Page 14 of Rebel

Outside, the cool night air was a relief after the hot press of bodies inside.Rio took a deep breath, some of the tension visibly leaving her shoulders.

“Better?”I asked.

“Different,” she corrected.“Not necessarily better.”

I laughed.Something told me Rio didn’t find many things “better” -- just different kinds of challenging.As she followed me toward my bike, I couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever storm had blown her into our clubhouse was just getting started.

And for reasons I couldn’t quite name, I was looking forward to the thunder.

Chapter Four

Rio

I jolted awake to the sound of my own ragged breathing.The guest room was barely lit, the light of dawn beginning to creep around the edges of the curtains.For a moment, I didn’t remember where I was -- only that it wasn’t my place, wasn’t anywhere I’d called home.Safety was a concept I’d stopped believing in weeks ago.The digital clock on the nightstand read 5:13, and the compound was still quiet.Too quiet.

When I first began my journey back east, I’d had every intention of going to the trial.But somewhere along the way, I’d decided to take a detour, go see the ocean.Or maybe I just really didn’t want to face those fuckers again.From my point of view, I’d been discharged.Why the fuck did they think they could still tell me what to do?

A month ago, I’d have never stopped at a biker compound.Things had changed.I had.I’d become tougher.At first, I’d avoided men like the plague.Then I’d realized what I was doing and forced myself to go to bars and face my fear.Gotten into a few fights.I’d always won.The “incident” had taught me a tough lesson.No one touched my fucking drink.I watched it being poured, kept my hand over the top of it when I wasn’t paying attention, and never went anywhere isolated by myself.Coming here had been a challenge for myself.

Two nights here, and I still couldn’t sleep through the night.Every creak, every shadow set my nerves on edge.It was only supposed to be one night, but when I’d walked into Rebel’s kitchen the next morning, looking more like a haggard raccoon than a human, he’d said I could stay another night.

My phone vibrated against the wooden nightstand, the sound unnaturally loud in the stillness.I reached for it, my fingers trembling slightly.The bright screen burned my eyes, but it was the message that made my blood turn to ice.

I gripped the phone so tightly my knuckles turned white.Your attackers have escaped.They may be coming for you.

The words refused to make sense at first, like they were written in some foreign language my brain couldn’t process.Then they hit me all at once, a physical blow that knocked the air from my lungs.

They were coming for me.

The men who had --

My breath caught in my throat, turning into a strangled gasp.The room swayed, and I closed my eyes against the sudden dizziness.Bad move.The darkness behind my eyelids became a canvas for memories I’d been trying to bury.

Rough hands.

The smell of cheap cologne and cheaper liquor.

My own protests, muffled by a calloused palm.

I forced my eyes open, but the flashbacks kept coming in jagged bursts.

The tearing of fabric.

Pain, white-hot and searing.

Blood on my thighs.

A voice whispering that nobody would believe me anyway.

“Stop,” I whispered to the empty room, pressing my palms against my temples.“Stop it.”

My heartbeat thundered in my ears.Sweat slicked my skin despite the chill in the air.I needed to move, to do something, but my limbs felt like they were filled with concrete.The phone slipped from my fingers, landing on the rumpled sheets.

I focused on my breathing, the way my therapist had taught me.I’d hated going to one, but Dr.Winters had called me several times and finally convinced me to talk to someone.I’d only had a few appointments before I’d moved on, but I used those lessons now.Four seconds in.Hold for seven.Out for eight.It wasn’t working.The panic clawed at my throat, threatening to drag me under.

Two days of hiding here.Of pretending everything would be fine.Since I’d missed the original hearing date, they’d moved it.That was the real reason I’d been traveling this way.Heading back to base.I’d convinced myself everything would be fine.But now, I didn’t think I could go through with it.Didn’t want to.I’d tried so hard to move on with my life.Why did they want to drag me back?

What a fucking joke.

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