Ant
She was curled against his side, one leg tangled with his, her breath warm against his chest. The room was dark except for the faint glow of the alarm panel across the hall. His home was quiet and safe, but how long would it stay that way?
He brushed a slow hand down her back, careful not to wake her, but needing the contact. It was as if he needed to reassure himself that she was real. That last night hadn’t just been adrenaline and proximity and fear bleeding into something hotter.
A faint smile tugged at his mouth. “Didn’t know that was possible.”
“It is when your chest feels like a brick wall because you’re not relaxed,” she said, propping herself up on one elbow, studying him. She wasn’t wearing any makeup. She was stripped of her armor. She was just Ruby with him—not the doctor or the dancer, and he liked seeing her this way.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” she asked.
He hesitated but eventually decided to go with the truth. “I don’t like that I dropped my guard and let that asshole touch you.”
Her expression shifted, and he worried that he had said something that might offend or upset her. “But I didn’t let him touch me,” she said. “Not the way that you’re thinking.”
“I know,” he said. “I just hate that he laid his hands on you at all. I should have been more on my game,” Ant insisted.
“But you stepped in and kept him from getting out of hand, both times,” she pointed out.
“Yeah,” he breathed, still not convinced that he did everything that he could have to prevent that guy from even getting into the club. She traced a slow line down his chest with her fingertip. It wasn’t seductive, but more sweet as though she was trying to calm him in some way.
“You’re angry,” she observed.
“Yeah, I am,” he admitted.
“At him?” she asked.
“Yes,” Ant breathed, wishing that they could just drop the subject. He shouldn’t have brought it up in the first place. He knew that she’d have questions, and he didn’t feel like answering them right now.
“Only him?” she continued. That was the question that he was trying to avoid.
Ant exhaled slowly. “I don’t get to be jealous of your past. We only just met. Hell, up until a few days ago, you hated me. But I wish that I could remove every man who ever touched you before I did.”
Ruby’s eyes softened. “That’s not what this is.”
“Then what is it?” he asked.
She leaned closer, her voice low but steady. “It’s you realizing that you care—about me.” The word landed heavily between them. Did he care about her? He couldn’t deny that he did, but telling her that wasn’t something that he was ready to do.
He brushed his thumb along her jaw. “I don’t like the idea of anyone thinking they can take something from you that you don’t want to give. And I hate the idea of men looking at you up on that stage anymore.”
Her lips curved faintly. “You don’t get to decide who looks at me, Ant. I don’t dance for them,” she said. “I dance for the paycheck and the money that they toss on stage. It’s how I pay my college loans, and I won’t give it up.”
“No,” he agreed. “I can’t control who looks at you, but I get to decide what happens if they cross a line. And if you’re not giving up dancing, then I won’t give up bouncing. I’ll be right there, every night that you are, waiting to take down anyone who tries to cross the line with you.”
She searched his face again, as though she was trying to make sure this wasn’t control disguised as protection.
“You can’t fight every man in the world,” she said gently.
“I don’t need to,” he replied. “Just the ones who come near you.”
Silence settled between them—thick, charged, and intimate. She leaned in first this time. The kiss wasn’t frantic like the night before. It was slower, deeper, and deliberate. It was as though she was claiming him, but it didn’t feel forced.
His hands slid to her waist, firm and confident. There was no hesitation this time. When she shifted over him, pressing her body against his, he let out a low groan against her mouth. The tension in him wasn’t anger anymore. It was heat.
Ant was quickly learning that possessive tension didn’t have to mean dominance. It could mean intensity. It could mean knowing what you wanted and not apologizing for it. His hand tightened at her hip just enough to make her inhale sharply.
“Ant,” she warned softly, but there was no real warning in it.
“You sure?” he murmured. Her answer was a kiss that stole the rest of the air from his lungs. This time, there was no hesitation. No uncertainty. Just the knowledge that they’d already crossed the line and neither of them was walking back.
He rolled, settling over her body. He was always careful with her, controlled even, the weight of his body on hers was deliberate.
She met his gaze without flinching, and when he kissed down her neck, she arched into him.
She was so responsive to him, it was almost like she was the perfect woman made just for him.
He didn’t rush, because he didn’t need to.
The tension between them had been building for weeks.
It wasn’t about proving anything to each other.
It was about claiming his space with her.
When she whispered his name again, not in her sleep this time, something inside him felt as though it sparked to life.
For the first time in a long time, he felt as though he belonged to someone.
When she lay against him again, he rested his chin against the top of her head. It felt so intimate and right to hold her that way—he never wanted to let her go. “You’re not alone anymore,” he said quietly.
She traced idle circles on his chest. “Neither are you,” she breathed.
That truth was heavier than any jealousy he had felt earlier.
Sure, outside, the world was still dangerous.
The man who thought she owed him was still out there somewhere.
But inside his room, the lines were clear.
Ruby wasn’t something to be bought. She wasn’t something to be taken.
And Ant wasn’t going to let anyone forget it—even if he had to become her personal bodyguard.
Ant knew the calm wouldn’t last. It never did. Ruby was still asleep when his phone vibrated across the nightstand. He moved carefully, easing out of bed so he wouldn’t wake her, and stepped into the hallway before answering.
“Yeah,” he said quietly.
Bolt didn’t bother with hello. “We got something,” he barked into the other end of the call.
Ant’s pulse sharpened instantly. “Tell me that you know where he is,” Ant demanded.
“We got a traffic cam hit in Montgomery on our guy, two days ago. He’s moving south,” Bolt said.
Ant ran his hand down his face; his mind already mapping routes, exits, and contacts in that area. “Is he alone?”
“Looks like it. But he’s switching vehicles every so often. He’s smart,” Bolt said. That might be, but Ant had a feeling that he was smarter than the asshole who tried to hurt Ruby.
“Not smart enough,” Ant muttered.
Bolt hesitated. “Are you going to tell Ruby?”
“No,” Ant breathed. He didn’t want her worrying about them catching the guy. When they had him in custody, Ant would fill her in then. Ant glanced back toward the bedroom door. Toward the woman who’d finally let her guard down in his arms.
“I’ll tell her when we have the guy in custody,” he said. “She deserves to know, but I won’t worry her with the details until then. Keep me informed. I’m not sure if I’ll be in or not today.” He didn’t want to leave Ruby, but he knew that sooner or later, he’d have to.
“Will do,” Bolt said, ending the call. Ant hung up and stood there for a second, trying to decide if he was doing the right thing, keeping Ruby in the dark. He had feelings for her, but danger didn’t pause just because feelings got involved.
When he walked back into the bedroom, Ruby was sitting up, sheet pulled around her body, watching him. “That wasn’t a casual phone call, was it?” she asked.
“No.” She didn’t ask him to lie. She didn’t look afraid, either.
“Tell me what’s going on, Ant,” she insisted.
He sat on the edge of the bed, trying to decide how much to share with her. He was betting that Ruby wouldn’t allow anything but the whole truth from him. “A traffic cam picked him up. He’s heading south and switching cars, trying to disappear.”
Ruby absorbed that quietly. “That means he’s running.”
“Yeah,” he said.
“Good,” she breathed.
Ant studied her face. “You’re not scared?”
“I was,” she admitted. “But scared doesn’t help the girls that he took.”
That hit him like a punch in the gut. “You’re thinking about them.”
“I can’t not think about them,” she said softly. “I keep wondering if they thought they could handle him, too.”
Ant reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers. “You did handle him.”
“With your help,” she reminded. “If you weren’t there, I don’t know what I would have done.”
He didn’t argue with her because he had read the guy’s rap sheet, and he was dangerous. If she had to go toe to toe with him, Ant knew that Ruby would be in over her head. He looked her over, noticing that there was a new steadiness in her now. She was shaking less and seemed harder.
“I want to help,” she said
“No,” he growled.
Her chin lifted. “Don’t shut me out, Ant. This is my life.”
“I’m not shutting you out, Ruby,” he replied evenly. “But you don’t go chasing him. That’s not your fight.”
Her eyes flashed. “He made it my fight.” The room felt like it was charged with tension.
Ant leaned closer, his voice low. “And I’m not losing you because you feel responsible for the other women that he kidnapped.”
“You don’t get to decide that alone,” she shot back. There it was again—this push and pull between protection and autonomy.
He exhaled slowly, reigning himself in. “Okay. Then we do this the smart way. You let me stick with you. I need you protected, that way if he’s watching, we’ll know. He won’t be able to get to you as easily.”
Ruby’s gaze narrowed. “You think he might come back?”
“I think men like him don’t like unfinished business,” Ant admitted.
Silence filled the bedroom, and then, she nodded. “Then I won’t be alone. I’ll follow your rules.”
“You won’t be alone, honey—ever. And thank you for that,” he said firmly.
She squeezed his hand. “And you won’t go off chasing him without telling me, right?” she asked. That made him pause. Chasing down the bad guys was his job. How could he tell her that he’d run his every move by her first?
“You don’t get to disappear either,” she added.
Possessive tension had shifted into partnership, and he respected that.
“Fine,” he said. “We move together. You know what I know, and I’ll know what you’re doing.”
Relief flickered across her face, and he brushed his thumb over her knuckles. “But if he resurfaces anywhere near you—”
“I call you,” she finished.
“And?” he asked.
“And I won’t try to handle him solo,” she promised.
“Good,” he breathed.
She leaned forward, pressing her forehead lightly to his. It wasn’t a romantic gesture this time. “Find him,” she whispered.
Ant felt something cold and focused settle in his chest. “Oh, I will,” he promised.
He stood, already mentally preparing, going over his contacts, routes, and old favors to call in. Bolt would be ready. Banshee would have eyes watching the clubhouse, and the net would tighten for them to catch this guy.
As he pulled on his boots, he glanced back at Ruby.
She wasn’t hiding anymore, and she didn’t seem scared.
That made this personal in a way that went beyond desire.
The man who thought she owed him something had made one mistake.
He’d gotten too close to Ruby, and that wasn’t acceptable because Ant didn’t lose people he cared about.