This Is a Dark Ride by Melissa Harlow Page B

you want, you just let me know.” She picked at a chip of nail polish, debating on whether or not to tell him the truth. He seemed so angry right now; maybe if he knew the truth, he’d understand. “The thing is…I can’t yet. That guy, last night…he didn’t rob me. I didn’t have any money on me. It’s all hidden at the place I was staying. Anyway…he didn’t rob me. He…”
    “What’d he do?”
    The sliver of polish broke away. “He raped me—and before you say anything sarcastic, no, I don’t mean he just fucked me and didn’t pay. I mean he hurt me.” Angel swallowed, determined not to cry.
    “I need a couple of days maybe.” Angel looked up at him, feeling strangely shy. “I’m not trying to get out of doing it, just so you know.”
    Sam shook his head. “I don’t fucking believe this!”
    She looked away, not liking the anger in his voice.
    “Look at me!” Angel met his gaze. There was rage in his eyes.
    “Brody’s playing a game… Some kind of fucking head trip. The last thing I need is a charity fuck from a fucking whore. I’ve got enough problems.”
    Though he spoke the truth, the words still stung. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him!
    She got up and made sure she didn’t look in his direction as hot, angry tears formed in her eyes. “You can just keep that fucking coat.” She had been stupid to think he’d stopped to talk to her because he really wanted to. He was gorgeous, and she was…well, she wasn’t even pretty. And as he and Brody kept graciously pointing out, she was a whore. If Sam decided he wanted to screw a woman, he certainly didn’t need a whore. “I don’t want anything from you.” She clawed at the bottom of the shirt she was wearing. “In fact, here.” Angel jerked the shirt over her head and threw it in his direction as hard as she could. It landed next to him in a ball on the sofa. “There’s your fucking shirt back too. You might want to wash it before you—”
    He stood and grabbed her on either side of her arms. His strong grip against her bruises made her immediately go still. Her arms ached to the bone, and the pain reminded her of last night. She looked at him wide-eyed, and she did not move, hoping he’d let go.
    “Stop it, okay? I don’t want to fight with you,” Sam said. “I just… Damn. I can’t believe Brody… I mean I can’t.” He stopped talking, and his brows creased. His hands tightened on her upper arms, and the pain became intolerable.
    “Please. It hurts.” Tears sprang to her eyes, but she tried to regain her composure.
    Concern etched Sam’s face as he released his grip. His fingers gently traced the black-and-blue marks on her shoulder.
    “He hit you,” Sam said. “What else did he do? The one who raped you?” Any anger he’d had was gone. Angel saw only tenderness and compassion in his face.
    She shook her head violently. “I don’t… Please, I don’t want to talk about it.”
    “I’m sorry.” He rubbed her arm as though he could erase the pain. She wished he could, wished she could just forget about Bobby and the things he had done. If only it was that simple.
    Sam stared into her eyes, his head bowed toward her.
    Her heart quickened a little at how close his face was to hers. His gaze was on her lips now, like he was thinking about kissing her. That would be nice. That would be really nice.
    “Brody kissed you?” he said in a whisper. Sam’s face moved closer to hers. “Or did you kiss him?”
    “I…I don’t know. Both, I guess.”
    “Is that what you wanted?” She nodded, and stupidly honest words came spilling out of her mouth before she could stop them. “I’m sorry. I’ve never kissed anyone I liked. I thought it would be…I don’t know…kind of nice. I never kissed a single fucking person in my entire life because I really wanted to.” Her cheeks flushed, and she pulled back and looked down at her bare feet.
    She’s said so much, confessed things she never had before. It was too easy to