Page 48 of Complete Me
I nod my agreement as Reid grips my thighs, lifting me effortlessly up off his lap as he stands with me in his arms. I loop my arms around his neck, my fingers threading through his long hair that’s escaped the elastic holding it back.
With one hand under my ass, Reid holds me impossibly close to him. The large front door is opened, and a rush of cool air blasts us. Hushed voices whisper around us, and instead of looking at my surroundings, at the people who are watching a man they all clearly know carry a random woman through their house, I bury my head into his neck.
“Reid, you can put me down.”
“Not gonna happen, sweetheart. Not until we’re in the safety of my bedroom.”
His bedroom? What the fuck is going on? Who is he? I know I should feel a plethora of emotions right now, fear being the most prominent after what I just survived, but I feel anything but while in his arms. He clearly has a hidden part of himself, but instead of being scared, I’m just confused and curious. No matter what he unveils to me, I know with utmost certainty, Reid would never harm me, and that’s thereason I stay safely in his arms and don’t drill him with questions.
His heavy boots echo off the cement floor as he walks in large strides through a huge open room. I keep my eyes downcast, my face buried in his neck, not wanting to take anything in this way. After taking a flight of stairs, another door creaks on its hinges as he steps us through a threshold. The room isn’t as cool as the rest of the house, but the warmth isn’t overly oppressive.
Reid gives me one more squeeze, as I feel him take a deep inhale of air before sliding me down his front and setting me on a large bed. I quickly close in on myself, bringing my legs up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. I’m still in nothing but a pair of shorts and my sports bra, but more than that, I just want the comfort of being held tight.
I miss his warmth and safety already, and it takes all my self-control not to reach for him.
Reid squats down on his haunches at the end of the bed, his hands gripping my hips and dragging me to the edge. Even with me sitting on the bed and him in a squat, he’s still taller than me, but it puts us a little more at eye level.
“I need you to know that you’re safe here. I would never knowingly put you in danger. This is probably the safest place in the world right now.”
“Okay . . . I trust you, Reid.”
His hand dwarfs my face as he pushes my hair behind my ear, eyes roaming all over my undoubtedly bruised cheekbone. “Good,” he says with a sad smile that nearly kills me.
“I can’t believe you came for me,” I blurt. Looking into the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen, eyes I wished to see again, it suddenly dawns on me that Reid saved me. The realization hits me with the force of a tsunami banking the shore, bringing with it a storm of emotions and unanswered questions.
“I’ll always come for you, Kinsey. Always.”
“But how? How did you find me?”
He just shakes his head, swiping his thumb back and forth against my cheek.
“We’re at the Hell’s Heathens clubhouse. Have you ever heard of them?”
“No, but in case you don’t remember, I’ve been ridiculously sheltered. They’re a motorcycle club?”
“Yes.”
“They called you Rogue. That’s the name of your shop.”
“It is. That’s also my road name.”
“Your . . . road . . . name,” I repeat slowly, processing what I’m putting together. Reid is in the Hell’s Heathens MC? How is that even possible? I pull up everything I know about him, and I quickly realize how little I know of his past. Everything I do know, though, doesn’t conjure images of a violent criminal motorcycle club member.
“My road name. Do you know what that is?”
“It’s clearly a nickname, right?”
“Of sorts, yeah. They’re given when you’re patched in, and they usually have some meaning behind them.”
“And you’re in an MC? Hell’s Heathens?”
He nods his head slightly, his face full of pain and sympathy as if this is the last conversation on earth he’d like to have. I’m not sure whether or not to take offense.
“Since I was eighteen. As much as I want to talk this through, it’s fuckin’ killin’ me not knowing if you’re okay, sweetheart, what they . . . what they could have done to you.”
My eyes pool with tears that start to spill over and trail down my face as images replay in my mind of being in that filthy room, the two men who kept coming in and harassing me. The things they threatened and did haunting me in perfect clarity.
“Look at those perky tits. That’s the first thing I’m gonna cut up. Run my knife over the tops until they spill with your blood. You see how hard it makes me?”
