“I never said I was,” he growls.
“He mattered to me,” I say. “In my screwed up world, he mattered.”
Jagger stares down at his clenched fists. “If you mattered, he wouldn’t have risked so much. If you mattered, he wouldn’t have run and left you with your sick mother. If you mattered, he wouldn’t have forgiven your mother for cheating on him.”
“You’re wrong, you know. We did matter. He ran to protect us. He didn’t leave my mother because he loved me, because he loved Jenny. He took a child on that wasn’t even his, and he gave her the kind of love she could have only ever dreamed of. You tell me another man willing to go to those lengths after being hurt.”
Before he can answer, three trucks come rolling into the drive, and I watch as all the men get out. I study them as they walk closer, truly taking a moment to admire their utter beauty. Angel, being the tallest of the group , has this long, thick dark hair and the bluest eyes. His skin is creamy and that makes his tattoos stand out. He’s well built and has the kind of coldness in his eyes that could be terrifying, but it also gives you an intense need to want to melt it to see what’s beneath.
Ace is shorter than Angel, but equally as gorgeous. He has dark hair, messy and unruly, a few inches long. His eyes, the color of deep warm chocolate, are kinder than the rest of the groups’. He’s thicker in build, his muscles strong and large. He has less tattoos, but truly, it makes him look even better.
Bull is the scariest of the group outside of Snake. He has this empty expression on his beautifully broken face. His hair is cropped short and is light brown in color. His eyes are a dazzling steel gray and his body is on the leaner side but strong and covered in tattoos. From head to toe, including his neck, he’s all ink.
Rusty is an all American handsome guy, with long blond hair he keeps tied in a ponytail. He has a big smile, dimples and all, and the lightest green eyes. If it wasn’t for the muscles, ink and bad boy complex, you’d pin him as the typical boy next door, though I have no doubt he’s anything but.
As they stop at the steps, Snake gives me a truly terrifying look. I don’t waver. I don’t flinch. I glare right back at him.
“Lookin’ better,” Angel says, crossing his arms, his eyes scanning over me.
“I am.”
“We have issues to discuss, boss,” Ace says, nodding at Jagger.
“Right.” Jagger stands and looks down at me. “Inside.”
“No, I’ll stay here.”
“Inside,” he grinds out. “It wasn’t a fuckin’ choice.”
With a huff, I stand and turn, walking inside the house and into the kitchen. Fucking men. Fucking rude, asshole, men. They stay downstairs for quite some time and the thudding sounds coming from that general direction have my curiosity burning.
A quick look won’t hurt, right?
7
I slowly make my way downstairs, tiptoeing as I do.
I don’t want to get caught, but I’m very curious as to what the sounds coming from down there are from. The grunting and slamming have me concerned.
I reach the door to the basement and with trembling fingers, I push the door open. A small squeak is hidden by the grunting sounds that are now a lot louder. I sneak in, one step at a time, and when I get to the bottom of the stairs, I peer around and what I see has my entire body tensing.
Everyone is in here, all of the guys, and they’re standing around a man who is tied to a chair, his face dripping with blood, his head slumped forward and there, standing in front of him, is Jagger. He has a knife to the man’s throat and is barking something, something I can’t make out because the buzzing in my ears is so loud it’s all I can hear.
I watch in horror as Jagger barks another question, and the man doesn’t answer. Jagger loses his cool and, with an angry movement, slides the knife across the mans throat, making blood spurt out in a way I didn’t know blood could. My mouth opens, but it’s not until I see Angel lunging toward me that I realize I’m screaming.
Horror washes over my body as I realize the man who has held me captive really is the monster he’s promised to be.
“Let me go,” I yell, squirming in Angel’s grips.
“You can’t be in here,” he grunts, hanging on tightly.
“What the fuck is she doing in here?” Jagger roars.
“I told you she should be fucking locked up!” Snake snarls.
“What are you doing down here?” Jagger barks in my direction, knife in his hand, blood dripping from it.