Page 20 of Rough & Ruthless

He stops dead in his tracks. He turns to look at me, frozen by my confession. His dark eyes search mine, a flash of profound hurt breaking through the anger.

"You snuck out?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper. "Why? Is it me? Am I that terrible to be with, Soraya? Because I can change. I can⁠—"

He’s spiraling, his fierce confidence unraveling right before my eyes. I slide off the edge of the mattress and close the distance between us, placing a steadying hand flat against his broad chest, hoping to calm the raging storm inside him.

"No," I say, my voice as sweet and soft as I can make it. "Stryker, no. I would never abandon you. How could I, after everything you’ve done to protect me? After everything we’ve shared?”

His brow furrows, genuine confusion taking over his features. "Then why, sunflower? Why did you leave?"

I sigh heavily, my shoulders dropping in defeat as I look away from his intense gaze. He immediately wraps his large hand over mine, keeping my palm pressed firmly against his thudding heart.

"When I went to the bathroom at the clubhouse," I begin, my voice trembling again. "I was washing my hands, and I noticed a burner phone resting on the windowsill. It buzzed." I swallow hard, forcing myself to look up at him. "I opened the message. It was a close-up, timestamped photo of you. You were standing next to your bike, looking up at this beautiful log cabin."

Stryker’s breath hitches, but his face goes terrifyingly blank. My heart drops straight into my stomach. I can’t read him at all. Is he pissed? Hurt? Ready to kick me out?

"The message..." I rush on, panic bleeding into my words, "it said they had the President in their sights. It told me to come out back right then, alone, or you would die."

He remains motionless, a stone statue.

"I knew you were already overwhelmed," I explain frantically. "You've been dealing with the missing product, with all the club business. I couldn’t just ignore the threat, Stryker. Your life was on the line! I thought my note would satisfy you, keep you at the clubhouse while I dealt with everything. But I was wrong. I was so wrong and so stupid. I’m so sorry."

I wait for him to say something. Anything. When he doesn't, the heavy silence urges me to confess the rest.

"I went out the back window. There was a waiting car with tinted windows. Before I could even think, rough hands grabbed me and pulled me inside. When the car finally entered the abandoned shipping yard, they shoved me out."

"Who was in the hoodie?" Stryker asks. His voice is a low, grinding noise that sounds like it physically hurts him to push the words out.

"He... he said he was going to set up a meeting between me and his boss to negotiate terms," I stammer. "Stryker, I was fully prepared to give my life for yours. I would have traded everything. But then you showed up." The dam breaks. Tears spill hot and fast down my cheeks, and I let out a choked sob. "I failed you," I cry, my hands gripping his shirt. "I failed you, I failed the club, and you still have a massive target on your back because of me!"

He completely surprises me. Instead of stepping away, his large hands come up to cup my face. He tilts my head back and presses his warm lips firmly against my forehead, breathing me in like I’m his oxygen.

"You could never fail me," he rumbles against my skin. "You could never disappoint me. God, Soraya, I am completely unworthy of your loyalty. I can’t even begin to comprehend why you would sacrifice yourself for me like that." He pulls back just enough to lock his dark, fierce eyes with mine. "But promise me. Promise me you will never do anything like that ever again."

"But Stryker—" I start to protest.

He kisses me, a hard, desperate press of his lips against mine that instantly stops the flow of my words. When we finally break apart, we're both breathless.

"I will always have a target on my back," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. "That’s just what it’s like being the President of this MC.” Panic seizes my lungs at the thought, but he gently brushing his thumbs across my cheeks. "The club has my back, Soraya. My brothers protect me, and I’ve survived this long."

"I have your back, too," I whisper, wiping a tear from my cheek. "I just want to be useful to you."

He softens, a heartbreakingly tender smile touching his lips as he reaches up to smooth my hair back from my face. "You give me everything just by being here," he murmurs. "Don't you know you’re the most important person in my life? You’re the one who sits with me in the darkness and brings the light with you. No one else can do that. Only you. And it’s my job to keep you safe... which I can't do if you won't talk to me, or if you run away."

More tears prick my eyes, overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of his devotion. "I'm so sorry."

His thumb grazes my lower lip. "Don't say sorry, sunflower," he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave, filled with raw need. "Just kiss me."

I do. I rise up on my toes and press my mouth to his, pouring every ounce of my love and relief into the kiss. Rolling my body against his, I moan as every cell screams to be taken by him again and again.

Stryker presses his hips into me, letting me feel his need as well. He backs me into a wall and licks the shell of my ear before pulling my earlobe through his teeth. My breath catches in my throat and my pussy grinds down on his hard length.

“Gonna fuck you against this wall if you keep that up. Is that what you want?”

I nod as he sucks on my neck, leaving little love bites on the tender skin there.

“Need your words, Soraya. Tell me what you want,” he growls into my skin. I’m lost in the feeling of his teeth, his tongue, the way he’s devouring me. His hand drops from my hip to my inner thigh. I part my legs for him as he skims his fingers up, up, up.

“Jesus, you’re dripping for me,” he groans, sliding a finger up my slit. “Say it, Soraya. Tell me what you want.”