Rebel (Renegades #2)(59)
Author: Skye Jordan

“I’m fine, I just—”

“You’re not driving this angry.” She repeated his own earlier words deliberately. “Give me the keys.”

Wes shoved them into her open hand feeling defeated and strode to the passenger’s door. “You should be just as angry.”

When the car chirped, he yanked open the door and slid into the seat, every muscle taut. He flattened his injured hand over his knee and stared down at the blood. He had a couple of good cuts over his knuckles. One he was pretty sure needed stitches. God, what a f**king dumb shit. His emotions had been strung out since he’d first kissed Rubi. He’d ignored them. Convinced himself he could deal. That he could handle her, handle himself, handle something between them. Now look at him.

Rubi shut her door but didn’t start the engine. “Listen for a minute.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “When I saw how amazing the rig—”

“I don’t give a f**k about the rig—”

“Shut. Up.” She turned blazing green eyes on him. “Please, Wes. I need to tell you this.”

He pushed pent-up air out of his mouth, clenched his teeth, and stared through the windshield.

“I wanted to get a sense of how marketable it would be. I knew the quality was there, but I don’t know the rehabilitation market. All Dolph’s businesses started with one—selling inventions. And that continues to be the basis of his empire. All his other companies—consulting, manufacturing, sales, shipping—have stemmed from that one, which continues to feed the rest. Knowing the value of an invention is Dolph’s specialty.”

“What the f**k does this have to do with—”

“I’m not finished,” she said, her voice steely. “And if you want to walk home, interrupt me one more time.”

He pulled the door handle.

She grabbed his arm. “Goddammit, Wes. I’m trying to tell you something important.”

The catch in her voice stopped him.

“I have several contacts of my own,” she continued, “who could take your rig and run with it. But before I approached you with the idea, I wanted to know just how viable this would be on the market. It’s a long road from idea to production. Most of which you’ve already covered on your own. But things can go bad along the way. I’ve seen many dreams crushed, and with it their creators’ hearts. I didn’t want to get your hopes up and then end up disappointing you.”

He turned to look at her. “You’re not hearing me. I’ve never thought of selling it. I don’t give a f**k about doing anything with it but helping Wyatt.”

“And you’re not hearing me. I’m not talking thousands, Wes. I’m talking millions. Millions and millions. I’m talking about you being able to buy houses like Jax’s any time you wanted. I’m talking about never worrying about money for the rest of your life.”

Wes’s gut went cold. He dropped his head back, and his gaze slid up the glass monolith her father owned. “You’d let me do business with that f**ker? Just for the money?”

“God, you’re dense.” Rubi sounded as twisted as Wes felt. “I’m telling you I was using him as a gauge before I suggested you go with someone else. I’d never suggest you do business with him.”

“And what if I said the money doesn’t interest me? That I’d rather have you than any amount of money?”

“I’d say one doesn’t have anything to do with the other.” She paused, then turned the engine over, but when she spoke, her voice was softer, filled with complex emotions Wes couldn’t pull apart. “I’d say you’re too idealistic and too shortsighted for an almost-thirty-year-old living in Los Angeles, working in the movie industry. I’d tell you to open your eyes and look down the road. I’d remind you that, in case you hadn’t noticed, you’re in a dangerous line of work, with no backup. I’d point out how quickly that million will go if you’re hurt and out of work for any length of time. So I’d say you might want to pull your shortsighted, romantic head out of your ass, stop paying so much attention to today, and start focusing on tomorrow.

“And I’d pass on some important advice I got when I was at the top of my modeling career.” She cast a flat glance toward him. “You won’t always be young, healthy, and beautiful. Use your best years wisely.”

“Who gave you that advice?” he asked dully.

“Lexi.”

The thirty-five-floor, smoky-mirror-lined building in the heart of downtown Los Angeles, a building worth hundreds of millions of dollars, slipped out of his view. The dark sky filled his vision, but for some bizarre reason, his parents’ ranch-style home on a farm in Podunk Missouri filled his mind’s eye. And in a sudden flash of dread, Wes saw himself and Rubi as mismatched as the buildings.

His body released its tension, and he sank into the cradle of the luxury sedan’s molded leather seats. A car Jax had bought for Lexi. Yeah, he had some money packed away in low-risk investments, but Rubi was right—a million dollars wasn’t all that much money nowadays. Wes sure as hell couldn’t begin to fathom the ability to purchase a home like Jax’s or Rubi’s fathers’. His mind backpedaled and replayed Rubi’s monologue on his finances. His future. And he recognized a new gut-level discomfort. One stemming not only from the cultural variance existing between him and Rubi, but divergent classes as well. None of which mattered in the moment, he knew. But with the realization of his deepening feelings for her…might end up mattering in the long-term. Something that obviously mattered significantly to Rubi. He had the uncomfortable sensation of walls closing in on him. Of being trapped by someone else’s expectations. Of taking a direction he didn’t want because someone he loved wanted him to take that path.

Wes trudged back to the present, feeling strangely distant, a dull fire burning in the pit of his stomach, one that created an ache instead of a burn.

They drove back to Malibu, a fifty-minute trip, without speaking. Without music. Both lost in their own thoughts. Still, Wes couldn’t say it had been an uncomfortable ride. Just…quiet. Settling. And by the time Rubi pulled into Jax’s driveway, he ached from the stress. His heart felt bruised. His chest empty. And all he wanted to do was refuel by sliding into bed with Rubi. By falling asleep, his body tangled with hers.

She pulled into the garage, tapped the door closed, and turned off the engine. “We’ll have Lexi look at your hand. If you don’t need the ER, I’ll take Rodie home.”