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“No,” she snapped, her eyes losing the frost and igniting with flames. “I’m nothing to you. You proved that to me perfectly.” Grabbing a bra out of her bag, she slid it on and stood as she fastened it in place. “You should go now. Like you said, the club is on lockdown. It’s probably not safe for you to be out by yourself right now.”
I grabbed her by the waist as she started to brush past me. “I’m not leaving without you. Now, put your fucking clothes on so we can go.”
“Fuck off!” she spat in my face like a feral little kitten. “I am done with you. Get your hands off me, and get the hell out of my life.”
Releasing her only long enough to grab one of her wrists, locking her in place beside me, I bent and pulled out the shirt at the top of her bag. One-handed, I dressed her in the shirt while she struggled and scratched against me. “I’m not leaving with you,” she hissed as I pulled the shirt down over her perfect ass. “Stop manhandling me before I start screaming.”
I smirked up at her as I dug through the mess of her bag and found her jeans. “I’m used to your screaming, baby. It’s not going to bother me any.”
“I’ll scream rape,” she threatened. “I’ll scream, and every guy out front will come back here, and at least one of them won’t be too much of a pussy to call the cops.”
“Do it,” I encouraged, wrapping an arm around her middle as I stood. It was like dressing a wildcat as I wrestled her into her jeans, fighting the material over her work shoes. Around us, the other dancers were watching us with a mixture of amusement and wry concern for her, yet no one tried to help Kelli as I pulled the jeans up her legs. Leaving them unbuttoned, I stepped back long enough to toss her street shoes in her bag and pick it up. “Let’s go.”
“You’re bleeding,” one of the other girls called out. “She got you good with her nails.”
I shrugged. “Not the first time she’s drawn blood.”
The girl snickered as I pushed Kelli forward. “I bet.”
Chapter 8
Kelli
I should have hauled ass out of town the second I could, to hell with my promise to Raven. Instead, I’d gone to work, needing time to clear my head and decide what my next move was until I could set up what I’d promised I would.
Now, as Colt marched me out of Paradise City in the direction of my car, I was regretting my earlier conversation with his sister and the urge to help her take care of at least one of her enemies. After what happened the night before, with her daughter lying in bed recovering from a gunshot wound, I wanted to take at least a little of the weight off her shoulders.
This was what I deserved for having a fucking conscience and allowing myself to have feelings for others.
I jerked against Colt’s steel-like hold on my arm. “I said, let me go, asshole.”
His fingers flexed on my biceps to the brink of pain, though without actually hurting me, and he increased his pace. I heard the sound of my doors unlocking and remembered he had my spare key fob. Damn it, I’d trusted him enough to give him the extra key to my car. Yet another thing for me to regret on the long list of shit in my life.
Opening the trunk, he tossed in my gym bag and slammed it shut before walking around to the passenger’s side and putting me in. “Stay there,” he commanded.
I debated getting out and making a run for it,
but I was still in my work shoes, and those things weren’t exactly made for running. With an enraged shriek, I kicked them off as he slid behind the wheel.
The door shut, and he hit the lock just as I was reaching for the handle. Turning on the car, he reversed, stirring up dust as he peeled out of the parking lot and hit the highway, taking us back in the direction of the clubhouse. I sat there, quietly seething.
“Cut your damn nails,” he muttered two minutes into the drive, his thumb rubbing over the still bleeding scratch I gave his face as I fought against his dressing me like a damn toddler.
“Fuck you.”
“I told you not to go to work,” he gritted out.
“Fuck you.”
“It’s too dangerous for you to be out alone.”
“Fuck you.”
“Will you chill the fuck out and listen to me?” Colt snapped. “I’m trying to protect you.”
“Fuck. You.”
The car swerved and then stopped so suddenly with a squeal of my brakes that I fell forward. My head would have hit the dashboard if he hadn’t shot out his arm to catch me. A cloud of dust surrounded the exterior of the car, and I realized we were on the side of the road just a few miles from the clubhouse.
