Outlaw (Evil Dead MC 1)

Cole studied the girl. He could see the mistrust in her eyes. He exhaled slowly. “Look, I know you got no reason”—he shook his head to emphasize the point—“no reason at all to trust me, but I just want to get you out of here.” His eyes searched hers. “I swear.”

“Why would you want to do that? I heard what happened here. I’m not deaf. You took me in trade for a gambling debt,” she said, her voice escalating as she went. “I’m just a payment.”

Cole stepped closer, got right in her face. She needed to understand this. “Darlin’, my whole purpose in getting him in this room was to take you away from him. I don’t give a shit about that debt. I’ll get my money, one way or another.” He looked right in her eyes. “I did all this to get to you.”

That shut her up.

She took a deep breath and swayed on her feet. He could see she looked ready to drop.

“Here, sweetheart, sit down.” He guided her to a chair and pulled up another, sitting facing her. He noticed she was trembling and glaring at him at the same time, her eyes flashing with a combination of fear and fury. He reached to brush the hair back from her face, and she instinctively pulled back. He hesitated only a moment, his palm suspended in the air a few inches from her temple. Looking into her eyes he again promised, “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Her gaze dropped to her lap, and he softly brushed the hair back from her face. The side of her jaw was bruised, her lip split. He gently tilted her face to get a better look at the injury inflicted on her by Chuck, and their eyes connected. “He beat up on you pretty bad, huh?”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. He could see the proof on her face, arms, and legs. He glanced down at her wrists and reached for her cuffed hands.

She sucked in her breath at the pain that shot through her tender wrists, her eyes watching his hands.

“I know it hurts, baby. I’m sorry.” He carefully examined her wrists. They were badly bruised, and the metal was cutting into her skin so tightly that they were cut and bleeding. He looked back at her face, his eyes running over her features. She was still looking down.

“We’re not all like him,” he told her softly. She looked up at him then, and he was again struck by the beautiful emerald green color of her eyes. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

She licked her swollen, dry lips and whispered, “Angel.”

His mouth curved into a grin. “Angel?”

She glared at him, and he could guess that people must have teased her about her name her whole life.

“Pretty as one.”

She looked away and asked in a whisper, “Even after what he did to my face?”

“How old are you, Angel?” he asked.

“Twenty-one.”

Cole exhaled. “Well, at least you’re legal. Barely.”

She glanced up at him sharply.

He smiled. “You look a lot younger, that’s all.”

Her eyes shifted away in annoyance.

He watched her a moment, and then raised his hand and gently took her jaw, turning her face up to his “There’s something I have to ask you.” She stared at him as he hesitated. He searched her eyes. “Did he rape you?”

She pulled her face away from his hand.

Cole waited, but still she stayed silent. “Is that a yes, then?” he asked softly.

She gave a barely discernable nod, but wouldn’t look at him.

“Shit.” He ran his hand over her hair. “I’m sorry.”

She pulled her head away from him.

“Look at me, Angel.”

She resisted.

“Look at me,” he insisted, the tone of his voice deepening.

Finally, she looked into his eyes.

“No one’s going to hurt you again. Not him. Not me. That’s a promise.” She just stared at him, and he could tell she didn’t believe him. They looked at each other a long moment, and then he shook his head as if giving up. “All right.”

Just then her cell phone went off. Cole glanced at the pink phone lying on the table playing the ring tone for the theme song from Cops. He stared down at the screen, which was lit up with the incoming caller’s name. It read, Dad.

Cole’s gaze cut back to her.

Holy shit.

“A cop? Your dad’s a cop?”

She didn’t say anything.

He stood, running his hands through his hair. “Holy fucking shit,” he whispered. She watched as he paced, and then turned back to her. “Did Chuck know?”

She shook her head.

He paced back over to the table and leaned down putting his palms down on the table and lowered his head. He stood that way silently thinking, his eyes darting over the surface of the table.

She jumped when he slammed his palm into the table and cursed. Then he sat back down in the chair, and leaned back and looked at her. He ran his hand over his jaw slowly and exhaled. “How the fuck am I going to let you go now?”

The full meaning of what he’d just said must have hit her.

“I won’t say anything. I promise.”

Cole smiled, “Yeah, sure. You’re not a very good liar, Angel.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re right. It is a lie. I hope he kills all of you.”

He studied her for a moment, imagining the horrors she’d endured. Some of the injuries were plainly visible. He could only guess there were more that were not, both physical and emotional. Considering all she’d been through he couldn’t really blame her for the attitude. “Yeah, I bet you do.”

She looked away. “You’re all a bunch of animals. Nothing but assholes who—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” he warned in a dangerous voice. She was giving him lip. That wasn’t something he was used to or willing to put up with. He saw his mistake. He’d tried to be nice to her; shown her some kindness and now she thought he was going to allow this behavior. He’d overlook it this time, because of all she’d been through. But hell, so far she’d spit in his face, hit him, and pulled a gun on him, and all he was trying to do was get her the hell out of here. The last thing he was going to do was take backtalk from her. He needed to set her straight on that right from the start. “That mouth’s gonna get you in trouble. I don’t take lip from anyone, especially a female, do you understand?”

She nodded.

“How the hell did you come to be here? Tell me that.”