Page 73

Rachel

Dante came back in, refusing to look my way. Almost as if he was ashamed of what he had done.

As he fucking should be!

“Get dressed, Rachel. The captain was paid to turn the boat around. We should be docking soon.” Were the only words he uttered before he went into the room where Bee was sleeping.

Shark, Hacksaw and Vienna were unable to meet my eyes as I picked my clothes up off the floor.

“Nice President you have there, isn’t it?” I spat at them when Dante went into Bee’s room to wake her, not giving a single shit about my nudity. They’d seen it all already. Let them look upon what they had allowed to happen.

“Nothing to say?” I laughed. “I mean, what could you possibly say? You’ve just watched Dante degrade me on the same floor you can’t take your eyes off.

You have an old lady, Shark. How would you feel if someone had done this to her?

What about you, Vienna? You would be fine knowing someone had treated Gabriella this way?

Hacksaw, you’ve got a little sister. Think how you’d feel if someone was to humiliate her in front of all their friends.

I know damn well not a single one of you would accept it.

But because it’s me, it’s okay. It’s Just Rachel.

Story of my fucking life. You should all be utterly ashamed of yourselves. ”

They remained silent even as I finished pulling my clothes on and held my hand out to Vienna for the key.

“I can’t give you that, Rachel,” he mumbled, still refusing to look at me. There was a slight flush to his cheeks, and I couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment, anger, or a mix of both.

“Give me the fucking key, Vienna. What exactly do you think I’m going to do? Jump off the boat and swim to Ireland? Think of the havoc it would cause my hair. ”

He visibly flinched as I brought up the reminder of our friendship, and so I went one further. “You get it, don’t you, hair buddy?” I said, using the same words he had given me when he used humour as a defence mechanism when Shark had been stabbed.

“Rachel I—”

“Give her the key,” Dante interrupted. We all turned in his direction and my heart leapt in my throat when I saw him carrying a sleepy Bee in his arms. She had her tiny arms wrapped around his neck; her face buried in his shoulder to shield her from the light.

I had always found Dante at his most attractive when he was with his daughter, and today was no different. His huge arms engulfed her small frame, easily holding her weight with just one arm around her, the other gently stroking her back.

She looked tiny in comparison to him, and he looked the fierce, terrifying protector that he was.

“Give her the key,” he repeated. “We’re ready to leave, anyway.”

We all left together, Dante leading the way with Bee and Shark, and Hacksaw and Vienna at the back, sandwiching me in the middle.

We waited on the top deck of the ferry, and my heart sank as I saw the other bikers waiting for us on the pier.

He had brought them all, just in case there was any resistance.

Dante climbed onto his bike, sitting Bee comfortably in front of him, his tree trunk thighs securing her in place.

He grinned down at her, warning her that she was only allowed to stay on the bike until they reached the motorway, and then she had to go to the car.

She agreed eagerly, loving nothing more than to be able to ride with her daddy.

They took off without a backwards glance, and then Vienna placed his hand on the small of my back and directed me to the car, opening the back door for me.

I actually felt my heart break.

Never, ever, had Dante ridden off without me if it wasn’t unavoidable.

And on the rare occasions he had, I had never been shoved into the back of a car on my own.

No matter how angry he was at me, he always allowed me on his bike.

He despised cars and only used them when necessary.

I must have really pushed him to his limit if he couldn’t even stand to have me at his back .

Hardly surprising considering you shot him.

It’s not as if he was bothered much by being shot. It didn’t seem to be affecting him. In fact, I’d wager a bet that it was nothing more than a scratch, and it had been shock more than pain that had made him let me go.

But you still shot at him. The depth of the wound doesn’t matter. You’ve stabbed him, and you’ve shot him.

And there she was again. My inner voice was ready to defend him and all the shit he did.

But why should I constantly have to defend him?

Why was it okay for him to keep giving me reasons to defend him?

I wasn’t perfect by any means, but no one was jumping to my defence.

When I fucked up, I really fucked up. Everyone knew about it.

When Dante fucked up, or hurt people, or caused a mess, it was brushed off.

I couldn’t help but think of how unfair it was.

Had I really committed a huge crime? Was it really so terrible to want nothing more than mine and Bee’s safety? I had told Dante I would be back, and I meant it. He just wasn’t willing to listen to anyone other than himself.