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Her eyes sprang open, and she saw Doom’s face was filled with a mixture of agonizing pain and fury.
“What are you doing here?”
CHAPTER 26
THE RETALIATION
“I live here.”
Arden dropped the basket she had been swinging at Doom. “I’m so sorry,” she gasped out at his reddened eyes. Then she grabbed one of his arms and started urging him along the small walkway to the steps. “Don’t you know not to startle a woman in the middle of the night?”
His furious face turned toward her, making her cringe at seeing the pain she had inflicted on him.
“How was I supposed to know you were coming out at the same time I was coming in to check on you?” he snarled.
She led Doom up the steps and managed to take her keys out of her sweatpants. Opening her apartment door, she ushered him toward the kitchen sink. She turned the faucet on and maneuvered him closer.
“Bend down,” she instructed.
“So you can drown me?” he snapped snidely, but did as told.
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not like I meant to hurt you. You just scared me because it’s so late at night.”
“What in the fuck are you doing washing your clothes at this time of night, anyway?”
Arden started splashing cold water on his eyes. “It’s the only time the machines aren’t full.”
“Yeah… Because they don’t want their bodies found in the morning.”
“No one would hurt me here.”
“No one would hurt me,” he mimicked her. “Be fucking real. There isn’t a fucker here who wouldn’t cut off your body parts to make a fucking dime.”
“That’s not true.” She continued to splash water on his face, then opened a drawer to take out a clean dish cloth. Soaking the cloth, she placed it in his hands. “Here, press this to your face but don’t rub. Take off your shirt. I’ll be right back. I’m going to find you something to wear.”
She rushed to her bedroom and opened a drawer in her bureau, taking out a large T-shirt that her father used to wear, then carried it back to the kitchen. Her hands went to the towel pressed to Doom’s face.
“Let me see.”
Doom resisted her effort, asking, “Where’s the pepper spray?”
She wanted to bop him with the shirt but resisted the urge.
“I must have dropped it when I realized it was you.”
Doom lowered the hand towel.
Arden tried controlling her expression at the sight of his swollen eyes.
“How bad is it?”
“Perhaps I should drive you to the emergency room.”
Doom turned the water back on and lowered his head back under the stream.
“It’ll wear off. I’m not going to the emergency room. The brothers would never let me live it down.”
“That’s ridiculo—”
“Arden—calling me ridiculous while my eyes feel as if they’ve had a hot poker stuck in them might not be in your best interest.”
“Okay… You don’t have to be so snippy. Jesus… I said I’m sorry. When did you move in, anyway?”
“Yesterday.”
“I thought you have a room at the club?”
“I gave it up. Looking for a place anyway, I thought I’d check out where you told me you lived. Imagine my surprise when I pulled in across the street only to find out you live in this dump. Since I’m such a good guy I decided to sacrifice my own comfort to play bodyguard to you.”
“How are your eyes?” she returned sarcastically. “They look like they hurt.”
A small shriek escaped her when Doom wrapped his hand around her neck, jerking her into his chest.
“Little girl—be very careful. I’m about one centimeter away from me showing you just what I fucking mean. Did you even fucking think before you barged into The Last Riders’ clubhouse? If you had come barging into any other biker hangout the way you did ours, you wouldn’t be standing here; you’d still be at the other club, being used by anyone with a hard-on.” He gave a sarcastic laugh, which had her recoiling from his touch. Doom turned sideways and pressed her body into the kitchen counter, preventing her escape.
“They would have laughed in your face when you threatened to call the cops. You were naïve as fuck when you thought I wasn’t going to rape you because it was an office and not a bedroom. If you’ve learned nothing else since you’ve started coming to the club, you should know we don’t need a bedroom to fuck.
“But coming to The Last Riders’ club is the least of your screwups,” he growled disdainfully. “You moved into what can only be classified as a shithole, filled with sketchy motherfuckers. I could break your door down with a shove of my shoulder, much less an addict needing money for his next fix. You think because you’re nice to them, they’ll leave you alone? They’ll slit your throat and party next to your fucking body. The only reason I’m willing to bet they haven’t is because Mama sent the Yeti over here to threaten the motherfucking hell out of them.”
