Page 14 of Wild Card (Royal Bastards MC: Cody, Wyoming #1)
TWELVE
Ruby
I sit awkwardly in the Porters’ living room, watching Esmé stare at her brother like she has the ability to shoot laser beams from her eyes.
“The steaks were great, Mr. Porter.” I try to break up the tension, and when I look at Brett and his battered face, all I can think about is Ash.
He was so feral and brutal, I didn’t think I’d be able to stop him.
He went at him like a savage, and he did it to protect me.
Everything he said earlier at the bar was true, but I couldn’t argue with him.
I can’t risk him knowing the truth. Not now or ever. This is just how things have to be.
“Come, Esmé. We should leave your brother and Ruby to talk.” Mr. Porter summons his daughter as he stands up and starts making his way out the room.
“If you need me, I’ll be in my room,” Esmé tells me, before throwing her brother a cold, hateful stare and following her dad out. I wait until we’re completely alone in this oversized room before I speak.
“How does it feel?” I check, not knowing what else to say to him. Brett's not stupid. He must know that I’m here because I have to be.
“How do you think it feels? Your new friend went at me like a rabid dog,” he tells me, not taking his eyes from the TV screen, despite the fact it’s not even on.
“Ash was just looking out for me,” I explain.
“Well, Ash won’t be around for much longer.
My father’s speaking to his president first thing in the morning, and that cunt will be sent back to where he came from.
” The thought of it brings a rush of panic to my chest, and I have to remind myself of how pathetic I’m being.
I’ve not known the guy long enough for that sort of reaction, and even if I had, having feelings for him would be pointless.
“We need to talk about this arrangement.” I twist my body a little more so I’m facing him. He’s so swollen and bruised, Ash really did make a mess of him.
“You mean our marriage.” Brett manages to chuckle as if all this is a joke to him.
“I never agreed to marry you; it wasn’t part of the deal. That’s why it came as such a shock,” I admit, trying to start a civil conversation with him.
“What did you expect? For us to just date forever? I want to be taken seriously in this town.”
“Why me?” The question slips out of my mouth. I’ve never asked it before, mainly for fear of the answer, but we’re done pretending now. I went into this with the hope that I’d develop feelings for Brett; it sure as hell would have made it easier, but that's never gonna happen now.
“Because I love you.” Brett looks at me as if I’m stupid.
“You wouldn’t have been capable of such anger and hate toward me if you loved me. You’d understand that this isn’t what I want and you’d set me free.”
“I never claimed I wasn’t selfish,” he tells me matter-of-factly. Resting his head back against the couch like he’s bored with the conversation already.
“All those things you said about my mom, you knew they would hurt me,” I remind him.
“I intended for them to hurt you; you’d embarrassed me,” he admits, without shame or regret. “I agree we need to set some boundaries for this relationship to work, and I promise not to be disrespectful about your mom again,” he sighs.
“You didn't know her well enough to judge her,” I point out, because I’m not done.
“But she’s the reason you're in this mess, is she not?” he points out, not letting me forget the hold he has over me.
“None of this is Mom's fault.” I don’t care what I have to suffer for it; what she did was justified.
“While we’re talking boundaries, this no sex rule… It’s got to go.” Brett disregards everything I just said and moves on. “It’s not normal. Soon we’ll be husband and wife, and how the fuck are we supposed to start a family if you live like a nun?”
“Things will be different once we’re married,” I tell him, feeling cold inside. Just the thought of this man touching me now has my stomach churning.
“How do I know you're not just saying that to stall me?” Brett shakes his head.
“You have no idea what it’s like growing up without a dad; having no idea who he is or what kind of man he is. Mom had a past, one she regretted, and one I’ve learned from.”
“You're not a whore like she was, Ruby. You’re my girlfr— Fiancée now,” he corrects himself.
“You know if I were to get you pregnant, I’d take care of you.
It’s all I want. Me, you, and a houseful of kids.
” He softens his tone, but I don’t buy what he says.
The past few days, he’s made me feel worthless.
Come to think about it, he’s always made me feel that way.
Which is why I don’t understand why he’d lower his standards and marry me.
Brett Porter is a handsome guy; he’s successful and charming to those who don’t know him. He could have any girl he wants.
“Stay here with me tonight,” he suggests, placing his hand on my thigh. “I know you're scared, but we can ease into things…I’ll be gentle.” Being scared doesn’t come into it. I’m not afraid to have sex, I just don’t want it with this man.
“You're in no state to be thinking about things like that; you need to rest,” I tell him politely, trying to ignore the bile that rises in my throat when I think about his hands touching me. Once I let that happen, he will be all I’ve ever known, and that terrifies me.
“Ruby, I’m fine. I know I don’t look it right now, but the pain meds are working and the swelling will go down in a few days.”
“Just be patient with me, Brett, please,” I beg him. “I promise once we’re married, things will be different.” It’s a promise I don’t want to make, but one I have to
“Damn right it will be.” He tuts, picking up the remote and turning on the TV.
“I should get back, Earl struggles with locking up by himself," I tell him, assuming he doesn't know that Ash is staying at the bar too. If he did, I can’t imagine he’d let me go back there.
“Whatever pleases you, dear.” He sniggers sarcastically, looking back at the TV. So I stand up and slip back into my shoes, leaving him watching some cop show and wondering what evil has possessed me, when for a split second I wish that I’d let Ash kill him.
My heart stops when my cab pulls up and I see an ambulance outside the bar.
The first person I think of is Earl. He’s been getting more and more fragile lately, and I keep telling him to see Dr. Armstrong about his palpitations.
Paying the driver, I rush out, calling out Earl's name until I run straight into a huge, solid chest.
“Relax, it ain’t Earl.” I look up and see Ash’s warm, brown eyes looking down at me. His arms have wrapped all the way around me, engulfing me in that scent I smelled on the ride back from the house this afternoon.
I let him hold me for longer than I should, feeling his lips press down on the top of my head while I breathe a sigh of relief. Then I quickly remember that I can’t do this, not to him or myself.
I’ve led this guy on enough already, and although it’s all his own fault for being so damn handsome, I need to take some control.
“Who was it?” I drag myself away, despite how much I need his comfort right now. I wish I could tell him everything so he’d know I’m not crazy.
“Sheriff Underwood’s son. He took some of those pills that have been going around,” he explains, looking genuinely concerned. “I’m glad you're back. I’m gonna need you to lock up the bar while I go deal with something.” He suddenly looks all fired up and mad.
“Not Brett.” I shake my head at him.
“No, not Brett. Not this time, but if you think I’mma just let that go, you're mistaken.” I shouldn’t feel butterflies in my stomach from hearing that; I should feel dread, but no matter how much I try to ignore it, there's a part of me that wants this man to save me.
“Then where are you going?” I grip his arm when he moves to leave.
“Club business, darlin’.” His voice is all low and scratchy.
“Is it dangerous?” I ask him, wanting his arms back around me again.
“You just head on inside and pour these folks out here a drink. The kid had everyone worried.” He swerves my question, and when his hand starts to tug out of mine, I really want to cling to it.
“Be careful,” I tell him.
“Careful, sweetheart, you almost sound like you care about me.” He hits me with that cocky grin of his before dashing off into the night and leaving me even more conflicted than I was before.