Chapter Nine

F rom the back corner of the building, Rachel watched the door to the Havlin Motorcycle Club clubhouse. Sometime tonight, Ruger would have to come out to have a cigarette, and then she'd be able to see and talk with him.

A Havlin member started his motorcycle. Rachel stepped around the corner and pressed against the building, staying out of the light from the streetlight. She would've called him, but he never put his phone number in the cell he'd given her.

But with that phone, she could call an Uber driver to bring her to Seaglass Cove instead of stealing a car.

She also was able to have food delivered to her door.

All of that was done with the money Ruger gave her.

She still hadn't heard anything from her brother. Corbin stopped every couple of days, asking if she needed anything. She could tell by the way he asked that he expected her to go and get groceries by herself.

Even though Ruger wasn't with her, he continued to care for her. She used his money little by little, trying to stretch it as far as she could because she wasn't ready to go out and get a job yet.

The headlight of the motorcycle lit up the alley. She sucked in her breath and held still as the rider rode past her. It wasn't against the law to stand outside of the club. She was on public property within the city limits.

She came because it was Friday night. A night when the Havlin members partied. From her time in the clubhouse, she'd watched Ruger go out and get a drink or go out and have a cigarette when parties were happening inside.

Moving around the corner of the building, she stopped where she could keep the door in view.

When Ruger first took care of her at the clubhouse, she'd clung to him because he represented safety. He'd more than taken care of her. He'd saved her life.

He still made her feel safe, but she missed him. Missed him more than she could verbalize. Every second was made up of thinking about him. She wanted to know where he was, what he was doing, who he was thinking about.

Not being near him made her ache, and for how much she tried to tell herself it was because she was safe with him, it was more.

She'd never known another person to the level she knew Ruger.

During the time she was kidnapped, she dealt with every bodily function while handcuffed next to him. She'd felt every kick and punch he'd taken to protect her. After a while, Ruger started to talk about his life. She got to know Katrina through her dad. He'd mentioned his time in prison and learning about his baby sister, who he hadn't known existed until right before Ruger found her.

She'd clung to his stories. They were real to her. More real than her life, where she pretended Shady was always there for her—he was in prison. And that the people who kidnapped her were never coming back.

Even standing outside the clubhouse in the middle of the night was more comfortable than sitting alone in the apartment with Knight— short for knight in shining armor. She'd named the cat after Ruger, who swept in and rescued her from an impossible situation.

Men in her life weren't heroes. Ruger was a different breed.

The backdoor swung open. The music grew louder until the door shut again. In the light, she spotted Ruger lighting a cigarette.

Rachel's stomach fluttered. She'd had boyfriends before. Three, to be exact. None of them ever made her excited, nervous, afraid, and happy simultaneously. The constant state of emotions made her feel more fragile.

She inched closer. Now that he was in view, she wasn't sure about approaching him. Maybe he was enjoying the night with one of the women that hung around the clubhouse.

Her stomach rolled, making her nauseous. She hated the idea that he was involved with someone else.

Standing close enough for him to see her but not invading his space while he had a cigarette, she watched him. He blew the smoke into the air and kept his gaze away from everyone outside.

The others talked in small groups, but nobody came over to Ruger. He also made no move to join them.

She'd learned fast that he was a loner. That surprised her, going off how much he loved his daughter.

She took a few more steps and stopped. Maybe he'd get angry having her show up out of the blue. Raking her teeth over her bottom lip, she wavered. She had an excuse. She could tell him how Knight was doing.

She walked forward. Ten feet from him, he turned his gaze on her and stopped her from advancing.

He growled. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I came to thank you," she whispered. "For Knight. The kitten."

"You already thanked me."

Maybe she had. She couldn't remember. He'd shocked her, coming over and gifting her with a kitten. No one had ever done that for her.

Sure, there were gifts from her dad when he was alive for her birthday and Christmas, but she also knew those things were stolen and belonged to someone else first. No one had ever given her something to love and care for.

She had never had a pet before.

"How are you?" she asked.

"How did you get here?"

He'd ignored her question. She squared her shoulders. "Uber."

He looked over her head. She stepped closer. From that distance, she could smell the smoke from his cigarette and the leather from his vest. The two scents mingled nicely and made Ruger smell better than any other man she'd ever met.

"Are you sleeping?" She moistened her lips. "You look tired."

Many times when they were sleeping in the same bed, she'd catch him wide awake, staring up at the ceiling as if the world weighed heavily on his mind.

"I'm fine." He glanced at her. "You?"

She shook her head and then shrugged. "I get up each day and don't give up."

Those were the exact words he told her every night when they were chained in the basement, and she struggled to sleep. She'd kept to her promise, determined not to let him down. Because if they were both to survive, she needed to stay strong.

His intense gaze never left her. She held her breath, needing him more than he would ever know.

He shifted slightly and lifted his broad arm, opening himself up to her. She walked into his embrace and threw her arms around his middle, holding on for dear life. The swift relief that came over her weakened her, and she held on tighter.

"You're going to make it out of this shit stronger than you were going in, Rachel. Just get up each day and don't give up," he murmured.

Her eyes closed, wishing they were alone in the clubhouse room again and wondering if it'd ever be like that again when it was just the two of them.

Several minutes later, he patted her ass. "I'll take you home."

She wanted to beg him to let her stay, but she had Knight to care for. Letting him take her hand and lead her to his motorcycle, she wanted to be brave. She wanted to be strong.

Inside, she felt the exact opposite.