Page 9 of Broken Rebel

“I can do that.”

“No.”

Jesus.

There was a piece of paper in his hand and he shoved it in his pocket.

“What was that?” If I was going to learn this business, I wanted to know everything I could.

He didn’t look at me and started the truck. “Nothing.”

I frowned. “It wasn’t nothing. I clearly saw something.”

He eased out onto the road. “How about, it’s none of your business?”

I released a long-suffering sigh. “You may not want me to do this kind of work, but you need to get it through your thick skull that what I choose to do with my life is not something you get a say in.”

His jaw jumped again. “Is that right?”

“Yes. That’s right.” I turned more fully toward him. “Now tell me what you put in your damn pocket.”

“A number.”

“A number?” I scowled. “Is it physically possible for you to not be a stubborn jackass for five minutes?”

He shrugged.

I pointed at his pocket. “I’m going to need you to be a little more specific?”

His bicep bunched and he glanced at me then back at the road. “Officer Kathleen Rutherford gave me her number. She wants to get a drink some time. Going by the way she was looking at me, I’d say she wants a fuck of a lot more than a drink.” His gaze slid back to me. “That specific enough for you?”

Heat crawled up my neck instantly and my heart felt like it had shriveled like a raisin in my chest. I cleared my throat, to loosen my suddenly tight vocal cords. “Kind of an over-share if you want the truth.”

“You said be specific.”

He was purposely being an asshole, and I hated myself because I still wanted him. How fucked in the head did that make me? I didn’t want to think about that too hard. “Well, I guess I’ll know better for next time.”

He cursed under his breath. “Ruby . . .”

“Oh, look at that, we’re here.” He’d pulled up outside my apartment building.

“I’m telling you now, there won’t be a goddamn next time.”

I ignored him. “As always . . . it’s been real.” I opened the door and jumped out.

“Hang the fuck on. I’m not finished with you. We need to talk about what happened back there.”

I froze and turned to face him. Please, God, no. Talking about the chicks he bangs, or was about to bang in the near future, was not something I wanted to have a powwow about right then. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Like fuck there isn’t. What you did tonight, coming after me like that . . .”

Right.

Of course he didn’t want to talk about his sex life. He wanted to talk about me being an idiot. No thank you. “Maybe another time.” I slammed the door shut and jogged up the steps to my place.

Neco called after me, but I refused to turn back and ran inside, hoping like hell he didn’t follow me up, and that my roommate Scott wasn’t home. I was shaken after tonight. Shaken and off balance. I just needed a minute to myself, to clear my head.

To clear Neco out of my head.