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“Not lettin’ you walk away.”
Again, he spoke like he owned her, like she was club property. She had witnessed that mentality firsthand as a child growing up a part of the Fury. “It’s not up to you, Trip.”
This time when he closed the gap between them, he didn’t grab her wrist, instead his face was soft—which was even harder to deal with than when he was angry—and he tucked his thumb under her chin, raising her face to his.
“You’re not goin’ anywhere. Need you to stay and manage the bar, Stella. Need your help. I got too many irons in the fire already and not enough hands. Will help you get it turned around, but you’ll be runnin’ it.”
“With some strong suggestions from you, right?”
“When they’re needed. Thinkin’ if you got cash flowin’ in to fix shit up and a bit of help so it’s not all on your shoulders, then you’ll do all right without me steppin’ in too often.”
“Too often,” she repeated under her breath.
“Thing is, once I find you some prospects, you won’t be closin’ the bar every night. In fact, you won’t be closin’ it at all. You’ll be managin’ it, not doin’ the heavy liftin’. Want you in my bed every night at a decent hour.”
Whoa. What kind of drugs was he doing? “Trip, I’m not going to be in your bed. I’m not paying back the debt that way.”
“Got nothin’ to do with the debt, baby. Nothin’ at all.”
Baby. She shook her head like she was stuck in some twilight zone. “You’re not getting what I’m putting down, Trip.”
His fingers tightened on her chin. “No, baby, you’re not gettin’ what I’m puttin’ down.”
The intensity in his eyes, the growl in his voice made her lose her breath. The meaning behind his words closed her throat. “You...” She tried to swallow past the constriction. “You...” Jesus Christ. “You can’t just claim me. I’m not a part of the club.”
“Were born into it. You’re still a part of the club.”
“My mother freed us when we left twenty years ago. I don’t want anything to do with it.”
“Too fuckin’ bad.”
He must be living in some sort of fantasy world. Panic began to set in, her heart thumping furiously in her chest. “No, that’s not how real life works, Trip.”
“In my world, it does.”
“Not in mine.”
“Yours is the same as mine.”
He was definitely deluded. “No.”
“Yes, Stella.”
“You’re fucking crazy.”
A slow smile crossed his face. “Maybe so.”
“That’s nothing to be proud of, Trip.”
“Got a plan, Stella, and you’re a part of that plan.”
“Since when?”
“Since the moment I walked into Crazy Pete’s and found you instead of Pete.”
She stared at him for a long moment. He didn’t look crazy, but he was fucking bat-shit crazy.
She needed to get the hell out of there.
Once again, she’d made a mistake coming out to the farm to talk to him. Not only did Trip need his head examined, so did she.
Because the life she had escaped all those years ago was suddenly beginning to control her all over again.
And she refused to let that happen. Even if he promised things would be different.
Because he hadn’t.
She jerked her chin from his grasp. “Give me my stuff and I’ll get out of here.”
“Will give you the checkbook but not the bills.”
“I don’t want to owe you more than I already do.”
“Baby, that’s one thing you’re not gettin’. You don’t owe me fuckin’ shit. Just need your help makin’ the bar a success. It’ll benefit both of us, as well as the club.”
And that would be fine if he didn’t want anything else. But he did. He outright stated it more than once. “I’ll make you a deal.”
“Not in a position to deal, Stella.”
The fuck she wasn’t. “I’ll stay and manage the bar, consider your suggestions, accept the help of whoever you can find—as long as they’re more help than a hindrance—but that’s all you’re getting from me. Nothing else.”
He sucked at his teeth and scrubbed at his beard.
“Nothing else, Trip,” she repeated more firmly.
“Know that’s not what you really want,” he finally said.
“What you want and what I want are two different things.”
“Doubt that.”
When he took a step closer, she took a step back.
“Gonna prove you wrong.”
The large kitchen suddenly felt way too small. Even with the windows open, the oxygen in the house seemed to be gone. Her surroundings became a vacuum which held her fast. Her heart squeezed as he took another step, closing the gap between them. She scrambled backward and her ass hit the kitchen table, stopping her escape.
“Lookin’ for a strong woman to stand by my side, baby, and that’s you.”
“No.” She wasn’t strong, not anymore. Her strength had been sucked from her, leaving her an empty shell. “I’m not her.”
“Yeah, Stella, that’s you.”
“You think I’m strong but I’m not.” She wasn’t who he thought. She needed him to see that. To look elsewhere. She could not be who he wanted.
