9. Angel
ANGEL
Aloud explosion of gunfire bursts erupts loudly outside of the club. Rogue dives onto the bed that’s been my home since arriving, pushing my head down into the pillow as the onslaught grows louder and louder before rolling me off the bed in his arms and onto the floor.
“Under the bed,” he growls, rolling me into place under the protection of the box spring and mattress.
Rogue grabs his piece from the back of his pants, checks the load and hands it to me. “Anyone but me or my men walk through this door, you shoot first, aim dead center in the chest and ask questions later. Understand that, Angel?”
I nod, in far too much shock to comprehend it all as he gets to his feet and gets to the door.
The click at the door tells me he’s locked me in and a stampede of boots hitting the stairs, before rifle fire erupts around the entire club tells me every single crew member in this club is entering the fight.
A rapid exchange erupts through the night, shattering glass all along this side of the club.
My breath comes hard and fast as I hold the gun, still unable to believe he gave it to me.
Rogue put the very weapon that could enable me to get free in my hands.
He went downstairs into the line of fire without protection to face off against the bastards outside, who are no doubt trying to get to me.
Tears threaten, my effort to keep them at bay burning behind my lips. Rogue doesn’t have a weapon to protect himself because he gave it to me. My chest tightens with fear of the worst kind, my pulse racing at the very thought of him getting shot on his way downstairs.
No, his men will have given him another gun, maybe one of the rifles or sawed off he used the night I came here. The racing of my blood begins to slow but only slightly, cringing as each shot pumps through the walls of the club or into a body that I don’t know isn’t Rogues.
There’s a current, a connection between us, even though he’s keeping me a prisoner.
But still the vibe he gives off is that he’s not aware of it.
Cold, indifferent, although his eyes, they look at me with something way different.
He’s not so indifferent and the way he kissed me proved that.
He just doesn’t trust me or at least knows that I haven’t told him the full truth, which I find thought-provokingly perceptive.
He may be older, have more experience in these matters, but whatever the reason he’s trying to make me believe he doesn’t feel anything, everything he does tells me just the opposite.
The only reason the Scorpion prez didn’t let his men touch me is because of my innocence and the indecent amount of money they would get for handing me over.
Rogue doesn’t know I’m a virgin, yet he protects me by keeping me in this room.
The only one who comes in or out with drinks, food, or to try and get more information from me.
Protecting me and as it sinks in even more, the remorse I feel for pushing him away weighs heavy on my heart.
I only hope I get to kiss him again, and that he and his men aren’t killed trying to save me.
A round of loud booming gunshots and glass exploding causes me to scoot farther under the bed until I’m in the center of the box spring above but by the sounds of those guns, who knows if it’s going to be enough.
I make a pledge to myself. After tonight, I’m going to tell Rogue everything.
He deserves to know what I know and it may not make a difference to him and his crew, but at least they’ll know that they can trust me after that.
When the Royal Bastards crew comes back in, I am going to tell them all face to face and let the chips fall where they may.
Rogue’s put his crew at risk and kept me safeguarded in his club even against his crew’s wishes in order to protect me.
Each and every one of them deserves to hear the truth from me especially after the second Scorpion attack.
Rogue is a surprise, protecting me at every turn, but most definitely when handing me his gun.
That’s not the traits of a man I ever thought I would know. No man has ever protected me, not my daddy who I don’t remember, not my stepdad, not my uncles, and sure as hell not any boyfriend I’ve ever had or the captors I’ve had.
Until Rogue.
When the biker’s rode up to our house and my step let them take us, my older sister by less than a year and I both knew the truth, although we both wanted to protect the other from the cold hard facts.
No matter how much we thought he loved us, we were being given over, sold, to a biker group that would inevitably sell us to the highest bidder.
A contract, whether it was on paper or a solid handshake, it doesn’t really matter, a deal is a deal between biker crews and whoever they deal with.
I inhale a deep breath as realization hits me. Ari is out. My sister is free. Hopefully far away from here. That’s all I care about, at least that’s all I used to care about. But I don’t want anything to happen to Rogue and his family of bikers just because of me. Now I care about that too.
The Scorpions aren’t going to stop. They’re going to keep knocking on the Royal Bastards’ door until they get me. Well, it stops now. They can have me, as long as I know my sister is safe and they stop coming after the Royal Bastards.
With more bravado than I’ve had since breaking out of the Scorpions lair, I roll out from under the bed and stand. I inhale a deep breath before heading to the door with my gun, ready to help in this fight and at least set a few things right.
But the door crashes open and Rogue throws me onto the floor, pinning himself on top of me, keeping me restrained with the weight of his body as bullets ricochet through the windows, the remaining glass shattering all around us and silver bullets penetrating the walls from every direction.
“Rogue?” I scream, but he muffles it with a hand.
“Shhh, baby.” He keeps me pressed down to the floor.
“Stay still. I’ve got you, Angel,” he says into my ear.
His body shifts, sliding me back under the bed and curling around me, bullets whizzing by where our heads and neck were unprotected just moments ago before lodging themselves into the walls of the club.
The Scorpions are here for me, bringing everything they’ve got, automatics that are no match for the drywall and wood framed walls. I close my eyes tight, willing them to go away, for the shooting to stop while Rogue’s arm keeps me drawn tucked into his side. “Breathe, baby.”
I inhale a deep breath, and while the world around us is under fire, I feel the safest I’ve ever felt in my entire life.