Page 14 of Ruger
The motherfucker has the audacity to laugh. He’s damn near hysterical about it. I don’t know if it’s to throw me off or because he’s having a full-blown mental break in front of me. Either way, I keep my weapon trained right between his eyes, waiting for him to give me an answer.
“You’re going to blow my brains out anyway,” he says, a sour smile on his face. “You’ve got no fucking intention of letting me go.”
“At least you’re not completely stupid,” I note, taking a step forward.
“Just get it over with,” he spits. “See for your fucking self. There aren’t that many in there right now. We had a truck leave last week. We’re not losing that much money.”
I can’t stand his tone, the callous way he’s talking. So, I do it. I take the shot and put him out of his misery. He dies with a grunt and gurgle, blood pouring out of the back of his head.
“What the fuck kind of cryptic shit were you talking about?” I ask his corpse.
Without waiting for his lifeless body to answer I rush to the van. There isn’t any noise coming from back there, and it’s making me nervous. I know I’ve already killed these fuckers, but if anything, and I meananything, is wrong with Marigold, I’ve got some creative ideas for desecrating a corpse.
I wrench the back doors open to reveal my girl, my gorgeous, perfect, sweet Marigold, with a her wrists and ankles bound. Her head is covered with a black sack, and she’s slumped against the side. She seems almost lifeless until I bark out her name, panic and desperation coloring my voice.
“Ruger?” she asks, sounding a lot like she’s been crying. “Ruger, is that you?”
“It’s me, sweetheart,” I say as I run to her, pulling the bag from her head.
She blinks hard. Her eyes are red and puffy, making the green of her irises even more striking in the dim light. Thelong, red hair that I adore is a mess. She still looks absolutely breathtaking. And, more importantly, she looks uninjured.
“I was worried it was too late,” she admits as I take her face between my hands. “They– They took me so fast. I thought–”
I cut her off with a kiss, pouring all the emotions I don’t know how to articulate into it. Then, when I pull away, I say the truest words I’ve ever uttered.
“I love you, Marigold. I love you so much. I will go to the ends of the earth to protect you.”
“Ruger,” she breathes, before inhaling sharply, the weight of my words settling over her. “Ruger, I love you, too. I love you more than anything.”
“Good,” I reply, kissing her again before leaning back and taking out my pocket knife. “Now, let’s get you out of those, okay?”
Marigold nods, allowing me to cut her free of her binds. When she’s loose, I check her over, ensuring there isn’t any damage. The only thing I find is some minor bruising around her wrists, and even though that breaks my heart, I’m glad she’s not hurt.
“Okay,” I say, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist, my mind going back to the warehouse we’re parked outside of. “There’s something I need to check out, and I need you to stay here.”
“Alright,” she says, trusting me implicitly.
It only makes me love her more.
“I’m serious. Don’t leave this van until I come back.”
“I won’t,” she promises. I take that as my cue to turn around and leave the vehicle. As my boots hit the ground, she says, “Be safe, Ruger.”
“For you, always,” I reply before steeling myself for whatever I’m about to find inside.
Chapter 10
Marigold
Ruger’s gone for a long time. A suspiciously long time. Anxiety twists painfully in my gut with each passing minute. I have no idea where we are or what it is that he needed to check out so urgently, but I’m aware that it can’t be good if he told me to stay here.
No matter how badly I want to go and check that he’s okay, I stay put. I curse myself for dropping my phone instead of putting it in my pocket. At some point, I’m going to have to start coming up with a plan for what I’ll do if he doesn’t come back. I’m fairly certain that the keys are still in the ignition of this van, so if all else fails, I’ll drive back to Rio Lunas. If I go to the MC’s clubhouse, someone there will know what to do.
I shift slightly, stretching my legs out as I strain my ears for any sign of what’s going on outside. That’s when I hear a low rumble in the distance. I’m not sure what it is at first, and my anxiety only spikes higher. Then, I recognize it.
Motorcycles.
There’s a part of me, a pessimistic part that awakened when I had a bag put over my head and was bound and thrown into the back of a van, that worries that it’s the Apex Runners. That part of me is small, though. In my heart, I know that it’s the Riders of Retribution.
