Chapter Eight

Penny

This is not how I imagined meeting my boyfriend's family, with my hands cuffed, sitting at a police station.

"Miss Moore, my name is Wilson Hile. I'm Ray's older brother."

I nod. I remember him. He was there when the cops arrested me. He and four other guys had to physically hold Ray back to stop him from attacking the cop who slapped the handcuffs on me. Even the threats of arrest did nothing to calm the man down.

Unlike my hot mechanic with his long wild hair and strong personality, Wilson is the complete opposite. His short hair is neatly combed and styled, not a strand out of place, and he is wearing a two-piece suit that looks like it cost a fortune. His eyes are blue, like his brother's, but icier. There is something terrifyingly cold about Ray's brother, and it sends a chill rushing down my body and not in a good way.

Not in the way Ray does.

Even without knowing this man, I can tell he's dangerous, but since he's Ray's brother, I decide to trust him.

I slide my hands into the sleeves of Ray's shirt and imagine it's him hugging me. Christ, I want to see him. Will I ever see him again?

"They're sending me to jail, right?" I ask Wilson, horrified by the idea. "How many years do you think I'll be in for? Ten?"

Wilson's mouth twitches, but I wouldn't exactly call it a smile. "You're not going to jail."

"But I—" I hesitate, dropping my voice. "I stole the car. He left his keys in the car, and I just took it."

"You are being charged with grand theft auto for taking the car without permission from your stepfather," he tells me. "Jonah is willing to drop the charges under one condition."

I know I'm not going to like what he says, but I ask anyway. "What does he want?"

"That you return home with him." I freeze. "He says your mother has been worried sick about you. He will drop the charges if you agree to go home with him."

My mouth opens and closes again when no words come out. I close my eyes and bury my nose in Ray's shirt, letting his scent ground me. "I . . . No, I will not go back with him," I tell Wilson. "I would rather go to jail."

"I figured you would say that," Wilson says. "One more thing. Does Ray know the car was stolen? If he knew about the theft, it makes him an accessory to the crime, and he could be charged for that."

My eyes widen in alarm, and I shake my head frantically. "No, Ray has no idea I stole the car. He doesn't know anything about it. I . . . I didn't tell him anything."

Wilson does that thing with his mouth again as if I just made a joke, but I don't get it. "All right then, Miss Moore, let's get you out of here."

I watch him get to his feet, and I follow up in panic. "Like, I'm going to jail?"

"No. Let's get you bailed out and back to my brother before he tears down the walls to this station."

"Wait—"

Wilson stops and turns to look at me, and I fight the instinct to shrink back. God, those eyes have an emptiness to them that can only exist in someone devoid of emotion.

"Yes?"

"Uh, I don't . . . I mean, you're a lawyer, right? Sorry, stupid question, considering they let you in, but can I ask how much you charge for your services?"

There's that empty, non-smile once more. "You cannot afford me, Miss Moore," he says, walking to the door. "But lucky for you, I don't charge family."

I follow Wilson out, and everything else happens in a flash. By the time I am reunited with Ray, I'm more than ready to get out of here. I find him pacing outside the station with multiple cops eyeing him. He has at least three men standing between him and the station, and he looks ready to kill someone. The veins in his forehead are popping and his mouth is set in a firm line, his fists clenched as if he's ready to punch through a wall, or preferably, my stepfather's face if he finds him.

He doesn't immediately notice me, so I stand there, watching the man pace like a caged animal. His hair is messy, perhaps from pulling on it. Heck, he looks like he's the one who was dragged out of the auto shop and into a police car and then tossed into a holding cell.

Is this what it feels like to be loved? To have someone care for you so much, they're ready to go to war for you?

No one has shown this much care for me since my father died. Well, my mother did before she lost the love of her life.

My hot mechanic looks like he's seconds away from murdering someone . . . for me.

The thought has me choking up, and my eyes fill up with tears. I look up and try to force them back, but they spill anyway. I swipe my cheeks with the back of my hand before looking down once more, and when I do, it's to find Ray staring at me.

If I thought my man was livid before, it's nothing compared to the fire burning in his eyes when they connect with mine. It takes him mere seconds to reach me, his hands cupping my cheeks and wiping the tears before he shifts his hard eyes to Wilson, who's standing behind me.

"What happened in there?"

"I suppose what you are trying to say is thank you."

"No, I want to know what they did to her in there. Why the fuck is she crying?"

"I'm fine," I whisper, unwilling to be the reason the siblings fight. I wipe the tears on my cheek before turning around to face Wilson. "Thank you for getting me out."

He nods once, and we both watch as he walks away. Ray and Wilson are so different, and if he hadn't told me they are related, I never would have pegged them for brothers. One appears clean-cut with his tailored suit, and another is messy with oil-stained jeans and unruly hair. They are like night and day. I find that I prefer day. I like the warmth I read in Ray's eyes.

I turn my attention to Ray, who's watching me with concern in his eyes. "Tell me, did anyone hurt you in there?"

I shake my head. "No, I'm fine."

"Your tears—"

"I'm just so happy to see you," I say, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and burying my face in his sturdy chest. "I was so scared when they took me away from you."

Ray rubs a soothing hand down my back. "It's fine. I'm here. You are safe. I will not let anyone take you away again."

I believe him. We were both blindsided by the cops showing up at the garage, but I believe him when he says he'll never let anyone take me away, and the truth is, I want to stay too. "Take me home," I whisper. I want to feel safe. The kind of safety I felt last night in bed with his arms wrapped around me and this morning when we were having breakfast. I need to feel that again.

"Let's go." Ray pulls back from the embrace and slides his hand into mine, and we start walking to the parking lot where he's parked his car. He goes to open the passenger door for me, but before he can, someone calls out to me, and I freeze.

I don't want to turn around and look.

I want to climb into the car and ignore the voice entirely, but I can't. It is the voice of the same person who read me bedtime stories when I was a little girl and made me pancakes every Saturday morning.

"Penny Moore," she calls out again, louder this time.

I slowly turn around to find my mother standing a few feet away from us, and she looks like she's aged a decade since I last saw her only a couple days ago. Standing beside her is the monster who almost ruined my life, and I quickly grab Ray's hand. My stepfather's eyes drop to our joined hands, and I watch as his expressions darkens.

"Who are you?" Ray asks, his voice hard, and I don't have to look up to know his expression is angry.

"Unhand my daughter this second!" My mother yells, stepping forward, but I step back, hiding behind Ray.

I notice my stepfather lay his hand on my mother's back, the same spot he placed his hand on me a few days ago before it "accidentally" slide to my ass. "See what I told you about your daughter. This is the kind of men she associates with. Men with tattoos who help her steal cars."

"That's not true, Ray is not that kind of a man," I call out, dropping my eyes quickly when my stepfather's shift to mine.

"Come here, Penny. We will talk about this when we get home."

"No," I say, pushing closer to Ray even though, at this point, I'm practically molded to the man's back. "I'm not going anywhere with you. I'm leaving with Ray."

My stepfather steps forward, and I notice a vein pop on his forehead. "Listen to your mother."

"Or what?" counters Ray. His muscles are tense, and I can tell he's seconds away from punching the man, so I tug at his hand.

"Let's go," I tell him, needing to be away from the two people who've made my life hell over the last year. One through his actions and the with her indifference. I'm not a child anymore, they cannot control what I do or who I do it with.

I tug Ray's hand once more and pull him back toward the car. His eyes don't leave them as he opens the door for me to climb in. He shuts it behind me, and with a last warning glance, walks to the driver's side.

I know better than to spare my stepfather a glance, and yet I do, and what I see in his eyes sends a chill running down my body. Those dark eyes carry a threat—a promise of punishment for daring to let another man touch me.

But he can't get to me. Not with Ray around.

Ray won't let him.

You belong to me, Penny. I'll take care of you. I'll protect you.

I hold on to that promise with everything I have.