Chapter 8
1305 Words
Rhea
The drive back had been painfully quiet. Awkward. The kind where you suddenly become too aware of the person sitting next to you.
And I hated that. And hated my heart more for still pounding. I kept my eyes fixed outside the window the entire time, refusing to look at Ryan even once.
Because if I did, I knew I would remember it.
His hand on my waist and the way his eyes raked my body.
Why would he do that? Why would he touch me without my permission?
The car slowed and stopped. We were back at the MC base.
Finally. Ryan killed the engine.
I immediately unbuckled my seatbelt and without looking at him, I said, "Next time, don't touch me without my permission."
My hand was already on the door handle when his hand shot out when he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back.
"Are you being serious right now?" his voice dropped with annoyance.
I tried to yank my hand back, but he didn't let go.
"I was trying to help you," he added. "You were about to fall. The least you could do is say thank you."
I scoffed. "I didn't ask you to help me. I didn't ask you to buy me clothes either," I shot back. "But you still did it."
A flicker of irritation crossed his face.
I swallowed, forcing myself to breathe in and out.
"Well... thank you for the clothes,"
I may not have manners for nonsense—but I wasn't completely uncivilized.
"That didn't sound like it came from your heart."
I rolled my eyes so hard. "Whatever."
I pushed the door open and stepped out. I opened the back seat and grabbed the bags from the seat.
Ryan got out as well. I slammed the car door shut then walked off.
"Seriously," I muttered under my breath, "who does he think he is..."
A slam echoed behind me as Ryan shut his door too. Suit him.
When I got to the corridor leading to the rooms, Anne or what was her name was walking humming to herself, swinging a rag lazily over her shoulder
"Ma'am," She rushed toward me immediately.
"Let me help you with those."
The walk to my room was just a few steps but I allowed her to take a few anyway. "First of all," I said, shifting the rest of the bags, "I told you not to call m Ma'am. It's Rhea. Just Rhea."
She nodded quickly. "Yes Ma—Rhea."
I gave her a short smile and headed to my room. Once inside, I dropped the bags on the bed with a soft thud.
"Do you want me to arrange them in your closet?" Anne asked gesturing to the furnished closet which I hadn't bothered to open.
"It's fine, thank you, I'll sort them out later."
Honestly, all I needed was a shower. A long one. To wash off the irritation.
And maybe figure out how to survive working with a bunch of men who clearly didn't want me there but smiled anyway because of Ryan.
I was about to turn when I stopped. "Actually... I think you can help me with something instead."
A small smile formed on her face.
"Yes?"
A few minutes later, I dusted off a surface that didn't even look dusty. "This looks so much better, don't you think?" I said, stepping back to look at the space.
Anne nodded equally feeling proud. "Yes Rhea. You have a good eye for things. I can see why Mr. Ryan admires you."
I nearly choked on my saliva. "What did you just say?"
She blinked. "I said Mr. Ryan admires—"
"Ryan?" I interrupted, too fast. "Oh please."
I waved a hand dismissively. "You people really need to stop forming stories in your heads."
Anne looked confused.
"He's not even my type," I added with a light chuckle. I don't like men who thinks anyone can bend to them just because they are at the top. And Ryan sees himself like that.
She stared at me like I had spoken a foreign language. I let out a frustrated laugh.
Is this girl dumb? Or just pretending not to understand basic sense?
"How long have you been working here?" I asked her.
"About... eight months," she answered slowly.
"Eight months," I repeated. "So you've seen him behave like this before?"
Her brows lifted. "Like... Mr. Ryan?"
"Yes. Buying people clothes they didn't ask for. Acting like he can just decide things for people."
Anne hesitated. "He doesn't usually do that. Mr. Ryan is very private. Strict. He doesn't really interact with people unless it's necessary."
I folded my arms. "Right."
Because that explained everything. Totally.
Anne fidgeted a little, then added, "When he does things, it's usually for a reason. And he takes this club and the boys very serious."
"A reason," I echoed. "Sure." That was why his reason for wanting me to follow him here right from the start was because he wanted me to find my father for him.
"Anyway, don't read too much into it."
"Yes, Rhea." She formed her lips into a thin line.
Silence settled for a moment before she spoke up. "Can I ask you something too?"
I didn't look at her. "That depends."
"Are you... staying here permanently? Or just for the coaching?"
I shrugged. "Coaching. That's it."
And getting paid. No attachments.
I made my way towards the bathroom. "And I'm not here because of him," I added.
Anne didn't respond. But I could feel her gaze on my back. Like she didn't quite believe what I said.
Well....suit her.
**
The bathroom door clicked shut behind me as I stepped out, a towel wrapped around my body and another one twisted over my head.
Thankfully, there had been towels in there.
I squeezed the towel over my hair, as I walked to the vanity mirror. I paused when I caught sight of a tray on the nightstand.
Did Anne leave that? I set the towel aside and walked over, lifting the lid.
The smell hit me instantly.
Warm grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, and mashed potatoes with garlic bread greeted me.
My stomach betrayed me immediately with a loud growl. I didn't waste time in digging in.
Because pride didn't fill stomachs.
I cleared almost everything from the plate and I felt more human.
When it was time to dress up, I dragged one of the bags and pulled one open taking out a black leather outfit and inspecting it.
"Okay," I muttered to myself. "Not bad, not bad."
I still didn't like the fact that he bought them.
But I couldn't lie either. He had good taste. Annoying.
I changed into a pair. A fitted black biker-style top with matching dark pants and a cropped leather jacket.
I turned toward the mirror. I looked... different. A slow smirk formed on my lips.
"Oh, I look like a biker girl." I grabbed my phone, slipped it into my pocket, and gave myself one last look.
Good enough. Then I left the room.
When I stepped into the corridor, I barely made it two steps before someone walked straight into my path.
Luke.
He blinked. "...wow,"
I raised a brow.
"What?"
He gave a low whistle, shaking his head. "You clean up well."
I rolled my eyes immediately.
"Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?"
"It's a compliment," he said quickly, hands raised with a laugh. "Definitely a compliment."
"You look very much like one of us,"
I stopped walking and looked at him dead in the eye.
"I can still change that."
Luke laughed. "Too bad you're in it."
I ignored him and kept walking. Ryan was probably going to have a lot to say when he sees me like this.
- Writer
