Page 4 of Ruger

"Type shit."

He turned to me. "You done with your tantrum?" he coolly asked.

I rolled my eyes. "Where is my brother? I'm not going any further until I see him. I don't know you. You could be a serial killer."

"Could be." He smirked.

"You heard what I said."

"Listen, Mona Lisa, I don't have time for your stubbornness. You won't be seeing your brother until this shit blows over. Now, let's go." He walked away, heading toward the elevators. I didn't move. "Either you walk, or I carry you. Make your choice, Mona."

"My name isn't no freaking Mona. It's Kenzi!"

"Good to know. Now, let's roll," he instructed, continuing to the elevators. "Got me out here doing this stupid shit." He whispered the last part, but I heard him loud and clear.

I finally moved toward the elevators.

"No one told you to save me. I called for my brother," I sassed, stepping on the elevator behind him. Even that was plush.

He didn't respond as the car ascended to the fourth floor. Once it opened, I was greeted with nothing but pure beauty. I mean, my apartment was nice, but the layout of this loft was everything a girl could ever imagine. The red oak flooring, the white-washed cabinets and closet doors, the high ceilings, and the paintings were just the tip of the iceberg. As I moved further inside, I noticed a huge sectional that looked super comfortable, with an ottoman in the center of the room. There was an entertainment center with what looked to be a movie projector screen hanging from the brick wall. There were plants placed strategically around the area, and the kitchen was an open concept of what looked to be a chef's haven.

I watched as he walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge and the cabinets.

"The kitchen is stocked if you're hungry. I'm going to have someone bring you some clothes so that you can shower or whatever."

"Wait... How long do I have to stay here? I have work, and I have class. I can't be held hostage here," I protested.

"You and your brother probably should have thought about that before y'all went causing all this trouble."

"I didn't do anything but go to fucking Target to get more school supplies!"

"Then got harassed, ran and told your brother, he retaliated, and you got snatched."

"I'm his sister! He's supposed to defend me."

"He didn't play it smart, and now, here you are."

"I can't stay here, mister. It's a nice place, but I can lose my job and get kicked out of school if I don't show up. Please. I need my job to pay for my class!"

"Aye, today ain't the day for me to be irritated. All that fucking yelling you doing ain't gon' get you nowhere with me. Y'all pissed off a rival gang of bikers who could give less than a fuck about ya job or school. Grue knew he should have come to me once he got word that they fucked with you, but he didn't. He always thinks irrationally, and now I have to fix what the fuck he's done."

"Why? He can take care of himself."

"I'm sure he could, but where does taking care of himself leave you?"

When I didn't reply, he continued.

"Right. In the hands of niggas who were more than likely going to rape and kill you." He headed toward the elevator and pushed the button as it opened. "I'll have someone come by and get you together. In the meantime, call ya job and make arrangements with your school until I figure something out. The landline is over on the table in the corner. I'll be back to check on you in a few days."

"Wait! A few days?"

He nodded. "Two tops."

"Wait... What is your name?" The doors began to close as he looked at me, crossing his arms in front of him.

"Ruger," he responded, then he was gone.

"How long do I have to stay here, Ghana?" I asked my brother as I sat on the couch with my legs crossed.

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