Corrupting Cinderella (33 page)

The fact that she has to stop and think about it is all I need to know. I’ve got fuck all in the way of food at my house, so once I get her settled in her car, I tap out a few texts to remedy that situation.

I get Hope inside my house and settled on the couch before she conks out. After covering her with a blanket, I walk back into the kitchen. I’m not waiting long before Hoot shows up with a bag of Chinese takeout.

“Axel should be by in a few with groceries,” he huffs out after setting the bag on the counter.

“Good. I need one of you to go down to Hope’s office, grab my bike, and bring it here.” Hoot seems a little shocked I’m willing to let either of them near my bike, but it’s the last thing I’m worried about.

“No problem.”

Like a good little prospect, he goes outside to wait for Axel.

Kicking off my boots, I contemplate the wisdom of waking Hope. She needs her rest, but she also needs to eat something. As I pad back into the living room, I’m struck by how fucking tiny and fragile she looks burrowed into my couch. All the awful possibilities of what could have happened had I not been there tear through my brain. The irony of the attack having nothing to do with me or the club is something I set aside to examine later.

Hope looks so peaceful, I don’t want to startle her. Gently, I brush my fingers over her cheek, pushing her hair behind her ear. “Hope, baby, dinner’s here.”

“Hmmm,” she mumbles. She blinks a few times before looking up at me. A soft smile is the first expression she has when she meets my gaze, and my heart jumps.

I’m almost too choked up to speak. “You want to eat here or in the kitchen?” I ask while nodding at the coffee table.

She throws back the blanket and sits up. “Kitchen. Let me run to the bathroom, and I’ll meet you in there.” She stands and winces, then rolls her shoulders. “I hurt everywhere.”

I’m itching to run my hands over her, but I don’t want to add to any of her aches.

She glances down at her rumpled clothes. “Do you have something I can change into?”

“Yeah, of course. Give me a sec.”

She runs down to the bathroom, and I dig through some clean laundry in the mudroom. I tap on the bathroom door, and she answers in her underwear. Normally I’d be primed to jump her, but the bruising over the delicate skin of her stomach, thighs and upper arms has me knotted into such a murderous fit I can’t even think straight.

“Christ, I’m going to kill that fucker.”

Her eyes widen in surprise. “It looks worse than it feels.”

I know she’s lying because she told me not five minutes ago how bad she was hurting.

I hand over the clothes and press a quick kiss to her cheek. “Hurry, dinner’s getting cold,” I croak out.

“Okay.” She doesn’t bother closing the door, just slips into the long T-shirt and shorts I gave her.

She curls her fingers around my hand and tugs me to the kitchen. “I’m so far past hungry, I feel sick. But I know I need to eat something,” she says over her shoulder.

Right. Food.

Feed my girl now.

Murder guy later.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

My mind is a mess as we sit down to eat. My stomach rolls, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep anything down. Rock pries the lid off a plastic container of wonton soup and nudges it in front of me. Not really caring what I look like, I pick up the container and suck down a good portion of the broth.

“Stop staring at me, and eat your own dinner,” I mutter, which makes Rock chuckle.

We eat in silence. After the day we’ve had, I’m not sure there’s a whole lot to say.

Rock heard me recount my story to the officers over and over, so nothing needs to be said about that.

The whole incident with Tony seems rather insignificant now. Maybe tomorrow when I reflect on it again, I’ll feel differently, but at the moment I can’t muster up any feelings on the subject.

Rock’s entire body is tense as he watches me.

When I finally push my food away, he puts his hand over mine. “Feel better?”

“I do, actually.” Well, except for the soreness prickling my stomach and legs.

Fear slams into me, and an image of David grabbing me and throwing me against my desk makes me shudder.

“Hope?”

I open my eyes and meet his concerned, stormy-gray stare. “I’m okay.”

Someone bangs on the back door and I rocket out of my seat, slamming my knee into the underside of the table in the process. “Ouch!”

“Shh, calm down. It’s one of the prospects.”

He shouts “come in,” and Axel walks through the door carrying two handfuls of grocery bags. He sets them on the counter and starts quietly putting things away. It amuses me that he seems to know the layout of Rock’s kitchen better than I do, and I drop back into my chair.

“Hey, Axel,” I call out. He turns and glances at Rock before answering.

“How you doin’, Hope?”

I’m not sure what Axel knows, so I just say, “Okay.”

When it looks like he’s almost finished, I ask, “Is Heidi with you?”

His mouth turns down. “No. She’s home.”

“Teller with her?”

“I think so.”

When all the bags are empty, Rock kicks a chair at Axel. Although he seems surprised, he joins us.

“Teller been up to the clubhouse today?” Rock asks Axel.

“Yeah, but he left so he could meet Heidi at the bus stop.” He rolls his eyes.

“I’m sure she loved that,” I say with a snort.

Axel cracks a smile. “Uh, she was pretty pissed. Called and gave me an earful.”

Now Rock chuckles.

“He brought her to see their grandmother,” Axel says with a serious expression, “but I guess that didn’t go too well.”

I raise an eyebrow for him to continue, but he shrugs.

“She didn’t give me any details.”

“Are you hungry, Axel?” I ask, gesturing to the table. It seems rude to have all this food laid out and not offer him any.

“No, thanks, Hope. I already had dinner.” He glances at Rock. “Hoot said you need us to pick up your bike?”

“Yeah. Leave it here.”

Axel nods and stands.

“Give me a second, babe,” Rock says and follows Axel outside.

While they’re gone, I clean up the kitchen. Peering into the fridge, I find that Axel brought over skim milk and some other things that Rock must have told him I’d want. Such a small thing, but it touches me for some reason.

The door bangs shut, and I hear the snick of the lock. Then Rock is wrapping his arms loosely around me. “Baby, I want you resting, not cleaning up the kitchen.”

He steers me into the living room, and we settle on the couch to watch a movie. I barely make it through the opening credits before I’m out. In the distant recesses of my mind, I register the rumble of a motorcycle, Rock speaking softly on the phone, and then nothing.

In the morning, I wake up in Rock’s bed. He’s curled so tight around me, it takes a second to extract myself so I can run to the bathroom.

When I return, he’s sitting up waiting for me. He holds out his hand, and I hurry to wrap myself up in his arms.

“How do you feel today, baby doll?” he rasps in his morning-rough voice.

“Better.” It’s not quite a lie. Almost.

“Do you want to talk about yesterday?” he asks.

My head is resting on his chest, so even when I tip my head up, I can’t really see his face. I trace my fingers over the stubble along his jaw.

“Which part? The attack, or the fact that you’ve been lying to me for a while?”

Whoops.
That came out harsher than I meant. Underneath me, Rock’s body tightens, and for a second he stops breathing.

“Wherever you want to start, doll,” he finally answers.

Propping myself up on one elbow, I move so we’re facing each other. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew Tony?”

He seems surprised. “When? Back then, or now?”

“Don’t be dense. Now.”

His jaw ticks, and I think I might have accidentally insulted him.

“Honestly? It never occurred to me.”

I turn that over in my head. He seems sincere.

“What if we’d run into him somewhere?”

“Babe, we
did
run into him somewhere,” he answers with a wry twist of his lips.

“What made you think you could manipulate my career? Back then,” I add.

He seems puzzled by the question.

“I liked you.” He presses a finger against my lips when I go to speak. I sit up so I can see him better. “Let me finish,” he requests, “I thought you were smart, and I wanted to do something to help you.”

“So, it wasn’t a way to get in my pants?”

Now I think I’ve offended him. It’s pretty clear from his expression that had never occurred to him.

“No.” He sits up quickly and takes my hand. “Fuck, no, Hope. I told you how bad I wanted you, but I also respected you. You know loyalty means something to me.” He taps his fingers against his chest, right below his “Strength from Loyalty” tattoo. “Christ, my ex cheated on me left and right. I knew that day we first kissed you were struggling.”

Heat races across my cheeks as I remember that illicit kiss. Guilt rushes through my gut because at the time I had no business wanting Rock the way I did.

He places a finger under my chin, tipping my head up. “You were struggling, but you said no. I respected that. A lot, Hope. You know as well as I do, you can’t help being attracted to someone, but you
can
chose whether you act on it or not.”

“God, you’re full of yourself,” I grouch.

His laughter rumbles between us. “Be honest. If you hadn’t been married, would you have come home with me that night if I’d asked?”

A different kind of heat streaks through me, but then another memory of that day squelches that fire. “No.”

He quirks an eyebrow.

“I caught you coming out of the closet with Inga. No way would I have wanted to sleep with you a few hours later.”

He doesn’t laugh at me like I expected. “If you hadn’t been strictly off limits, I never would have
been
in that closet with her,” he says with such sincerity I believe every word. After a second, he runs his fingers over my cheek. “I did feel bad about that, you know,” he adds, a pained expression settling over his face.

The way he admits that, the raw emotion in his words, loosens the tightness inside my chest. “Why? You were single and free to do whatever you wanted.”

“I know. But the look on your face bugged the shit out of me for days.”

Wow. That my big, tough, reformed manwhore has no problem admitting this to me erases any leftover doubts from our argument. I’m too choked up to say anything, so I bob my head up and down like a dope.

“That’s all my plan with Tony was, Hope. I’m surrounded by all sorts of crap. You were this bright, sweet, genuinely good person. It was just my way of wanting to do something nice for you, the only way I could figure how.”

If I twist my mindset a bit and see it from his perspective, it makes perfect sense.

“Okay, but you can’t keep sticking your nose in my career, no matter how good your intentions are. Let me figure out what to do on my own.” I thump him lightly on the chest to emphasize my point.

He snatches up my hand and kisses my fingers. “Hope, I’m not that guy. I don’t want you to give up your career for me if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“What are you talking about? I know that. Is that why you keep pushing me?”

“Well, yeah.” A sheepish smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Plus, I like the idea of you doing stuff for the club. It’s like a small way for you to be a part of it.”

“I knew it. You don’t allow women members, do you?”

The sheepish smile turns into a smirk.

I need to take a deep breath. In a small amount of time, he’s admitted a number of stunning things to me. Each one explains so much. I feel like an absolute bitch for the way I’ve treated him.

“Rock, listen. I had these misgivings before we ever got together. The day we met, I think I told you I was struggling financially. Being a lawyer isn’t what I thought it was going to be. I think you understand how much I withdrew from everything after Clay died. So now, I’m trying to figure out what I want to do with myself. Yes, I like spending all the extra time with you. But trust me, I have no intention of giving up my own life to just sit around and wait on you all day, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Well now that you mention it—”

“Please, my vagina needs a break every now and then.”

That gets a good, solid laugh out of him.

“Fair enough, doll.”

“Good, and don’t lie to me anymore.”

He takes a deep breath, signaling this conversation is not finished, even though I thought it was. “I
didn’t
lie to you. If you had asked me for some reason, I would have told you about Tony.”