She’d threatened to go to the media if he didn’t support her friend financially and stop seeing her romantically. He’d laughed and said his lawyers would handle it and her “gold-digging” friend would never see a dime. He’d then threatened to cut her off if she went to the media. So she cut herself off and stormed out of the house determined never to return. Maybe had this been the first twisted offense her father had committed, Cassie would have considered forgiving him, but her father’s sexual proclivities had him in hot water on more than a few occasions.
He was part of the wealthy, corporate, high society elite, yet he was far trashier than the man sitting beside her. The man her father would consider the lowest of low. She wanted no part of that life anymore. It was chock full of lies, manipulation, and greed.
“No, I don’t.” Absently, she rubbed her sore wrist. “Have anywhere to go that is.”
Viper took hold of her right forearm. Lifting it to his eyes level, he studied the angry red gouges she received struggling against the ropes. “Shit. I didn’t think to bring a first aid kit. There won’t be anything here.” Once again, his touch was so gentle she’d have never thought it possible.
“It’s okay. It can wait until we, uh, I get somewhere.”
With a heavy sigh, he pressed his lips to the raw marks. Cassie gasped as electricity shot straight up her arms and to her nipples.
Before she had a chance to say anything, he repeated the gesture with her other, un-harmed wrist then lowered them to her lap. “I’m heading to Oregon tonight to hole up for a few days. When it’s safe, my buddy and I are driving out east. You can come with us tonight then decide what to do from there. You just can’t ever tell anyone what happened here tonight.”
Her head spun with the new information. “But, wait, you’re leaving your club?”
He nodded, solemn as ever. “Won’t be welcome once they realize we let you go.”
Wide-eyed, she shook her head. “We can come up with a lie. I’ll say I knocked you out or something. You can’t give up your life for me.”
The smile he gave her was sad, almost defeated. “You think I could stay with those men knowing what they’re doing to women? Knowing what they were doing to you?”
Their gazes locked in a stare that felt far too intimate considering they’d met ten minutes prior. “I don’t know you,” she whispered.
Another sigh. “No, you don’t, do you?” The words were as sorrowful as his eyes. Rising, he moved to the door. “We leave in two hours. You’re free to roam about, but I wouldn’t recommend going outside. Don’t want to risk anyone seeing you. Think I got some sweatpants in my saddle bags. I’ll go check.”
The moment he was gone, the left side of her chest started to ache. Rubbing it with her palm she rose. A few trips around the room worked the kinks out of most of her leg muscles. Her stomach made a very unladylike growl, sending her into the hallway in search of food. What she found had her once again surprised. Viper stood at the stove, cracking eggs and flipping bacon.
“Pants are on the table. You hungry?” he asked, back to her.
How had he known she was there? She’d been virtually silent tiptoeing down the hallway. “Um, yeah, I really am.” She slowly started into the room uncertain of how to act. This entire situation as way beyond bizarre. Five minutes ago, she’d had the feeling she’d offended him by insinuating he’d stay with his club, and now he was cooking for her? “Can I help?”
“Nah, just sit that pretty ass down. I’ll be done in ten minutes.”
Almost exactly ten minutes later, he slid a plate in front of her. It was piled high with fluffy scrambled eggs, crisp bacon, and two pieces of dry white toast.
“Sorry,” he said. “No butter.”
She laughed, a small giggle at first, but it morphed into an uncontrollable belly laugh.
Viper watched her with a look of fascination on his face. “Oh my god,” she said, struggling for control. “I’m losing my mind. No butter. Sure do wish that was my biggest problem right now.”
He gave her a genuine smile. “You’re something else, you know that?”
Her mouth turned down. “What do you mean?”
“You’re tough. Not once have you cried, freaked out, yelled, panicked. And you’re smart. I can see you assessing every situation before you speak. Plus, you’re gorgeous. The whole goddamn package.”
Warmth filled her. Finally, after hours and hours in the shack, she was pleasantly warm. Almost too warm.
“I’ll come with you,” she said, heat rushing to her cheeks.
Fork halfway to his mouth, he said, “Huh?”
“I’ll come with you to Oregon. If the offer’s still on the table.”