Billionaire Unloved(6)

By: J.S. Scott

He didn’t speak as I wrapped my arms around his neck and panted against his shoulder. His hands stroked over my hair and down my back, his touch comforting.

“It’s over, Ruby. I promise you, it’s over.” Jett’s voice was husky and deep as he made a vow with so much certainty that it made me feel even safer, more secure.

And feeling protected wasn’t something I’d ever experienced in my past.

I was calmer as I finally answered, “But now I’m indebted to you,” I pointed out in a tremulous voice. “You just shelled out a fortune.”

Jett had paid more money for me than I could even process in my mind. I felt rich when I had enough money to buy a hamburger from the dollar menu, so figures like he’d just given to gain my freedom were incomprehensible to me.

“Don’t worry about the money,” he rasped. “Let’s just get you somewhere safe.”

He wrapped his arm around my waist, but I still winced as I tried to put more weight on my foot. “I have to go slow,” I said as all the breath whooshed out of my lungs from the pain of trying to walk.

“What happened?” he asked brusquely as he stooped down to try to look at my injury.

“I think I stepped on something,” I answered.

A small beam of light illuminated my lower extremities and I heard Jett curse. “Fuck! You’re bleeding all over the sidewalk. I can feel the blood.”

He had his cell phone in his hand, and he used the light to look back at the large pieces of glass behind us. “You didn’t just step on something,” he said. “It looks like a damn massacre. You ran through shards of glass.”

“I can make it to the car,” I said shakily. I just wanted to get out of the general area of the club.

“Damn right you will,” Jett grumbled as he handed me the cell phone that provided light and hefted me into his arms before I could protest.

He limped heavily as he took on my weight, but his long strides had us both in his car within a short period of time.

I felt horrible because I knew Jett had to be hurting, but I hadn’t heard a single word of complaint come out of his mouth. And it would have caused him more grief if I’d struggled to get down.

I heaved a sigh as he got behind the wheel after wrapping my foot with his own T-shirt.

I didn’t see his scars until he was seated, the overhead lights illuminating his body and face.

Very little could have marred the masculine beauty of his face. He had one or two small scars at his temple that looked like they’d faded over time, but Jett was so in-your-face gorgeous that a few little marks didn’t matter. As my eyes took in his powerful chest and torso, I could see he’d been in a horrible accident at one time.

Somehow, it was comforting that we were both survivors. Not that I wished Jett pain of any kind, but I felt a kinship toward the man who was my rescuer.

Pain is personal. It really belongs to the one feeling it.

I’d read that somewhere, and at the time, I’d really believed it to be true. The words had stuck in my brain.

But now I could actually empathize with my rescuer.

Jett’s scars were external.

Mine were all over my soul.

We’d obviously both experienced our share of pain.

My gaze moved up again, and I met his gorgeous green-eyed stare as he turned his head to look at me. “I’m sorry you have to look at my scarred-up body. But you needed my shirt,” he said gruffly.

I shrugged. Jett was breathtaking, even with all his scars. “You look fine without it. But I’m sorry I ruined it.”

He looked taken aback, and then he scowled as he shut off the light and started the car.

He put the vehicle into motion, and I wondered, after the fact, if Jett thought he needed to hide his body just because he had a few imperfections.

I wanted to ask him, but I stayed mute. He’d been nice to me, but he was an intimidating guy because of his size and generally unhappy expression. He didn’t know me well enough to trust me, and he didn’t appear to be very trusting. Like me, he looked the type of man who didn’t trust anybody but himself.

I’d tried to trust the couple who had kidnapped me because I was desperate for food. And look how that had turned out.

I was grateful that Jett had rescued me, and I’d do everything in my power to pay him back one day, but I just wasn’t willing to put my faith in anybody.

It had always been safer that way.


A few hours later, I listened as the emergency room doctor put a brace on Jett’s knee, trying to hear what the verdict would be on his injured leg. Unfortunately, the physician had pulled the curtain between our ER beds, so I couldn’t really see what was happening.

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