Page 11 of Ruger
“Are you forgetting that you and I are the same, Blade?” I shoot back. Then, before he can say anything else, I take a deepbreath and try to get my head back to a level place. “Look, I’m not hurting her, and I’m not forcing her. You told me to protect her, and I will. You know that. I wouldn’t do anything to her that she doesn’t want.”
My words hang between us. The only sound is the crackle of the line and the movement of other inmates in the background. If it weren’t for that, I’d assume he hung up on me.
Honestly, I can’t say I’d blame him if he did.
Finally, he speaks, saying, “And you won’t do anything with her or to her ever again.”
I stay quiet, my stomach dropping. I want to argue, to tell him that she’s an adult and can make her own decisions. I’ve already betrayed his trust and the chaplain’s. So, effectively, by sleeping with Marigold, I’ve let the entire MC down. I’m not going to let her go, I’m going to fight for her, but now is not the time to bring that up.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Blade says, his voice cold. It’s the same voice I’ve heard him use when we’re dealing with our rivals or with criminals. I’ve never been on the receiving end of it. “You’re going to take Marigold and all of her things back to our house. And you’re not going to contact her anymore. You’re not going to visit her. Actually, you’re not even going to think about her.”
“Understood,” I grit out, already trying to figure out how to circumvent his rules.
“Good.” There’s a noise on the other end I don’t recognize. I think I hear him talking to someone else, then he returns his attention to me. “Now, I’m going to hang up and give the chaplain a call. I’m going to make sure there are guys keeping an eye on the house to make sure Marigold is safe andthat you aren’t there. It’s fuckin’ obvious I can’t trust anyone to be alone with her.”
“Understood,” I repeat, but I doubt he hears it. Before the words are even out of my mouth, the line goes dead.
I stand there, staring at the vehicles in the back lot. For a while, my brain stays empty, buzzing as I process the quick conversation. I’ve never been scolded like that by anyone in the MC before. It’s a lot to take in.
Finally, my mind starts to work again.
Blade has never been known for making good decisions when he’s upset. That’s the whole reason he got locked up. He’s a good guy, but he’s a fucking hothead. This decision that he’s making is the same kind of knee-jerk reaction he had that got him caught by the police.
He’s putting Marigold in danger because he’s upset over what happened between us.
Taking a deep breath, I start to put together a plan. I can’t just keep Marigold at my house. If Blade is going to our chaplain, defying his orders means defying the MC. I’m already in hot water there, so anything further could just make things worse for me.
If I get any sort of disciplinary action, that could only put Marigold in more danger. I might have been instructed to leave her alone, but I’m still committed to keeping her safe. Protecting her is my top priority, and that means from here on out, I have to be careful in my actions.
With a sigh, I head back inside the garage. I need time to figure out how I’m going to approach this. I make a plan the only way I know how, with my hands dirty and under the hood of a vehicle.
Chapter 8
Marigold
I don’t want to get off the back of Ruger’s bike when we get to my place, but I don’t have a choice. It’s not just me and Ruger. There’s another member of the Riders of Retribution idling on his bike and watching the two of us. I don’t even get the chance to give him a goodbye kiss.
So, I squeeze my arms around him one last time before swinging my leg off his motorcycle. Then, I walk to the other member, who hands me my bag, and I head up to the front door of my empty home. With one last look at Ruger, I slide my key into the lock and let myself inside. And, as soon as the door closes behind me, I hear their bikes leaving.
The silence is absolutely deafening once the roar of motorcycle engines dies. For a while, I just stand in the entryway, taking in the living room. It’s untouched since I cleaned it up the day my brother was sent to prison.
Normally, Blade’s things would be strewn around the room. He was guilty of kicking his boots off in the middle of the floor and leaving nearly-empty cans of beer and soda on the coffee table. I never minded, though. It was signs of life, signs that there was love in this house. We were a family before he left.
When Blade was here, the house was never quiet like this. When we weren’t talking, he made his presence felt with the constant background noise of television or classic rock albums. Even when we went to sleep, he had fans roaring.
Now, I think I could hear a pin drop from the other side of the house.
I sigh as I shuffle my way to my bedroom, my duffle bag on my shoulder. Honestly, it’s my fault that I’m back in this silent home. That thought makes me feel even worse.
I pause for a moment. It feels almost like I’m being watched.
That’s just my paranoia, though. Blade put all these ideas in my head when he left. He was worried that I’d be some sort of target for his rivals. I don’t think that he’s right, but without someone else here, I let his fear permeate my body.
I wish that I had another confidant. It’s not like he forbade me from befriending women. I’ve just always felt like he and I had a connection that was deeper than any sort of friendship I could forge with someone else. So, I always had surface level friendships with other people and considered Blade my best friend.
I just never realized that there were things that I couldn’t share with him.
When he called me this morning, he asked how things were going at Ruger’s. And it’s not like I came right out and said that I slept with Ruger. Instead, I told him that I liked Ruger, that he was a really nice guy. Apparently, my brother knows me too well.
