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“Where’s the Jeep?” I ask as we walk out into the sunshine, and I don’t see Rogue’s favorite ride anywhere.
It’s a little chilly.I tug my jacket closer as I glance at the row of cars parked out front of the apartment.The neighbor’s BMW and Adira’s Tesla then Jaffa then…hang on, back up. “What the hell?”
“What?” Rogue asks.
If my heart could race out of my chest it would. My little orange pocket rocket is missing from her usual spot. In its place is a shiny white Mercedes. “Jaffa is gone. Someone’s stolen my car.”
“Ivy, no one stole that hunk of junk.” Rogue chuckles like the idea is unbelievable.
And yet… it’s apparently happened. I hold up a finger while I tap in the number for the police on my phone. “I can’t believe someone stole my car.”
“They didn’t steal your car.” Rogue’s hands enclose around my biceps. “This is your car.”
“No.” I frown at the sleek vehicle parked in Jaffa’s space. While I’m sure everyone in the world wishes that Transformers were real and their car could turn from a rusted old Volkswagen Beetle into a brand new Chevy muscle car—or in this case a rusted Honda Civic to a Mercedes—it’s literally not possible. “My car is orange. It has rust. And a lot of duct tape on it. There’s also a terrible, peeling yellow flower decal in the back window. And a stain on the passenger seat. No matter how hard I tried, I could not get all of your blood out.”
“That’s why this is your car,” he says, taking my phone from my hand and disconnecting the call before it picks up. He ushers me forward toward the vehicle that is definitely not mine. “I picked it up this morning. It’s a gift.”
My heart stops as his words sink in. Then rabbits at the implication. “You can’t just buy me a car.”
“Well, that’s news to me, because it’s already done.” His voice is so full of pride.
I can’t look at him. Can’t take in that sexy smirk I hear in his voice.He bought me a car. Even after our conversation about my tuition. I thought I made myself clear.
I shove my shaking fists into my pockets. One of them is still wrapped around my phone and I can feel the soft buzz of consistently getting locked out, but I can’t seem to unclench. My voice trembles as I ask, “Where’s Jaffa?”
“I had the scrap menace towed,” he says, like it’s not a big deal that he went behind my back and got rid ofmycar.
“I want…”breathe,“my car…”breathe,“back right now.” I’ve never been so livid in my life as I turn to face him. I didn’t know it was possible. I’m so used to being in the wrong. So used to backing down, but right now I’m just so…so…furious. She was my first financial step toward independence. Even moving in with Adira meant someone was helping me. Jaffa is the first thing I’ve bought with my own money. On my own. And he took her from me like it doesn’t matter at all.
“I’m sorry, Ivy.” The happy smugness slides from his lips. All that pride in buying me disappears and leaves him looking a little forlorn. “The tow driver took your car to a scrap yard. She’s gone.”
“What scrap yard? Where?” My heart is thundering in my ears as I shove at his chest. I need to find Jaffa before she’s squashed into a cube. “I cannot believe you did this.”
“Baby.” Rogue grips my wrist and refuses to let go. “Your car still had my blood all over the passenger seat. Half the time the engine won’t even turn over. And there are people out there who don’t care if they put you in harm’s way as long as they end up with a picture that will get them paid. I need you to be driving something safe.”
“But I didn’t want it.” I stamp my foot like a brat. His reasoning takes the sting out of my anger, but not the hurt. I can hear Nicole in my ear. Telling me I’m being a child. Telling me I should be grateful for anything I receive. But everything always comes with a price with her. A simple outfit would cost me an evening of playing the dutiful daughter. My education was meant to cost me my hopes and dreams. The price of her love was my unquestioning obedience. My whole identity has been the price of her being my mother.
Until now being with Rogue didn’t come with a price. Everything he’s wanted from me, I’ve given freely. “I asked you not to spend money on me.”
“You asked me not to pay your tuition, and I didn’t. But this is an essential. This is for my peace of mind. I worry about you riding around in that broken down piece of junk.” His baby blues turn steely as he pushes his point. His grip on my wrist tightens even as he brings our joined hands to our sides so we don’t look like we’re in a full blown argument. “Please, don’t take this the wrong way. I’m not trying to take control. Just let me do this one thing.”
I glance around in case one of those shutterbugs are watching, then turn my gaze to the vehicle. It’s probably nice inside. Smooth on the roads. And I won’t have to check the leads all the time. And he’s right about the paparazzi. The other night when we evaded them in his Jeep; that was scary. So maybe I am overreacting, but I still can’t be in debt to him. I just can’t. I’ve worked so hard to find my own way. I can’t lose myself now. As much as I want to cool down I can’t. “Can I pay you back?”
“If I say yes, will you eventually forget about it?” His eyes crinkle in the corners as he searches my face in the hopes of finding the answer he wants.
“No.” I shake my head.
“Then no.” The words drop from his lips like cement. Hard. Backed by frustration. “You’re my girl. And I’m not going to act like you’re not when it comes to things like this, just because it makes you a little uncomfortable. I want to buy you things that you deserve and things that I think you might like.”
“You bought me a car.” I whip my arm out to indicate the sedan. “That’s not a little uncomfortable.”
“I’m not trying to buy you,” he grits out between his teeth. There’s anger and insult in his eyes. Refusing to let him care about me, let him in, it’s hurting him. Nothing makes that clearer than when he adds, “I’m not like your family, Ivy. I’m not them. I’m not giving you a car so I can hold it over you. I don’t want you to feel obligated to me because I treat you like you’re important to me. You are important to me. Fuck. Don’t you understand how much you matter to me?”
Hearing him say that takes my freak-out from a simmer to nothing. He’s nothing like my mother and brother, and buying me a gift, albeit a ridiculously expensive one, doesn’t automatically come with an ulterior motive. Well, it does, but the motive in this case is my safety. Because Rogue is a good man.
It makes my heart catch in my throat. Surely, I can agree to this. Get used to him showing me he cares. I throw myself into his arms. “I’m sorry.”
He catches me with both arms tight around me. His chest rises and expands in the circle of my embrace. His breath is heavy in my hair. The heat of it strokes my scalp. He swallows and the tension in him starts to ease. “Are you sorry because you think I’m angry? Or because you understand where I’m coming from? You matter to me, baby.”
