3/6

Sitting in a chair, outside of almost see-through curtains, he heard the words 'Rape Kit' and his heart sunk to the bottom of his stomach. He knew he shouldn't have been so harsh with her. He should have at least asked if she was okay.

The last thing he wanted to do was spend his night in the E.R. with sick people, but he'd always been a sucker for beautiful women...and she was as beautiful as they came. Fuck. He knew this was going to end badly.

Pulling out a cigarette from his jacket, he was about to light it when he caught the no-smoking sign out of the corner of his eye. He plucked it from his mouth and stuffed it back into the pack.

Behind the curtain, the girl insisted to the doctor that she was fine. Ryan watched the shadows on the wall. When the nurse tried to get her to lay down to take a swab, she pulled the torn material of her blouse together, jumping off the examining table.

"I'm really okay," she stated with conviction.

And whether it was true or not, the nurse couldn't do a bloody thing about it. Ryan shook his head. She was a stubborn little thing. Tougher than he'd first pegged her to be. He admired that.

More timid when she pulled back the curtains, she made her way to him. He stood and handed her back her purse. The two suitcases-one small and another, slightly bigger--she'd come with were gone by the time they went back into the bar to retrieve them.

The only thing left to do now was to get her back to where she belonged, back to whatever money pit she'd clawed her way out of. And he had to do it fast...before she belonged here...before he wanted her to stay. He really was a sucker for damsels in distress.

"Where do you live?" he asked.

She looked sceptical. Not that he blamed her... How was she supposed to know who to trust after what she'd just been through?

"So I can drive you home," he explained.

She seemed to mull it over with slight panic in her eyes.

His blue-gray eyes looked dangerous but she wasn't afraid. It was the opposite. She felt strangely comforted, drawn to him. If he hadn't been there... She shuddered to think of what would have happened. She would have been just another statistic. Another victim. And he'd saved her. Somehow she knew she could trust him. Inexplicably. But she did not want to go home. Not now. Not ever.

This stranger was staring at her. Waiting. Waiting for her to tell her where she lived so he could take her back. Back to hell. Well, she had news for him because she wasn't going back. She'd kick him in the groin and run somewhere else if she had to.

Lying was like second nature to her. She lied about everything to get her way. And she wasn't about to stop now.

"New Jersey," she said, daring him to not believe her.

He laughed. Laughed right in her face. She resented it. Who was to say she wasn't from New Jersey?

Hand affixed to her hip, she glared at him. "What?"

He looked her up and down and if she'd never understood the word sensual before, she understood now. Because he looked at her like she was something he wanted. Not just as a sex object--she'd gotten that a lot--this was something different...something she couldn't quite define. Her skin tingled.

"If you're from Jersey than I'm the pope."

Summer refused to back down; she played along instead. "Great, because I have a lot of things to confess."

"I'm sure you do, " he said, dryly. He was unfazed. And she knew at that moment that he saw right through her and her games. "You should have said New York; I might have believed that. Try again."

Okay, even she wouldn't have believed it. New Jersey was a bad choice. "Iowa?"

"Nope."

"Canada?"

He sighed. "Things'll go a lot quicker if you just tell me the truth."

It was her turn to sigh. It had been a long time since anyone cared about the truth. "Newport," she mumbled.

His eyes widened and his pupils dilated. "Newport? What the hell are you doing in Chino?"

"I ran away." She bit her lip, shocked by the taste of blood in her mouth.

"You ran away?" He laughed, reigning it in when she scowled at him. "What could possibly be that bad that would make you run away?" When she didn't answer right away, he persisted. "Huh, Princess?"

Wrapping her arms around her body, she shifted her weight and shrugged. "I wanted to see if anyone would notice I was gone."

"Did they?" His eyes were intensely blue as he stared at her. It made her shiver. There was a story behind those eyes, something dark and painful.

She looked him over. For the first time noticing how young he looked; he couldn't have been much older than she was. She wouldn't call him handsome, not in the traditional sense, not with his ripped t-shirt and dirty jeans -nothing soap and new clothes wouldn't fix. Here she was being shallow again. Hadn't she wanted to escape all of that? Still, there was something alluring, something tantalizing that went beyond his state of attire. She'd never been one to look for inner beauty, but there was something beautiful about him and his broken blue eyes. Something she wanted to mend. For the first time, in maybe her whole life, she wasn't afraid to tell the truth.

"No."

This time there was no laughter but she stiffened like she expected there to be. They stared at each other until she had to blink and then he looked away. He pitied her now.

"Got anywhere to go? A place to stay?"

She hadn't thought this through because, no, she didn't have anywhere to go. She'd spent the last of her money on a chocolate bar at the bus depot while she waited to take off. The rest of her cash had gone toward a fake I.D.-it looked authentic so she hadn't minded too much. All she had on her was the change from the twenty the man at the bar had given her. And nothing else. No food. No job. No hope.

"You got friends here? Family, maybe?" he persisted.

Resigning, she shook her head no.

Ryan sighed. God, he hoped she wasn't going to cry again. He couldn't take much more of that.

He knew he was in far too deep to turn her away now. Why did he always get himself into these messes?

"Come on," he said and began to walk down the hallway, not looking back to see if she was following or not. There was no way the bike was going to make it to Newport tonight, there was barely enough gas for the ride home as it was. And now he was going to have to put her up for the night because he had to go and be a good Samaritan. He just hoped he could keep it that way. There were no hero points for taking advantage of a fragile little thing like her.

"Where are we going?" He heard her ask as she caught up to him, her heels clacking on the tiled floor, grating against his ears.

"You can crash at my place for the night and then tomorrow we'll get your ass back to Newport where it belongs, Princess," he said over his shoulder, not catching the glare she sent him.

He led them to the parking lot and hugged a sleek motorcycle between his thighs while he waited for her to mount the back.

She hesitated. "How do I know you're not some psycho serial killer?"

Ryan snickered. "You don't."

Apparently that was good enough explanation for her because her little manicured hand grabbed his shoulder and used it for leverage.

"Hold on tight, Princess," he taunted, knowing by the way she tightened her grip that it annoyed her.

"Don't call me that!" she said, sounding wounded.

He looked back at her, smirking. "Why? That's what you are. A little rich girl slumming to get her kicks. But the problem with snotty little teases is that sometimes people take them seriously, just like that guy tonight. You can't tell me you don't know what you look like in that skirt."

He swore she stopped breathing and he didn't have to look a her to know her face was flushed.

"Maybe I am just a tease... Or maybe the wrong guy took me seriously," she countered, her voice getting husky.

He expected her to be angry. To get off the bike and get away from him. To slap him. To do something like that. But he hadn't expected her to transform into a seductress.

Ryan shook his head. The girl didn't know when to quit.

When she settled, she leaned forward and whispered -in a voice he knew she hadn't meant to still be sexy but that didn't diminish its power, "I'm Summer."

The front of his jeans felt tight. "Ryan," he said, a little bit gruff, handing her the helmet.

"Thanks for saving me, Ryan." She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed.

Fuck. He was in trouble. Big time.