She pushed herself to standing and whirled around to face him. Jagger leaned against the tool bench, thick arms folded over his cut. Her gaze traveled down his muscular body, to the hand-tooled leather belt and the Harley-Davidson buckle shining in the last rays of the afternoon sun, which streamed through the window. And then her focus slid below his belt to the powerful thighs and the prominent bulge at his groin. Her cheeks heated and she looked away.
Mind out of the gutter.
“For what? For doing to me what Viper did? For treating me like a piece of property? You can’t own me.” Her voice rose in pitch and her body shook with the effort to contain her emotion. “This is the twenty-first century. It’s against the law.”
“Since when do one-percenters obey the law?” Although his voice was calm and even, there was no mistaking his tone. This wasn’t a discussion. It was a fait accompli.
Arianne shuddered. In the short time she’d known Jagger, she had come to realize he was far more dangerous than any of the Jacks, maybe even more dangerous than Viper. So cool. So calm. So utterly in control of everything and everyone around him. Nothing surprised him. He seemed to plan every move at least three steps ahead, enforcing his will before ever making a demand.
“What are you saying?” She squeezed her wrench so hard, her knuckles whitened. “I’ve paid for my life with my freedom? And now that you own me, you expect me to do your bidding?”
He held up his hands palms forward. “You’re upset. I understand that. But stop right there before you say something we’ll both regret.”
But she couldn’t stop. A lifetime of anger, pain, and humiliation bubbled over in her utter despair at letting her guard down only to see there was nothing on the other side except more of the same. She had trusted Jagger despite herself, only to have the freedom that had almost been within her grasp snatched away.
In frustration, she threw the small wrench at him and reached down to pick up another as he dodged her throw. “It’s not going to happen. I’m not property. Not for Viper. Not for Leo. Not for you. Not for anyone.” Her voice rose, to a shout. “How could you do this to me? All I ever wanted was to be free.”
“Stop.” Louder now, his voice cut through her rant but not through her rage.
“I’m leaving. If not on my bike, then on someone else’s, and if I don’t have a bike, I’ll damn well walk.” She threw another wrench and Jagger stalked toward her, ducking to the right to avoid the flying tool.
Her third wrench went wide, but by the time she picked up a fourth, he was bearing down on her too fast, an unstoppable force. She took one step back and then another, but he kept coming and coming until her back hit the wall and his hand clasped firmly around her wrist. Arianne turned her head to the side, squeezed her eyes, and steeled herself for his fist.
“Drop it.” His forceful tone left no room for argument.
She dropped the wrench. But when he released her wrist, and the strike didn’t come, she slapped at his chest in a frenzy of blows. “Get away from me. You treated me no better than Viper ever did.” She cut herself off and glared. “This is why I hate bikers. I hate being part of this world where women are nothing but pawns in a game, property to be traded and used and abused and cast aside. The only way I ever got any respect was to be as good as or better at what they did. So I learned to shoot better and ride better and play pool better. And yet in the end, I’m still nothing. I’m a ‘girl.’ I’m the prize you snatched from Viper.”
Her chest heaved as she rasped her breaths, her breasts brushing against his cut. But when she looked up, she saw neither anger nor scorn in the depths of his eyes. Instead she saw concern, sympathy … and goddamn unyielding determination.
He hugged her face with his warm hands, even as he trapped her with his body. “The things that happened to you—and one day I want to hear everything—don’t happen in my club. I won’t deny that misogyny exists, or that women take on roles that might be looked down on generally by civilians, but in return for what they do for the club, they are given respect and protection and they know they won’t be harmed.”
“Why would you care what happened to me? That’s all in the past.”
Jagger bent down and touched his forehead to hers. “Because you’re mine. And ‘mine’ means you have my protection. ‘Mine’ means I’ll look after you. It means nothing happens you don’t want to happen and no one touches you without your consent. It means your life is in my hands and I will do everything in my power to ensure you are safe and secure and your needs are met. It means something happened to you that twisted your perception so bad, you look at us and you see only them. I’ll make that right. I’ll give you justice. I’ll give you back whatever was taken from you.”
“Respect?”
His face softened and his lips quirked at the corners. “I remember someone telling me respect has to be earned.”