Unbeautifully (Undeniable, #2)(69)

I hated it.

What was going on?

God, what the f*ck was going on?

DANNY! BABY!

Ripper’s voice was suddenly echoing through my head, instantly returning my memories. Startled, I glanced up at him. He took one look at me and knew what I was thinking, knew I’d heard him yelling.

Everything about him told me he wanted me to drop it, to let it go, to not do what he already knew I was going to do.

Trembling, I reached out and grabbed his hand. He responded immediately, engulfed my hand inside his much larger, infinitely warmer one.

“What were you going to say?” I whispered.

He shook his head. “Danny, let’s get you inside, baby, get you warm.”

“No!” I yanked my hand from his. “Tell me what you were going to say!”

His mouth flattened. “Does it matter?” he asked, nodding briskly at my ring-laden hand.

My insides seized and I fought the urge to scream at him, to beat him senseless. Did it matter? What was wrong with him? He no more wanted me to marry ZZ than I wanted to marry ZZ.

He still loved me.

“Say it,” I demanded, refusing to let him leave me again, every bone in my body suddenly protesting the very thought of it.

“Stop it,” he hissed.

“You started it!”

“Still so f*ckin’ immature,” he growled. “Thinkin’ ’bout yourself when all around you, shit’s goin’ bad.”

“Are you really going to do this?” I cried, no longer caring who heard me, who knew about us. “Especially now? Are you going to keep running from me? From us? Because I can’t! Dammit, Ripper, I can’t! Not after this!”

I couldn’t. Not after I’d just watched Dorothy take a bullet to the head, all because she refused to let go of the man she loved, a man she might have died just to keep. Standing right in front of me was the man I loved and I didn’t want to spend one more second aching for him.

“You’re gonna f*ckin’ spew this shit at me!” he yelled. “Right the f*ck now? Right after Z puts a motherf*ckin’ ring on your finger?”

“Stop it!” I shrieked, feeling him in his anger slipping away again. Retreating. Knowing that the second he could, he was going to get on his bike and put Montana and me in his rearview. And I couldn’t, I f*cking couldn’t, let that happen.

“Stop ignoring this! Me! Just stop it! Admit it! Fucking admit you love me!”

“Yeah!” he yelled, grabbing my biceps and shaking me hard. “I f*ckin’ love you, bitch! I’ve only ever loved you and I ain’t ever stopped!”

Despite his painfully bruising grip on my arms or that he was shaking me so hard I could feel my brain rattle inside my skull, I felt an instant relief flood me. He loved me. And right now, it seemed to be the only thing that mattered to me.

“Don’t matter though, does it? ’Cause you didn’t give two f*cks about me! Proved it when instead of tellin’ me about my f*ckin’ baby, you started f*ckin’ Z! You coulda told me about the baby, Danny! You shoulda told me about the baby!”

Tears burned in my eyes.

“Don’t f*ckin’ cry!” he yelled, shaking me again. “Don’t you dare f*ckin’ cry!”

“You left me!” I cried. “You just left me here all alone! I needed you and you left me!”

“You’re Z’s now! You’re his f*ckin’ old lady and I got no right to be lovin’ you!”

“I’ve never been his,” I whispered. “Ripper, I’ve always been yours.”

His features tightening, he squeezed his eyes shut, and trembled ever so slightly.

“Dammit, Danielle,” he whispered hoarsely. “God f*ckin’ dammit.”

? ? ?

Ripper, I’ve always been yours.

Ripper stared down at Danny’s tear-streaked face, his body shaking, not from rage, but from need. He wanted her back more than he’d ever wanted anything. He wanted her more than he wanted his f*cking eye back; in fact, she could have his other eye if she wanted it.

Fuck him, he loved her. He loved every damn part of her. Every inch of flawless skin, every cell that made her into who and what she was. He loved her eyes and her mouth, he loved her breasts, her legs, all ten of her toes. He loved being inside of her, he loved just being in her presence. He loved the holy f*ck out of her and if he’d known then that Deuce would have been not murderous, but instead violently accepting of Danny being with one of his boys, he would have shed light to his feelings long ago. Nikki would have never been blindsided at finding Danny with him, Danny never would have had to shoot Nikki, and he never would have had to leave. He’d be the man taking daily beat-downs and every single one of them would be worth it, worth it because it would have meant he’d be the man going to bed at night with Danny in his arms.

Not ZZ.

Never ZZ.

Something solidified inside of him, the part of him that had been broken and aching to be whole again. The part of him that, for a short time, had experienced what it meant to be truly happy, and he desperately wanted it back.

A quick glance around the lawn reminded him that they weren’t alone, and the remaining stragglers were openly gaping at the two of them. Mick and Adriana, Cox and Kami, Dirty, a couple of club whores, and Eva. His gaze caught that of Deuce’s old lady, and surprisingly didn’t find any disapproval in her eyes. Just tears. For Dorothy or for Danny or both, he didn’t know.