Page 18 of July 27

"Yeah." He cleared his throat.

She was making too big of a deal out of the cat. It was just a stray needing a home. He thought the kitten could keep her company. Maybe help her adapt after the kidnapping.

He scratched the back of his head. He hadn't thought things through when he got the idea to surprise her with the cat. All he wanted to do was see her again. But the cat would need a litterbox and food.

"I'm gonna ride around and find a store that's open." He stepped toward the door. "I'll be back. Lock the door."

"Mm-hm." She rubbed her cheek against the kitten's fur, following him.

He stepped outside and waited for the click of the lock. Then, he walked to his motorcycle. He'd leave once he had her set up to take care of a pet.

Rachel would survive on her own. She had the cat to love on now.

Chapter Nine

From the back corner of the building, Rachel watched the door to the Havlin Motorcycle Club clubhouse. Sometime tonight, Ruger would have to come out to have a cigarette, and then she'd be able to see and talk with him.

A Havlin member started his motorcycle. Rachel stepped around the corner and pressed against the building, staying out of the light from the streetlight. She would've called him, but he never put his phone number in the cell he'd given her.

But with that phone, she could call an Uber driver to bring her to Seaglass Cove instead of stealing a car.

She also was able to have food delivered to her door.

All of that was done with the money Ruger gave her.

She still hadn't heard anything from her brother. Corbin stopped every couple of days, asking if she needed anything. She could tell by the way he asked that he expected her to go and get groceries by herself.

Even though Ruger wasn't with her, he continued to care for her. She used his money little by little, trying to stretch it as far as she could because she wasn't ready to go out and get a job yet.

The headlight of the motorcycle lit up the alley. She sucked in her breath and held still as the rider rode past her. It wasn't against the law to stand outside of the club. She was on public property within the city limits.

She came because it was Friday night. A night when the Havlin members partied. From her time in the clubhouse, she'd watched Ruger go out and get a drink or go out and have a cigarette when parties were happening inside.

Moving around the corner of the building, she stopped where she could keep the door in view.

When Ruger first took care of her at the clubhouse, she'd clung to him because he represented safety. He'd more than taken care of her. He'd saved her life.

He still made her feel safe, but she missed him. Missed him more than she could verbalize. Every second was made up of thinking about him. She wanted to know where he was, what he was doing, who he was thinking about.

Not being near him made her ache, and for how much she tried to tell herself it was because she was safe with him, it was more.

She'd never known another person to the level she knew Ruger.

During the time she was kidnapped, she dealt with every bodily function while handcuffed next to him. She'd felt every kick and punch he'd taken to protect her. After a while, Ruger started to talk about his life. She got to know Katrina through her dad. He'd mentioned his time in prison and learning about his baby sister, who he hadn't known existed until right before Ruger found her.

She'd clung to his stories. They were real to her. More real than her life, where she pretended Shady was always there for her—he was in prison. And that the people who kidnapped her were never coming back.

Even standing outside the clubhouse in the middle of the night was more comfortable than sitting alone in the apartment with Knight— short for knight in shining armor. She'd named the cat after Ruger, who swept in and rescued her from an impossible situation.

Men in her life weren't heroes. Ruger was a different breed.

The backdoor swung open. The music grew louder until the door shut again. In the light, she spotted Ruger lighting a cigarette.

Rachel's stomach fluttered. She'd had boyfriends before. Three, to be exact. None of them ever made her excited, nervous, afraid, and happy simultaneously. The constant state of emotions made her feel more fragile.

She inched closer. Now that he was in view, she wasn't sure about approaching him. Maybe he was enjoying the night with one of the women that hung around the clubhouse.

Her stomach rolled, making her nauseous. She hated the idea that he was involved with someone else.