Rogue (Dead Man's Ink, #2)(12)
FOUR
SOPHIA
I don't know what to make of this crazy, infuriating, ridiculously hot man. He drives me absolutely insane. One minute he's inside me in a corridor at his father's house, the next I'm being shoved back into his cabin and I'm shut away for 10 days. The man doesn't even speak to me. I don't see his face. I receive no word from him whatsoever. And now, it seems as though he's back in my life again, albeit bloody, bleeding and broken, and I don't know what to make of it.
The sun is pouring through the cabin windows, casting long shadows across the room, highlighting the dust motes swirling through the air overhead as I sleep on the bed beside Rebel. I didn't want to climb into bed with him, but the only other option was the couch and I've been uncomfortable and miserable for long enough now. Why the hell should I have to crash out on the couch? Besides, he's hardly in a position to do anything untoward at this point. The guy was practically dead last night.
It can only be about six in the morning. Already though, I can hear motorcycles arriving and leaving the compound, the brisk snarl of engines startling the birds from the trees surrounding the cabin. I'm surprised it doesn't wake Rebel up. Mind you, he appears to be sleeping the sleep of the dead. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to accomplish the same feat.
I had unwelcome dreams last night. I know it's messed up, but I haven't thought about Matt since the moment I decided to give myself over to Rebel back in Alabama. I spent the last year dating a guy and I haven't thought about him once. How crazy must I be? Matt was never as thrilling or exciting as Rebel, but he was nice-looking guy, made me laugh. He was safe. I feel like I'm doing him a disservice by completely forgetting about him like this. I mean, who does that?
"You look like you’re plotting out the world’s end." I nearly jump out of my skin when I realize that Rebel is awake, and he's actually looking at me, frown lines marking his forehead. Sleep still hangs over him, his gaze slightly fuzzy
“Not exactly,” I say. “Just wondering where we go from here?” That seems like the most practical thing to be thinking. It’s no longer the sense of limbo that I find frustrating. It’s the feeling of complete and utter uselessness. Ever since I saw his uncle Ryan being murdered, I’ve felt vulnerable and unsafe. I haven’t had purpose or place in the world I’ve found myself in. I’ve been drifting, cut free from all tasks and activities that might give me some sort of mental stimulus. I’ve just been afraid and powerless, and that, perhaps, has been the worst part. With nothing to occupy my mind with other than my present situation, I’ve been driving myself crazy. At least if I know what Rebel’s plan of action is, I can maybe help. Maybe I can be a part of the process. I’m kind of stunned by the intensity of his refusal to let me be a part of any plan his club members might come up with. The look on his face last night when he was speaking was so determined; it made my heart swell in my chest in the strangest, scariest way. In that moment he looked like he meant every word, with a depth of passion I couldn’t quite fathom. But if he means it, if he really won’t allow me to be put in danger again, then maybe there’s another way.
Rebel just shakes his head at me. “Don’t get any ideas, Sophia. I know this shit is f*cked up. I know I should have just let you go when Julio handed you over, but I was too angry to see straight then. I’ve been even angrier since we left my father’s place.” He laughs shakily, pressing a hand into his side. “Funny how losing an obscene amount of blood can make a guy cool his heels and start thinking properly again. I’m not normally the guy who runs into a situation guns blazing. I’m the guy who figures out how to disarm everyone without them even realizing.” A shadow passes over his face, the light in his eyes dimming. “That tactic’s not going to work out this time. This time there will be blood and people will die, and I don’t want you anywhere near it. This can’t last longer than a couple more days, okay? Once it’s all over, I’ll personally make sure you’re delivered back to Seattle safe and sound without a hair on your head harmed. If that’s what you want…”
“If that’s what I want?” I almost can’t breathe around the words. They just seem so ludicrous. “Why wouldn’t it be what I wanted?”
Rebel just lies there, still covered in blood like something out of a horror show, looking at me. His inhales slowly, then lifts his hand and holds it out to me. “I’m done with the bullshit. If you want me, it won’t be pretty. I know I sure as f*ck don’t deserve you, but I think you’re a smart girl. You can feel what’s right around the corner for us, right? You can sense how consuming and desperate and explosive it will be if we both just take one step forward. I’m not saying it’s not ridiculously dangerous to be with me. To be the partner of someone who lives the kind of life I lead. But you…if there’s anyone in this world with enough backbone and stubbornness to survive it, it’s you. And you’d more than survive here, Sophia. You’d flourish.”
There’s a huge, painful lump in my throat by the time he’s finished. My cheeks feel like they’re on fire. Every encounter I’ve had with a guy before has been awkward and shy in the beginning. So much beating around the bush. Reading in between the lines. ‘Dating,’ where no one has a clue where they stand. With the man lying in front of me in this bed, there is no hidden meaning. He’s afraid of nothing. He knows what he wants and he speaks plainly. It’s terrifying.