Billionaire Unloved Read online

  As a homeless adult, it had been a place to stay warm or to cool off, a location that had always found me a place to belong and fit in. Even if it was only for a little while.

  Unfortunately, there were no fairy tales for me to fall into right now.

  Sold!!!

  That one word barked by the auctioneer jolted me back from my musings and into the position that was now my reality: naked, terrified, and on a stage in front of people who wanted to do me harm.

  I’d just been sold like a horse at auction, and my reins were about to change hands.

  My eyes darted around the room in horror, trying to find my way out.

  I pushed my long brown hair back with a trembling hand. My price had gone over six figures, so even if I escaped, I knew I’d be hunted down like an escaped convict. Nobody was going to pay that much money and lose an expensive brood mare.

  But I knew I’d rather make a break for freedom and be on the run than to just accept whatever my fate was going to be.

  I watched as my purchaser went to the cashier to arrange payment while I was pulled down the steps and out of the bright lights that had nearly blinded me.

  We came to a stop beside the man who had bought me, and disappointment nearly crushed me as I realized my new owner was the very man who had given me momentary hope.

  It was the dark-haired guy from the front row who had briefly met my eyes with what I’d perceived as kindness.

  As usual, I’d been so damn wrong.

  I blinked as he looked up at me, his expression now filled with anger.

  “Cover her and release her!” he barked at the man still holding my chain.

  My restraint was removed, and I was handed a dark cover-up that I quickly donned. It was thin, like something a woman would wear to cover a bathing suit, but I gladly pulled the material down over my privates, relieved that I could cover my body.

  “Let’s go,” my new nemesis growled into my ear as he took my upper arm to guide me out of the club.

  His grip was insistent and firm, but not painfully so.

  I moved with him, anxious to get out of a club that was sleazy enough to auction off virgins, not caring whether the women were there willingly or unwillingly.

  I had a feeling that nearly every woman being sold was completely unwilling, or had been forced to be here by tragedy.

  I’d met two women in the holding area who had been sold off to somebody in a third world country. They’d been tourists in the US for a holiday, normal sightseers in a country that was the land of the free. I’m sure it had rightly never crossed their minds that they’d become victims of a kidnapping, and now it was entirely possible that they might never see their home countries again.

  The two travelers had people who loved them back home, and I desperately wanted to help them. But I couldn’t do it as a prisoner.

  I stumbled slightly to keep up with the man who now owned me. He wasn’t moving that fast, but my feet were bare. I occasionally stepped on what I assumed were peanut shells, but I was pretty sure I didn’t really want to know if it was anything else.

  That’s when I noticed that my latest captor had a weakness, a slight limp to his step that I could probably use to my advantage. It wasn’t much, but considering his massive size and strength, I’d take whatever help I could get.

  My heart nearly exploded with relief as I realized that I could probably outrun him if I could just get outside.

  He pushed through the heavy wooden doors with a powerful arm, and I welcomed the humid air that suddenly enfolded me.

  I took a deep breath, and ended up gasping, trying to suck up the outside air after being in a putrid environment for so long.

  My escort released my arm as he motioned toward the parking lot to indicate that he was parked beside the building.

  I was scared, but another quote floated into my mind:

  Freedom lies in being bold!

  I was pretty sure the great poet Robert Frost was responsible for writing that phrase, but I was too terrified to be certain. All I knew was that those words were completely true in my situation.

  I had to have courage if I was going to live.

  My buyer stepped forward to make his way to the parking lot.

  And I took off like a shot in the opposite direction.

  “Ruby!” I heard the irritated male bellow, but I didn’t stop.

  I was pretty much determined to escape…or die trying.

  Ruby

  It didn’t take me long to realize that I was in one of the roughest parts of Miami, but I didn’t care. My bare feet kept hitting the pavement, and I told myself I’d rather face the seedy area than to give in to a man who had paid a fortune to own me.

  Once I was outside the lights of the club, I was met by darkness. Most of the businesses were closed, and the light was so dim that I couldn’t see where I was going.

  But I kept running until I could hear my own ragged breath as I kept pushing forward, getting so close to freedom that I could almost taste it.

  Certainly, my nemesis would have to stop because of his bum leg, and if I could just keep going, I knew I could outlast his endurance.

  I had far more at stake than he did.

  I was out of breath, and in bad shape from the weeks I’d been held captive and inactive, but my drive and energy was strong from being well-fed and terrified.

  Please, just let me escape.

  My fear kept my legs moving, but the lack of light caused my leg to come down on something that sent excruciating pain shooting through my foot.

  “Ouch!” I cried out, trying not to let my injury stop me.

  My steps faltered as the agony gave way to hopelessness. I knew the slowdown was going to put me at risk.

  I tried to keep moving, but I would have fallen if a powerful body hadn’t slammed into my back, and supporting arms hadn’t wrapped around me.

  “Noooo!” I howled, knowing my escape had been brief and the price would probably be pretty damn high.

  I couldn’t see him since he was behind me, but I knew that my buyer had successfully hunted down his expensive purchase.

  Whatever advantages I’d had were lost.

  As I struggled to get out of his strong hold, I could hear his harsh breath on the side of my neck. His grip wasn’t cruel, but he made it clear that he was hanging onto what was now his property.

  Me!

  “Just let me go,” I cried out desperately.

  I gave in to the despair that had been hanging over me for weeks like a dark cloud, the pain of the injury to my foot exacerbating the feeling of helplessness that I’d come to hate.

  His voice was harsh as he rasped, “I’m not here to hurt you, woman. I’m here to help. Dani sent me.”

  My panicked brain took a moment to acknowledge what he said. My new friend had sent me help? She’d really come through?

  “Who are you?” I asked, my throat balking at the usage of my voice after my marathon sprint.

  His hold on me relaxed as he answered gruffly, “My name is Jett. I’m Dani’s brother. She sent me here to rescue you. I’m sorry you had to be afraid during the auction. It seemed easier to buy your freedom than to take on people who might hurt you, and I’m solo on this gig.”

  Freedom? I hardly knew what that meant anymore, but I wanted it more than I’d ever wanted anything. I’d never truly been free.

  I opened my mouth, but a sob was ready to escape, so I immediately shut it down.

  I’m not going to cry. I refuse to cry.

  Maybe Jett was the good guy, but I was horribly afraid that if I started to cry, I’d never stop.

  Relief flowed over me, and the only thing that kept me standing was Jett’s hold on me as he turned me around and surprisingly wrapped his arms around me.

  I felt more secure than I ever had in my tw
enty-two years of existence on Earth.

  I wasn’t sure exactly why, but I was pretty certain it had something to do with the strength and power that he seemed to exude from every pore in his body.

  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.

  Ruby

  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.

  Thinking we were a couple when we’d come through the door, the nurse had put us into a room that had two beds. Jett had talked me through my x-rays and the extensive number of stitches I’d needed to repair the gash on my foot.

  My wound would heal pretty quickly.

  But I wasn’t sure about Jett’s knee.

  I was riddled with guilt over the fact that he’d been injured, and I hadn’t even known there was anything wrong with Jett until the nurse had mentioned how badly his knee was swelling. I’d been mortified when I saw how the denim of his jeans was stretched because his knee was the size of a grapefruit. The nurse had insisted he get checked out, too, something I’d be eternally grateful for since I hadn’t seen the damage myself.

  I’d been too busy worrying about my own injuries, and I hated hospitals, not because I’d spent much time in them, but due to the one horrifying experience I’d had with the institution.

  I’d been so distracted with trying to keep myself calm that I’d failed to notice that Jett’s knee was injured.

  He’d just gotten back from his MRI a few minutes ago, and he’d blown the whole thing off by saying he’d had much worse injuries in his life.

  However, I hadn’t caused any of his other injuries, but I felt directly responsible for the sprint he’d had to do earlier to catch up to me. And I cringed every time I thought about him picking up my weight so effortlessly and carrying me to his car.

  My ears perked up like an alert dog’s as the doctor started to speak.

  “Rest, ice, the brace, and keep it elevated to get the swelling down,” the doctor said in a voice loud enough for me to hear. “Your meniscus is torn, but the tear is in an area that gets good blood flow, so if you do what you’re supposed to do, it should eventually heal. Physical therapy—”

  Jett interrupted in a cranky tone, “I know the drill, Doc. No sense wasting your breath on my injury. I’ve had more PT than any person should ever have to have in their lifetime. I go through the routines myself at home now.”

  “I can see that that you’ve had a long road with this leg,” the doctor said in a more sympathetic voice.

  “My knee was already a mess anyway,” Jett said flatly. “Whatever I did to it tonight is no big deal.”

  “It has taken a beating,” the doctor agreed. “But you didn’t have to add another injury. No more sprints for you in the near future. You’ll need to be re-checked, and your orthopedic doctor in Seattle wants to see you once you’re back home so he can see how you’re healing.”

  “Got it,” Jett grumbled.

  I had to hold back a squeak of surprise as the curtain was suddenly jerked open, and I could see Jett’s unhappy face staring at the doctor like he wanted to punch him.

  “The nurse will bring all your discharge instructions shortly,” the doctor said right before he exited and pulled the door closed behind him.

  The room was silent for a moment before I finally
said, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s nothing, Ruby. Don’t worry about it. I’ve had far worse injuries than this one,” he answered in an annoyed tone.

  Somehow, I knew he wasn’t irritated with me, but he should be.

  “I didn’t cause your other injuries,” I replied, my voice heavy with regret. “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have run away, and there’s no way you should have been carrying me.”

  “Enough!” he said in a booming tone. “I might have scars, and my leg isn’t the greatest, but I’m not a fucking invalid. The last thing I need is to be treated like I need to hang it up just because I have a leg that doesn’t always cooperate.”

  I was a little scared of the volume of his voice, but if I looked at things logically, I could see that he was more frustrated than angry.

  He sat up with a blanket still covering his legs as he continued in a calmer tone, “You didn’t cause this, Ruby. In case you didn’t notice in the car, I had some pretty severe injuries from a helicopter crash a few years ago. I’ve been doing workouts every day to strengthen my quads so they supported my bad knee better, but it was always going to be weak and prone to injury. I’ll heal.”

  “You shouldn’t have come after me,” I said in a tearful voice as I sat up and was finally able to look him directly in the eyes.

  I won’t cry. I’m not going to cry.

  We were both still in hospital gowns, and we were staring each other down. I might have seen the humor in having a hospital argument if I didn’t feel so crappy about what had happened.

  “There was never any question about whether or not I was going to find you after you bolted,” he growled. “We were in a shitty area of Miami, and you were almost naked. I wasn’t going to leave you after I’d just gotten you out of harm’s way.”

  My chest ached from his words. “Most people would have,” I said in a voice that was almost a whisper. “But I guess most people wouldn’t have tried to help me in the first place.”

  I dropped my head and we lost eye contact. Jett was intense, and I wasn’t quite sure how to deal with a guy like him. What kind of person tears after somebody who’s in trouble with no consideration about injuring themselves? Not anybody I’d ever known.