Page 41 of Rebel

“Just curious.”

She was quiet for a moment, her gaze drifting to the window.“No,” she finally said.“Never.You all gave me something I’d thought I’d lost forever.”

“What’s that?”

Her voice was soft, but there was steel underneath.“People worth fighting for.”

I nodded, understanding perfectly.The club wasn’t perfect -- far from it -- but it was family.The kind that stood together when everything went to shit.The kind worth turning around for.

We crested a hill, and the first glimpse of the compound appeared in the distance.No flames, no smoke.A good sign, maybe.Or maybe just the calm before the next storm.

“Ready?”I asked, slowing as we approached.

Rio checked her weapon one last time, her blue eyes gleaming with determination in the dashboard light.“Born ready.”

I pressed down on the gas, and the SUV surged forward, eating up the final stretch of road between us and whatever waited ahead.The night was still young, and the assholes who’d attacked us were about to learn a painful lesson about messing with the Boneyard.

* * *

The clubhouse was just ahead.I slowed the vehicle and scanned the area.Everything seemed quiet.Almost too quiet.I glanced at Rio and knew she was ready to charge ahead, damn the consequences, and right now, I felt the same way.I hit the gas and continued down the road.

The compound gate stood open when we arrived, which wasn’t a good sign.Typically, after an attack, everything would be locked down tight.Especially since Charming had said they were going to fortify this place.I slowed the SUV, scanning for sentries, finding two armed men posted at the entrance.Their faces tightened when they recognized us, a mix of relief and wariness.I kept the engine running as we approached, one hand on my weapon.Better to be paranoid than dead.

“Thought you two were headed to the safe house,” one of them said, voice low.

“Change of plans,” I replied.“Status?”

“Just the two wounded.Viper and Phantom.”He glanced over his shoulder.“They hit hard but ran when we returned fire and took out three of their men.Cowardly bastards.”

Rio leaned across from the passenger seat.“They coming back?”

“Don’t think so.Not tonight at least.”He stepped back, waving us through.“President’s gonna have questions.”

“Let him ask,” I muttered, rolling up the window and easing the SUV into the compound.

The main yard was lit with harsh floodlights, creating islands of brightness amid deep shadows.Men and a few women moved around the area, weapons visible on hips and shoulders of the men.Outside the clubhouse, a line of bikes stretched in either direction.

I parked next to the clubhouse and killed the engine.“Stay sharp,” I said to Rio.“President’s likely to shoot first, ask questions later when he sees us.To say he’ll be pissed is an understatement.”

She snorted.“Wouldn’t be the first time someone pointed a gun at me.”

“Hopefully not the last either.Means you’re still alive.”

We exited the SUV simultaneously, scanning the yard.Three club members approached immediately, hands hovering near weapons.Scratch, Ripper, and Java.

“Got some balls coming back after a direct order,” Scratch said.

I met his gaze evenly.“Never been good at following stupid orders.”

His mouth twitched, almost a smile.“President’s inside with the wounded.He’s pissed.”

“What else is new?”I started walking, Rio at my side.

Scratch fell into step beside us.“These assholes were definitely professionals.The Morettis didn’t send their weakest links.”

The clubhouse door was propped open, voices and the smell of antiseptic spilling out.Inside, the usual dim lighting had been replaced by bright portable lamps clustered around the pool table and a couple of couches.The tables and chairs had been pushed to the walls, creating a makeshift medical area in the center of the room.

Viper lay on the pool table, his cut and shirt removed, revealing a deep stab wound in his left shoulder.Doc had on surgical gloves and was stitching it closed while Viper gritted his teeth.His face was gray with pain, but his eyes were alert, tracking us as we entered.

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