Page 113 of Truck Up
I shake my head and frantically wipe my eyes. He doesn’t deserve my tears right now. I’m too mad for that. “I don’t give a shit. It’s not about whether or not you’ll win or lose. It’s that you did it at all.”
“Baby.” He rushes toward me and wraps his arms around me before I can escape. I punch my fists into this chest and push him away.
“Don’t baby me. Do you have any idea how foolish I feel right now?”
“This isn’t about you,” Linden says. “This is between Christian and me.”
“This is one hundred percent about me! You two made a bet over me!” I stare at him like he’s the biggest idiot on this planet. He actually has the decency to look worried. I know he doesn’t care if my relationship with Christian survives this, but at least he seems to care about me. I drop my head and hide my face behind my hands. “Just once I want to be enough for someone. Is that too much to ask?”
“Baby, you are enough for me.” Christian’s voice trembles. When I meet his eyes, I suck in a breath. For the first time since I met Christian, I see fear in his eyes. “Please, angel.”
I shake my head and step back. “Then why did you bet our relationship in a fucking game of poker?”
I turn to leave, but he slides his arm around my waist and holds me close. “Please, don’t do this.”
Tears run down my cheeks. I can no longer hold them back. “Just let me go.”
As soon as he does, I rush out of the game room before either of them can give me another stupid excuse. They cantry to justify their decision all they want, but it won’t make a difference.
Linden never should have made the bet, and Christian ever should have taken it.
Christian calls my name several times as I run toward the exit, but I don’t stop. I’m too upset with him right now to discuss this further.
I run out the door and into the cool night air so fast that I don’t notice the person standing right outside and I slam into him.
My entire body turns rigid and a fear I’ve only ever known from one person consumes me.
Even before his hands come up and grab me by the arms, I know who it is. I don’t need to see his face or hear his voice. I sense Badger’s presence anytime he’s nearby.
“Let me go.” I press against his chest to get away from him, but he’s stronger than me.
He backs me up against the building and presses his body against mine. When he leans down to press his nose to my neck and takes a deep breath, my throat tightens and my mouth waters. I fight the urge to vomit all over him.
“Christian will kill you.” My voice trembles. It’s an accurate statement, but I just ran away from him. If he doesn’t follow me, I’m trapped.
Images of that dreadful night rush to the forefront of my mind. Trapped between my car and Badger’s body just like this. Only that night, he ripped my clothes off and attempted to violate me in the worst way imaginable.
“He’s not here, princess.” He sneers and runs his nose along my chin. “But don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you.”
I struggle to get free, but he tightens his grip on my arms to the point it hurts. “Please, stop. You’re hurting me.”
His grip on me loosens, and his expression turns blank. It’s as if he didn’t even realize how hard he was holding onto me.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says. His voice is filled with pain. It’s confusing and in contrast to how he always talks to me.
“Then let me go.” I insist.
He shakes his head. “I can’t. You belong with me.”
I push on his chest as hard as I can, and he stumbles backward. It’s enough that I can sneak past him and escape his cage. I rush to my car, thankful I parked it so close.
“No!” he yells. His hand wraps around my wrist and tugs hard. I fly backwards and crash into his chest. “I’m not done talking to you.”
I punch and kick, refusing to let him take me. “We have nothing to talk about.”
The moment I wrench my arm free, the bar door explodes open, and Christian bursts through, a whirlwind of fury. He freezes mid-stride, his eyes locking onto Badger, a silent, simmering rage radiating from him.
Without a word, he launches himself at Badger, slamming him against the cool metal of my car. The anger on his face is terrifying, raw and primal. It’s clear—Christian’s hatred for Badger burns hotter than any I’ve ever witnessed. His fists rain down, each blow a thunderous testament to the rage consuming him.