Page 38 of Rebel

I let out a snort because I didn’t trust this fucker. Or maybe I did, and I just wasn’t thinking clearly when it came to Nikki and Livvy. “Your men showed up at the radio station when it was vandalized, you didn’t think it was odd that someone did that to a fucking radio station?”

His brows dipped. “I read the reports, and it was some overeager fan.”

I shifted my gaze to Diesel, my expression clearly said, ‘I don’t trust this motherfucker’. He remained carefully blank as he turned back to the Sheriff. “An overeager fan?”

He nodded. “Is it something more?”

“Someone on your payroll is working for the Blood Fangs,” I snarled at him. “Two of those assholes went inside and trashed the place. If it was goddamn fan, why did they go right past the show’s host and rifle around in her fucking office!” It wasn’t a question, goddammit. My anger was a white-hot fire that needed somewhere to go before it burned me to ashes.

“You know this how?”

“I was there, asshole!” I took a step forward, but Diesel was there, hand to my chest with a subtle nod. “That’s what happened, and you want to know how I know? Because Nikki fucking told me.” I walked away, pacing off some of this anger and frustration. It wasn’t the Sheriff’s fault, not yet anyway, butI was pissed off and worried about a woman who wasn’t even my woman.

Fuck, was this how my brothers felt when their women were in danger?

I hoped not, because I remembered the angry looks and the arguments that happened when I tried to convince them to hang the women out to dry. Not my finest fucking hours, without a doubt, but this shit was torture.

I watched my Prez talking with the Sheriff some more, then Cross got back into his vehicle and drove off.

“Cross is gonna look into the Blood Fangs and see what he can find out about Cameron,” Diesel said as he walked over to where I was standing. “He only knows what we all know about the Blood Fangs, but I think he’s interested now, apparently, he’s a fan ofHighway Pulse.”

“At least one of his men is working with them,” I insisted.

“I agree. Most cops are assholes, but if they lied so blatantly on the forms, it’s a good sign they’re getting paid off.” His jaw clenched. “Doesn’t mean Cross is on the payroll though.”

“I’ll give you that much. Fucker would probably break out in hives if he tried to do something illegal.” We shared a smile and got on our bikes to head back to the clubhouse.

***

Not even five miles later, we had company in the form of four bikers with familiar vests. The Blood Fangs were right behind us, toying with us by riding our ass and then pulling back, again and again. I motioned to my eyes and then the mirror as a warning to Diesel.

He looked and nodded, gesturing for me to go ahead of him and do it fast.

I hit the gas and pushed the limits, watching for my Prez in my mirror. He kept up with me until we were side by side and tilted his head so we made a last-minute exit.

The move worked on a few of the riders but there were still three on our asses and we didn’t have time to slow down or call for backup. Diesel slowed and so did I. We didn’t have a lot of options and even less good options. If we stayed on the road, they could easily outnumber us, but if we stopped and dealt with the three behind us, we stood a damn good chance of making it back to the clubhouse in one piece.

As we slowed, they slowed.

“You ready to do this shit,” Diesel asked.

“Fuck yeah.” I needed something to destroy, and the universe sent me a few Blood Fangs, the actual target of my anger. I wasn’t in the mood for a long drawn out fight, I needed to fuck some shit up and I jumped off my bike with that goal in mind.

“Tattlin’ on us to the cops?” These fuckers were always smirking as if life was one big fucking joke and today it just pissed me off even more. The young fucker with the long, straggly blond hair made a mistake he’d have to pay for today when he turned over his shoulder to get validation from his buddies.

“Real men don’t tattle, asshole.” I swung on him just as he turned to face me, connecting with his jaw in a satisfying crack. “Is this what you came for?” I hit him again with a left hook, connecting with the other side of his jaw. My handsunderstood my thirst for violence and took over, whaling on the motherfucker while a feral growl escaped with every blow.

I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to, which I didn’t. My body wasn’t exhausted, not yet, which meant this piece of shit had to pay the price until my body wore itself out.

“Rebel!”

Somewhere on the surface I heard Diesel call my name, but I couldn’t pull away, couldn’t look up at the warning I heard.

“Make another move asshole and you’re dead.” The voice was close. Too close. But the cold metal pressed against my head was more alarming. “Go on, give me a reason.”

My gaze settled on the man beneath me, bloody and grunting and barely moving. He was no threat, so I nodded to the asshole with the gun pressed to the back of my skull. “You need a reason after what I just did to your boy?”

“Hands up, motherfucker.”

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