Page 13 of Rebel

“What did you expect?”

“More chaos.Less discipline.”She nodded toward where a Prospect was quietly removing an overly intoxicated hang-around.“You run a tight ship.”

“Charming does,” I corrected.

A loud crash from the main room drew both our attention.Someone had knocked over a table of drinks, and the resulting commotion had a few tempers flaring.Rio’s hand instinctively moved toward her weapon again, her body tensing for trouble.

“Easy,” I said quietly.“Happens every Friday.No one’s shooting up the place.”

Sure enough, Havoc was already moving in that direction, his presence alone enough to defuse the situation before it escalated.The guilty parties began cleaning up, chastened looks on their faces.

Rio exhaled slowly, but the wariness hadn’t left her eyes.“I should go.”

“Because of a spilled drink?”

“Because I don’t belong here,” she said bluntly.“This is your world, not mine.”

I studied her face -- the weariness beneath the defiance, the shadows under her eyes suggesting she hadn’t slept properly in days, maybe weeks.

“My spare room offer still stands,” I said.“Clean sheets, and like I said, door locks from inside and no questions asked.”

She frowned.“Why would you do that for a stranger?”

“Because you look like you haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in weeks.And because we take care of our own.”

“I’m not one of yours,” she countered.

“Military,” I reminded her.“Different branches, different wars maybe, but same foundation.”

Something in her expression cracked, just for a second -- a glimpse of raw vulnerability quickly masked.“It wasn’t combat that got me discharged.”

I waited, giving her space to continue or retreat.

She drained her glass and set it down.“Two men in my unit thought a female soldier was fair game.Drugged me.Did what they wanted.”Her voice was flat, clinical, like she was reading a report.“By the time the dust settled, they ended up in the custody of the MPs while waiting for a hearing, and I had a medical discharge.”

The anger that flashed through me was immediate and visceral.Not pity -- she wouldn’t want that -- but the kind of cold fury that demanded retribution.I kept my expression neutral with effort.

“Those men still breathing?”I asked, my tone matching her matter-of-factness.

A ghost of a smile touched her lips.“Last I checked.Military justice isn’t always just, but it’s also not always swift.I don’t know if they’re dragging things on for a reason, or they’re just backlogged.”

I nodded, understanding more than she probably realized.“The spare room comes with no expectations, Rio.Just a secure door and a night of peace.”

She looked around the clubhouse once more, her gaze lingering on the various members and women, the exits, the potential threats.I could almost see her weighing her options, calculating risks against her obvious exhaustion.

“One night,” she finally said.“I’m leaving at first light.”

“Your call.”I straightened from the wall.“My place is down the road from here.You can follow me.”

“If this is a trap --”

“It’s not,” I cut her off.“But you can keep your weapon, your suspicions, and whatever else makes you feel safe.I’m offering a room, not demanding your trust.”

Something shifted in her expression -- not quite relief, but perhaps the closest thing to it she could manage.She nodded once, decisively.

“All right.”

As we moved through the crowd toward the door, I caught Chaos watching us, his eyebrows waggling suggestively.I shot him a look that promised retribution later.Havoc nodded slightly as we passed his table -- acknowledging the situation but trusting my judgment.

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