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“Got nothing to say now, I see? You going to traffic me too? Is that why you brought me here? To test the wares?”
His jaw clenches, and his eyes darken. He’s the picture of barely contained rage, and for some reason, I’m not afraid. I’m still furious and waiting for whatever pretty words he thinks will make me forget this horrible revelation.
“The Reckless Souls doesn’t fucking traffic anyone. Not ever. You shouldn’t trust everything you hear.”
“Yeah,” I agree and get in his face. I step closer and poke his hard, wide chest. “I shouldn’t believe everything I hear, and I don’t, including what comes out of your fucking mouth!”
“Gia,” he growls, and the sound reverberates from the tip of my finger all the way down my arms and legs before pooling between my thighs.
“Don’t bother trying to come up with a reasonable explanation either because there is nothing you can say to explain it away.”
His calm demeanor is so damn frustrating it makes me want to scream.
“So, you don’t trust me?”
“Give me one reason I should?”
“I haven’t given you one fucking reason not to trust me, Gia. Every single time you throw a tantrum I come after you. When you throw yourself in harm’s way, I’m there to save you. So, please, tell me who else you should trust more than me.”
I laugh again, and it’s mostly sarcastic that he thinks so highly of his place in my life.
“Sure, Preacher. You’ve saved me a time or two, but make no mistake, there is only one person in the whole goddamn world that I trust. Ro.”
He blinks, and his spine stiffens. “So your friend told you my MC trafficked humans? Who ishersource?”
“There is no fucking source, Preacher! I saw it for myself with my own eyes.” I brush past him and bump his shoulders with a grunt as I make my way to the living room.
“Gia, stop.”
His words stop me, and I turn to face him. “I was doing some digging on the dark web to see what else I could find on the Iron Kings, figuring I could use some leverage if—or when—they finally come after me for real.”
He steps in close enough that the smell of his cologne snakes into my nose and buries itself in my brain. “And?”
“And I saw it for myself. Women and children up for sale by the Reckless Souls. I. Saw. It.”
“You’re wrong,” he says because what the fuck else is he gonna say?
I shake my head and attempt to go around him, totally fucking done with this conversation.
“I’m not wrong, and I’m also done with this conversation. It’s getting us nowhere.”
I take the stairs up to Preacher’s bedroom two at a time, eager to get my shit and get the hell out of here. I toss what I have in the duffel bag, realizing I have to get the rest of my clothes from the dryer before I leave.
I give the room one final sweep to make sure nothing is left behind and turn toward the door, where Preacher stands with his arms across his chest and a dark look on his face.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Somewhere else.” I step around him, and his hand shoots out to grip the doorway, trapping me inside the room.
“You’re not going anywhere. The Kings are after you in case you’ve forgotten?”
I laugh. “And I’m safer here with you? For all I know, you’re going to sell me too.”
Preacher pushes me against the dresser beside the door and presses his body against mine.
“I have plans for you, Gia, but they don’t include letting anyone but me put their hands on you.”
“Bullshit.”
