Chapter 24
Iwant to scream at Gwen. If I weren’t in Rafe’s car, I would be. “Lucy.” She leans forward and touches the side of my arm. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking about you at all. I like him…liked him, and wanted to impress him. It was so dumb.” Her voice is soft, remorseful.
“Yeah, like having a friend who’s a stripper issocool,” I snap sarcastically. “Plus, you ignored my calls all day and blurted it out in front of Rafe.”
“Not on purpose,” she snarls.
“Don’t raise your voice to her.” Rafe glares into the rearview mirror.
“But she can yell at me?”
“Yes. You fucked up. Be happy she’s even speaking to you. You would have been dead to me if I were in her shoes.” His voice is lethally calm.
“You don’t even know her,” Gwen snarks.
“Wrong.” Rafe’s single word holds so much conviction. He does know me.
A few minutes pass in silence before Gwen mutters dejectedly, “I said I was sorry.”
Rafe turns down the street where The Dollhouse is. I can see the place is packed from here, which isn’t surprising for a Saturday night. I spot Gwen’s sedan parked in the main lot, so she must have paid for valet. Great.
I lower myself in the seat, hoping the tinted windows will be enough to keep everyone from seeing me. Rafe knowing I worked here is different than people actually recognizing me from the club. His car draws lots of attention, and heads turn to follow his Mercedes the moment he enters the lot. Tiger rushes over from his position near the door and moves some traffic cones that were blocking the front parking spot as if he’s expecting him to park. Rafe passes it and drives directly to Gwen’s car. Tiger jogs over when we stop.
The locks disengage, and Gwen curls her fingers over the door handle. “Thank you for picking me up. I really am sorry, Lucy. I’ll call you tomorrow, if that’s okay?” She looks away from me and toward Rafe, as if he will answer for me.
“We can talk tomorrow,” I reply. We’ve never gotten into an argument like this, but I’m certain we can get past it. When she opens her door, I hear Tiger’s deep voice. “Hey, Rex, you coming in?”
I look toward Tiger, wondering who he could be speaking to. Gwen stops short with only one leg out of the car and looks around too.
“Rex?” I look at Rafe’s profile and watch his jaw tic. “Who’s Rex?” I ask, but I think I already know.
“Get out of the car,” Rafe snarls with his teeth still clamped together. I reach for the handle, but he places a possessive hand over my thigh, keeping me in place.
Gwen exits and turns to look at the driver’s side door. I watch her lips move but can’t make out what she’s saying other than the word ‘Rex.’ She looks completely bewildered. I’m sure my expression mirrors hers.
Rafe hits the gas again, and the rear door Gwen left open slams shut as he speeds out of the parking lot. I look back to see her watching the taillights of Rafe’s car.
I should have droppedthat bitch off on the corner and made her walk. I’m so fucking mad, she’s lucky I didn’t run her and Tiger over. Lucy is completely silent beside me. I still have my hand on her thigh because I’m afraid she’s going to disappear out of my moving vehicle if I release her.
My insides feel like they’re shaking. I think I’m scared. I haven’t been afraid of anything since I was nine and bashed my old man’s head in with a hammer after he beat me one too many times.
I thought every ounce of fear I had in my body was washed down the sink with his blood. That was the last day I truly felt anything until she came along. I should have killed her then. No, even now, I can’t think that without wanting to gouge my own eyes out. I should have killed myself.
“Rafe.” I look over at Lucy because I’m helpless not to respond to her. “Why did he call you that?”
I swallow. Fuck, my throat is so dry. “It’s what they all call me.”
“All?”
If I can just get her back to the house, I can lock us in and make sure she can’t run from me while I tell her…tell her whatever she needs to hear so it doesn’t matter who or what I am to everyone else.
My phone buzzes. There’s only one person it could be. I pull it from my pocket and bring it to my ear without saying a word.
“I know you’re there,” Winger growls out, and I still don’t respond. “Don’t hurt her. Do you hear me? If you hurt her…” He doesn’t add any more, but he doesn’t need to. I know what his threat means, but it’s empty, because I never would. “Say something!” he shouts.
“I would die first,” I state, telling him the truth.
“Good,” he breathes. “Give her a chance to accept you. You’re not as unredeemable as you think.”
