They rode for another minute or so before he let up on the gas and the truck slowed to a stop. "It matters because you matter." He uncovered her face and stared down at her. "As soon as I get you settled, I'm going after that bastard. Do you really believe I'd do that if you meant nothing to me?"
She gazed up at the handsome man. What could she possibly say that would make him understand? He meant well, she knew he did, but had the attempted rape happened two days earlier, he wouldn't have lifted a finger to help her. The truth hurt. "Why'd you stop coming over when Dad was convicted?"
He released his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel to rub his face. "Ellie. She blackmailed the club. Told us if we didn't stay far away from both of you, she'd tell the cops everything she knew. We had two choices, kill her or do what she'd asked. It was out of respect for Smash that we chose the second option, but don't you believe for a second that it was easy. I even talked to Smash shortly after he went to prison about her demands. He told me that you needed your mother, and I should do what she asked."
Stunned at the news, Santana broke eye contact and turned her attention to the set of keys dangling from the ignition. She wondered what kind of information her mom had used to blackmail the club. Growing up with Smash as her father, she'd had no illusions of what kind of men her dad hung around with. "So you walked away."
He blew out a ragged breath. "The first year or so, it was hell, not knowing if Ellie was taking care of you. It got so bad, that I began to volunteer for every road trip the club needed to make." He brushed Santana's cheek. "It wasn't easy. I promise you that. You were just a skinny teenager back then, and I saw you as a kid sister or something, but things have changed." He removed his hand. "Fuck. I shouldn't have said that, sorry."
"It's okay," she mumbled. It wasn't, of course, but she didn't dare tell him that she'd continued to fantasize about him long after he'd stopped coming around. "It's been years. I can't expect you to feel the same way about me."
"That's not what I meant," he growled, clearly upset. "You're a woman, and that's how I see you."
Confused, she pushed herself up to a seated position. "I don't understand."
"No, you don't." His cell phone rang, cutting off further conversation. He glanced at the display. "It's Cecil."
She scooted over and leaned against the passenger door, making sure to keep the blanket wrapped tightly around her while still clutching the sheathed knife.
"Yeah," Stake answered. "Shit, what do you want me to do?" He nodded and glanced at her. "Okay. Yeah, no, I understand." He ended the call and shoved the phone back into the pocket of his black leather cut. "Birdie, Hog's wife, called and said the Gordon was just brought into the hospital. A Broken Ridge cop spotted him slumped over the wheel at the edge of town. According to Birdie, he's on his way into surgery."
Her hand flew to her mouth. She'd never be sorry for stabbing that fat pig, but the fear of going to prison was enough to steal her breath.
"Cecil thinks it would be best for me to take you to a hospital in San Antonio. Cops in the city won't be as likely to bow down to Gordon."
"No cops. He said he'd kill me if I went to the cops," she argued.
"I know he did, bug, but you need to trust that we can keep you safe." He put the truck in gear and continued down the road.
Santana had little choice but to trust Stake. She had no one else, and she couldn't imagine going up against the county deputies as well as Broken Ridge cops without having some kind of protection.
"Once we tell the hospital why we're there, they'll call the police, and hopefully, they'll bring someone in for you to talk to."
She studied his profile in the faint green glow of the dashboard. She'd been alone for years with no one who gave a damn about her. "I don't need anyone to talk to."
"Of course you do." He reached over without taking his eyes off the road, and placed his hand on her arm.
"People don't … ," she stopped herself before she could say more. How could she explain that she'd become so used to being invisible to those around her that any kind attention made her feel anxious? Simply put, people didn't care about people like her. It had been a hard truth to accept, but she had done so years earlier, and the last thing she needed was Stake or the police trying to make her feel otherwise. It wouldn't last anyway, and she'd be back to living her life alone. Better to put an end to his protective instincts.
"Gordon didn't rape me," she said after a moment.
"What're you talking about?"
"He couldn't … " She groaned. It was torture to realize her body wasn't even good enough for a man like the sheriff. "He couldn't get hard." She shook her head.
"Thank fuck," Stake growled.
"So there's no need to take me to the hospital. They won't find anything," she explained.
"You're kidding, right? You're covered in cuts and bruises. It doesn't matter whether or not he stuck his dick in you." He turned off the gravel road onto the county highway that would take them to San Antonio. "He attacked you in your home and you fought back. No judge in the country would fault you for what you did, and that's why we need documented proof of your injuries." He reached across the seat and brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. "Can you tell me exactly what happened? I'm sorry, but Cecil will want to know in case Gordon tries anything."
It was obvious he was going to keep up the protector gig, so she decided to give him what he asked for. "I was getting ready to burn some stuff in the barrel out back when Gordon came out of nowhere. He hit me and knocked me to the ground. That's when he tore my shirt off," she said. The unemotional quality of her own voice as she ticked off the events like a shopping list should have worried her, but the opposite was true. She'd get through this and go on like she always did.
They rode for another minute or so before he prompted her again. "How'd you get inside?"
"I stabbed him with a stick, and I ran," she whispered, hoping the softer tone would hide her indifference. She should be angry or sad or … something, but she felt removed from the night's events, like they'd happened to someone else.
"And Gordon followed you into the house?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Did he break the door?"
"No. He pushed me through it. Then he handcuffed me to the leg of the couch." She remembered the way he'd used her own knife to cut her. "I think he wanted me to be afraid. To scream." She squeezed her eyes shut. "But he couldn't … " The image of Gordon's flaccid cock came to mind. His anger at his own inability to grow hard seemed to fuel his rage toward her.
"Get hard," Stake added.
"Yeah," she whispered. "He said it was because I disgusted him. He uncuffed me and told me to get on my hands and knees because he couldn't look at my face any longer." She closed her eyes, experiencing the humiliation all over again. "He'd used the knife earlier, and then forgot about it. I moved to my hands and knees like he'd ordered, but instead of waiting for him to hit me again, I grabbed the knife."
Stake made a sound deep in his chest that she didn't understand. Was he angry? Had she been wrong to fight back? "I cut him," she confessed.
"How bad?" he growled again.
Santana flinched and plastered herself against the passenger door. "I don't know." Oh God, what had she done? "They'll arrest me, won't they?"
"Not if I can help it. That's why I'm taking you to San Antonio." He reached over and set his hand on her shoulder. "You did the right thing."
"Did I?" She wasn't sure. She remembered his threats. "He said he was going to kill me whether I let him fuck me or not. I begged him to do it before he touched me. I think that was the wrong thing to say."
"Nothing you did was wrong."
She looked at him. His jaw was clenched and his grip on the steering wheel had grown so tight his knuckles were white. She wondered if he was sorry he'd been the one to find her. "Why'd you come back tonight?"
"Because I needed to apologize for the way I left. I hope you understand why I had to back away before, but Ellie's not around to keep me away now." He held out his hand. "Will you let me back in?"
She stared at the large hand, knowing he was the only person who stood between her and the rest of the world. Without her mom, she had no one. Taking a leap of faith, she put her hand in his. "I still don't understand while you're helping me, but thank you."