Page 2 of Rebel

There was a long pause, and I was worried that maybe I’d pushed too far.

“You still with us Oracle? You don’t have to tell us, it’s totally cool.”

“No, it’s not that. His name is Joe. Joe Cameron is my old boss.” The call disconnected for real this time, but Mia had a big smile because she knew, like I did, that call had been gold. And, more importantly, it would be talked about tomorrow on all the local news stations.

“Well thank you Oracle for kicking off tonight’s show. Good luck to you and I hope you rediscover your love of politics.” I played another song, which gave me enough time to scribble some notes about Joe Cameron to swing back around to later in the show.

“Okay ladies and gents, we’re back. Before we get into our next story, don’t forget to grab your tickets for ‘Rock Out in the Desert’. If you love live music, beer, and sunshine, swing by and don’t forget to stop by and say what’s up, to yours truly. Now who’s ready to share a story from the road?” As the calls poured in, I thought of my own bond unwittingly forged on the road, a bond that only one of us knew about to this day.

Mia tapped on the glass that separated the studio from the production booth, her brows dipped in concern. “Next caller,” she mouthed to me.

I shook my head to free my thoughts from that wild night a little over six years ago and turned my attention to the next caller. My gaze flicked to the screen to see the caller’s name and smiled. “Rebel, you’re on.”

“Yeah, hey.” His voice was deep and smooth as he began. “I’m a biker, as in I spend a shi—” he laughed. “I spend a lot of time on my bike, and one year my club brothers and I were on a road trip to Chicago. It was an epic road trip, but on the way back home we ran into trouble—the kind that came with angerand bullets. My brother had taken a bullet to the shoulder, and he struggled to keep his bike upright.”

“Oh no!” It wasn’t like me to interrupt but I was completely transfixed by the deep baritone and the smooth honey voice of this man, Rebel.

“Yeah, it was a rough day.” His laughter spoke of a man who didn’t frazzle easily, who was cool under pressure. “So I weaved between him and danger, risking my own life to keep my brother on two wheels.”

The more Rebel spoke, the more his voice transported me back in time to a man who’d given me one of the most erotic and thrilling nights of my life. It wasn’t just the memories, though. With every word that Rebel spoke, he sounded vaguely familiar. I shook it off because it wasn’t the first time I’d been convinced that the voice on the other end of the line was my guy, the one who’d given me a daughter.

The guy who walked away without a note, a number, or a look backwards.

“Wow. So,” I began but my voice faltered at the low growl he let out that sent a shiver down my spine. “So,” I tried again. “Are you and this guy you risked your life for, still friends today?”

Rebel’s laughter was contagious. “Hell yeah. He’s my brother in every way that matters.”

“Now that is a real bond. Thank you for sharing your story with us onHighway Pulse, Rebel.”

“Right. I mean, you’re welcome.” His tone was gruff and then the call was over.

I was both relieved and disappointed that the call had ended so abruptly, but I recovered quickly. “Well, let’s see who can top that harrowing tale of bonding on the road. Misty, you have the mic.”

The show and the stories went on but my mind kept circling back to the biker called Rebel and his voice that seemed to take me back to a time and a place that I couldn’t seem to forget.

As soon as the next song break started, Mia rushed into the studio. “What the hell was that?” Her eyes were wide and filled with questions. “Your voice was all shaky. I know his voice was panty-melting, but that’s so unlike you.”

I shook out my tingling hands and let out a long breath. “It was that caller, Rebel. His voice was familiar.” The more I thought about it and replayed his voice—as crazy as it sounded—the more certain I was that it was him. “Rebel is Logan,” I whispered. “Olivia’s dad.” Saying the words aloud made them real and I stared, unseeing, at the floor, as I realized what this meant.

Logan was here in Vegas.

I couldn’t keep Olivia a secret for much longer.

Chapter Two

Rebel

She was here. Right fucking here in town.That thought swirled in my mind on repeat for the past two days. A woman who crossed my mind at least once a day for the last six years, who I pined over for weeks after one incredible night, who turned me off the idea of love and relationships completely. Yeah, my feelings for Nikki were complicated, at least I thought they were, until I heard her voice on the radio while I was working on Hollywood’s old-ass bike.

It was like a blast from the motherfuckin’ past, that husky voice with the melodic cadence like she was always singing her words, it was unforgettable. And then I listened to what she was talking about—loyalty and bonds forged on the road—and I was hooked. Every syllable. Every word. That sexy little laugh, all of it took me back to the ‘Rock Out in the Desert’ festival where we’d met. Her words sounded as if they were meant for me.

Just for me.

A ridiculous fucking thought, I realized, but only after I told the story about saving Maverick’s ass on the highway, altering a few details since it wasn’t exactly legal. She’d been enthralled with the story, totally fucking engaged as she asked about friendship.

And then her voice faltered and that’s when I knew.

She felt it too.

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