Page 45 of Ruined

My heart picked up pace in my chest. River—the man that I was pretty sure I was gaining feelings for. The man who hadn’t judged me when he’d saved me.

His words rang in my head on repeat.Live for me.

“Where are you going?” I asked Tristan.

“Joey needs me at his club for a few days to deal with an inside problem.”Joey. Oh, God, I fucking missed him. “He knows you’re back, but he asked me not to bring you—not until he dealt with this problem.” I frowned, my mood dimming again. “He’ll come to see you when shit is taken care of on his end.”

I sat up, shaking my head as I held the sheet around my chest, hiding my body from Tristan, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “I’m capable of taking care of myself, Tristan. I want to come with you.” I wanted to see Joey. Ineededto see the one man who’d been my rock without question.

Tristan shook his head. “Out of the question, Addy,” he told me, his voice stern.

I glared at him as I slid out of bed, beginning to slide my clothes back on. I didn’t even give a fuck that he was staring at me. I was angry. Furious.

Joey’s words whispered through my head.Hold me with you.

Well, Joey, I really fucking need you right now, and you’re not letting me hold you here with me.

“Try and stop me,” I snapped at Tristan as I tugged my jeans up my legs.

“That a challenge, Addy?” Tristan asked, quiet anger in his voice.

I tilted my chin up at him, a defiant gesture that I knew Tristan both loved and hated. “I’m coming with you, Tristan.”

He snatched my shirt from my hand, tossing it onto the bed. I swallowed thickly as he took a step closer to me. Fear spiked in my veins, but I hid it from him. I would not cower in front of him. “I’ll be damned, Addy.”

“And I’ll be damned if I’m going to be kept a fucking prisoner in this mother fucking clubhouse,” I snapped back at him. I’d been a prisoner long enough. I wouldnotbe one now.

“For the love of all that is holy, Addy, why the fuck is it always so fucking hard for you to justlistento me?!” he shouted.

I clenched my jaw and shook my head, backing down. “Fine,” I snarled, giving in and stepping back from him. That was what he wanted, right? For me to be a good old lady and shut my fucking mouth?

He sighed. “Addy—” he started, his tone softening, but I shook my head, hating him at that moment.

Trapped. I was always fuckingtrapped.

“I saidfine, Tristan!” I shouted at him, snatching the shirt off the bed and pulling it over my head.

I stormed out of his room, shutting his room door shut behind me with a resounding slam that rattled the walls and silenced all of the voices in the clubhouse.

“Adelaide, it’s getting dark.” River stated as he stepped out of the garage office from where he’d been sorting through some of the books. His long legs carried him over to where I was currently working on a junk bike, trying to keep my mind off of the shit that I was always buried in. “I think it’s time to call this quits until tomorrow, darlin’.”

My heart rate quickened at the sound of that familiar term falling from his lips. I had noticed he never called any of the other women that name. Almost as if he reserved it solely for me.

Stupidly, it made me feel special. Special to him. And fuck, Ineededto feel special tosomeone.

“Don’t want to be out here, River, then go on inside,” I snapped at him. I needed to work on this bike. Keeping my hands and mind busy was vital to my sanity.

If I didn’t, I was going to self-destruct.

He sighed, opening the fridge in the garage and grabbing a beer. “I can’t leave you out here, darlin’. You know that. Strict instructions from the president himself,” he reminded me, though he sounded sour about following orders. River had always struck me as the kind of man that ran by his own book. It always shocked me that he was a member of a club and not its president.

I looked up at him. “You ever thought about telling your president to shove his fucking commands up his ass?” I questioned seriously.

River barked out a laugh, his blue eyes glinting with humor. “Numerous times, darlin’, but that’s not something you do if you don’t want a damn good ass beating to remind you of your place.”

I snorted. “You ever get sick of playing babysitter?”

He shrugged. “Zyla got on my nerves a lot,” he confessed, “but you’re a breath of fresh air, darlin’.”

---