Reclaim: A Recovered Innocence Novel (21 page)

She tried to get a glimpse of the patches on his vest without him noticing. The ones on his back read
Gods of
Redemption
above with
Arizona
below. In between was the image of a god, his wings raised, thrusting a sword toward the heavens. Next to that were the letters
MC
. She’d watched enough of
Sons of Anarchy
to know that this Gods of Redemption was some kind of outlaw motorcycle club. Which explained the storeowner’s attitude toward Ryder. It explained a lot of things actually.

Had she leapt from one moving train only to end up tied to the tracks of another? Was she safe here with him or had she stumbled into an even more dangerous situation? He wouldn’t be happy when he found out who she really was. People like him didn’t want their business splashed across the nightly news. She wasn’t looking for trouble, just a safe place to stay while she figured out her next move. If there was one.

When he turned she caught the word
President
over his right front pocket and
Divine
over his left. So he was the man in charge. She supposed that was a good thing. She’d only have him to convince to hide her while she got her bearings and worked out what to do next. She couldn’t call Henry. No doubt Rico would be looking at Henry’s incoming calls. She was on her own with Ryder and this whatever it was she’d stumbled into. Ryder was a hard man, but he seemed to have some kind of code or conscious unlike Rico. She’d take her chances with Ryder and wherever that led her. Not that there was much choice.

He dropped the plated sandwich and a bottle of water in front of her, sliding into the opposite seat. She went for the water first, downing it in one shot without stopping. He reached back and grabbed another bottle from the fridge and handed it to her. His arms were roped with muscles and tanned from riding she imagined. They were strong and uncompromising just like the rest of him. She imagined what it would be like to have him naked and straining above her, that dark penetrating gaze staring down at her.

Shivering, she quickly scuttled those thoughts. She had no business letting her mind wander there. She’d always been a risk taker, hedging her bets was as natural as breathing. And she knew that Ryder would be a winning wager at least in the sack. Outside of bed all bets were off. He was a complete unknown, but if she had to take a risk—and let’s face it that’s exactly what she was doing here—she’d put her money on him. There was something there in the dark depths of his eyes that she trusted against everything that screamed at her not to. But could he trust her? No. Definitely not. He didn’t seem like the type who wanted the kind of attention she would bring.

She attacked the sandwich, keeping her head low. If he recognized her…

He watched her, waiting until most of the sandwich was gone before he started in with the questions again. “You don’t know how you got here? You woke up and just started walking?”

“Yes.” That was a lie. She knew exactly where she was—well, maybe not
exactly
, but she knew she’d ended up somewhere in Devil’s Valley—and she knew exactly how she’d gotten here.

“What’s the last thing you do remember?”

She peered up at him through her curtain of hair. “I’m not sure.” The less information she gave him the better.

“You’re making it sound like some goddamned alien abduction.”

She didn’t answer. He was too close to the truth.

“Where do you live?”

“Wisconsin.” Another lie. She’d lied and bluffed her way into and out of worse situations. Maybe. There was no way of knowing who the man across from her was or what he would do to her when he found out who she really was. He could rape her. He could kill her. He could turn her over to the authorities. None of those options were good.

“You’re a long way from home. How did you get here?”

“Where exactly
is
here?”

“Divine, Arizona.”

Rubbing her hand across her mouth, she hunched further over her plate. So that’s what his patch meant. James had mentioned Divine with a hint of trepidation? Fear? Respect? She hadn’t been sure of his tone when he’d talked about the town, but for some reason he and Rico’s boys stayed clear of it, going out of their way to avoid it.

“What’s your full name?” he asked.

“Mercy Thomas.”

His gaze dropped to her chest. “What happened to your clothes?”

Looking down, she pulled at the stolen T-shirt to hide how her nipples had hardened just from his stare. She was an idiot. An idiot in danger, but her body reacted like she was on a damned date. She needed some perspective…fast. Just because he made her a sandwich didn’t mean he was domesticated. Far from it. He was about as tame as a bear.

She folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t know.”

“You got anything on under that?”

“No.”

He sat back in his chair. “Shit.”

She didn’t know what to say to that so she didn’t say anything. Waking up alone, naked in that trailer had been a nightmare. Who knew what they’d done to her after knocking her out. There were no obvious signs of assault, but that didn’t mean anything. She’d investigated rape cases where there was minimal vaginal trauma, no more than normal intercourse. Those cases never went to trial. No way to prove the assault. It was a case of
he said she said
and what she said never seemed to matter.

He swallowed, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “Were you raped?” Maybe he was remembering holding her down and rubbing his dick against her. Yeah. He was definitely remembering that and feeling some guilt about it. That was a good sign.

“I don’t think so.”

He nodded without offering an apology. “You wanna talk to the cops?”

“No.”
Absolutely not
.

He didn’t seem relieved by her answer, just curious. “That was a very definitive no.”

She didn’t reply. The less she said the better.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” he asked, thankfully changing the subject.

“I’m not sure. Everything’s so hazy and I’m so tired.”

She was lying, Ryder was sure of it. She knew exactly what had happened to her and how and why she was here, but he’d let it go for now. She wasn’t faking the hunger and thirst or the exhaustion. He’d been on too many missions too far from civilization not to recognize the signs. When Jet got back he’d have her put Slip on finding out whom Mercy Thomas from Wisconsin was. If any of that information was even real. So much of what came out of her mouth was bullshit and the rest was just vague enough to sound real. In the meantime he’d get her cleaned up and let her rest.

“You want a shower, some fresh clothes?”

“Yeah. You have some?”

“I can scrounge some up. Follow me.”

He got up from the table and led her to the bathroom where he started the shower and found her a clean towel. After going through Jet’s drawers he came up with some sweatpants and a T-shirt that might fit. Jet was skinnier than Mercy, bigger chested too. The clothes would be tight and probably too long but they were clean and he was pretty sure Jet wouldn’t miss them. When he opened the bathroom door he found Mercy looking at herself in the mirror. He finally got to see what she looked like.

Son of a bitch.

If he thought his luck was shit before it was completely fucked now. Mercy Thomas wasn’t her on camera name. Jessica Thomas was. And Jessica Thomas wasn’t just any TV reporter. She was the reporter who’d ruined his career and got his best friend killed.

Love stories you’ll never forget

By authors you’ll always remember

eOriginal Romance from Random House

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