her face. “Dad never did really recover from losing Mom. He started drinking and the more time went by, the more he drank. When alcohol wasn't enough anymore he moved on to something harder. He borrowed money and made promises to get the shit he was hooked on, but never followed through.

“When Ashley was fifteen, almost sixteen, the men Dad owed money to came looking for him. Ash was the only one at the house. They took her.” He took a deep breath and raked one hand through his hair, tugging it from the tie that kept it out of his face. “I came home and found their message. My dad was passed out on the floor. I have no idea how long they'd been gone with her or how long Dad was there before I got home.” He shook his head. Krissi laid a hand on his knee, he looked at it and kept going. “I found my dad's pistol and went after them but by the time I got there it was too late. She was already dead.” Ruger drew a ragged breath. “It wasn't an easy death.” He let his head hang as the memory of Ashley's naked body flashed through is mind. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

“Did you kill them?” Krissi’s voice was soft as she squeezed his knee. He didn't speak, he couldn't yet past the lump in his throat. “I can't blame you if you did.” There was sympathy in her voice and something more but he didn't think it was pity. After a long moment, and swallowing twice more, he laid one hand over hers on his knee and squeezed back.

“No, I didn't kill them. I wanted to. I won't deny that, but I didn't. I called the cops and they were still alive when the police got there. A little worse for wear but alive.” He looked at her, waiting. She looked up at him after a moment and met her gaze.

“They were alive?” Her surprise was clear on her face.

“Bloody and bruised, but no permanent damage.” He watched her. Several things flashed across her face but he couldn't identify them. She took a deep breath and let it out in a rush, some of the tension went out of her shoulders. She looked down at her lap then back at him.

“I'm here right now because you wanted me to stay here.” She started slowly. “If it were up to me, I would be at home, working on my homework. But I'm not. I'm missing class and work.” She looked away for a second them back at his face. “I'll tell you the same thing I told Gizmo earlier. I know women are basically possessions in your world. But a woman can stand on her own if she's strong enough. I will not be just another piece of club ass. I'm here because of you, not because of the bike or the club. I might have walked into Drifter's that first night because of the bikes outside but you are the reason I went back. If things don't work out between us, I won't be moving on to another of your brothers, I'll just be moving on.”

Ruger shook his head and looked down at his feet, regretting his harsh words and the doubts he'd had earlier. He knew he needed to say the words he didn't say often. “I'm sorry. I mentioned Ashley without thinking and then you asked about her. I didn't want to talk about her though. I just wanted it all to go away and I let it put me in a foul mood. I'm sorry I took it out on you. You didn't deserve it.” He looked up at her, hopeful.