Rage (Royal Bastards MC 2)

“Yes. The bed was amazing. And the shower…” I look to the heavens, “Perfection.” His eyes roam over my dress, and he does the thing with his ear, stroking the lobe. “I was thinking we could maybe pop to the store today and grab you some things.”

Oh God, I don’t have money. He must know that. Does he mean he’ll pay? Do I want to owe him?

“Willa.” He comes over to me, taking my wrists and holding them ever so lightly. “I can see your mind racing. I just want you to have some things, like clothes, nightwear, woman shit. I’m a man and don’t have anything that fits you. I will pay for it and expect nothing in return. Okay?”

“I feel bad. You’ve done enough.”

“I’ve done nothing. Let me take a quick shower, it’s hot as hell in here and I’m all sweaty, then we can grab breakfast in town and do some shopping. Sound good?”

“Sounds good.” I bite my lip, holding in the stupid grin that wants to spread across my face. Is he even a real person? He’s like a guardian angel. This is too good to be true. My heart begins to pound in my ears, my nerves eating away at my stomach. Time will tell.

Ten

Gabe

The mall is the last place I want to be, but Willa needs clothes. She’s wearing a thin little dress that looks like something from Jameson’s baby sister’s wardrobe. Her hands clasp the material like it’s a lifeline. Head bowed, a curtain of brown hair acts as a shield. “You good?” I nudge her arm, and she startles, then lets out an awkward laugh.

“Yes. Sorry. I’ve never been allowed to come to the mall. Everything feels loud and busy.” She moves closer to me, shrugging.

The ball of fiery rage sitting in the pit of my stomach since the night I found her flares, flames licking at my frayed restraint. I want to peel her brother’s skin from his skeleton, carve my name into his bones, and put them on display for her.

I coax her inside a store and gesture to some jeans, feeling way out of my depth. I’ve been wearing the same cut of Levi’s for fifteen years.

“Anything you like?” I ask, smiling down at her, clenching my hands to keep from reaching out and un-tugging her fat bottom lip from her teeth as she looks around, blinking rapidly.

“There’s so much.” Her tone is thick, heat spreading up her neck.

A woman with a broad smile, waltzes over to us. “Hello. What can I help you with today?”

I look at her name badge. “Sarah, this is Willa. She requires a new wardrobe. Underwear, PJs, socks, shoes, and anything else she decides she likes.” Willa’s mouth pops open, her gaze studying mine. I give her a gentle nod in assurance.

“Oh, wonderful. Willa, let’s get you a changing room,” Sarah offers, hooking her arm with Willa’s and dragging her across the store like they’re best friends. Willa’s body resists. She looks back at me over her shoulder, her eyes wide in horror. Shit.

“Hold up.” I holler, trudging to catch up with them. I hold my finger up to the woman, signaling for her to give us a minute and take Willa’s hand in mine. Her petite fingers curl around my larger ones. A sigh whooshes from her lungs as she moves in real fucking close. Brown eyes coated in a sheen of tears peer up at me. Her lip quivers. Fuck this. Cupping her cheek, I hold her gaze. “If this is too much for you?”

Her throat bobs as she swallows her unease. “Can you stay with me?”

The urge to pull her against my chest is so strong, my muscles twitch, flexing beneath the flesh. “Of course I can.”

We leave the shop with only a couple pairs of jeans and a few shirts, neither of which she tried on. After the clerk started suggesting lacy underwear, Willa began hyperventilating, so I paid for what she’d picked out and we left.

“You want to go get some fresh air, then maybe go somewhere for dinner?” I question.

“Like, eat inside somewhere?” She freezes, taking in her surroundings, then moves in closer to my body like she’s trying to hide within my shadow.

“Yeah, you can pick a restaurant…” Stark fear glistens in her eyes so vividly, it steals the breath from my lungs. I rest a hand on her shoulder and lower to my knees to capture her eyes. “Hey, we don’t have to do that. We can just go back home if you want and order in.”

Reaching forward and clasping my shirt, she says, “Maybe we can go for some groceries?” She nods her head as her fingers twist the material of my shirt. “I can cook for you again to say thank you. What’s your favorite?”