Page 50 of Rebel

“Didn’t expect what?”I prompted, lifting my head to see his face.

Something vulnerable flickered in his eyes before he masked it with his usual confidence.“Didn’t expect to want to keep you.”

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to hold his gaze.

“Good,” I whispered.“Because I’m staying.”

His arm tightened around me, and I felt the tension drain from his body.Neither of us spoke after that.We didn’t need to.In this moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, our bruised bodies testament to the violence we’d survived together, words seemed unnecessary.

I drifted toward sleep, my mind replaying the events that had led me here.The attack that had nearly broken me.Meeting Rebel.The gradual pull into his world.The fight tonight that had shown me who I truly was -- and who I wanted to be.

Tomorrow would bring new challenges.The official recognition as Rebel’s old lady.The continued war with the Morettis, unless by some miracle they backed down.The lingering threat of Ellis and Denton, who wouldn’t stay down forever.Sure, I’d told them to turn themselves in, but would they?Tonight, though, I allowed myself to simply exist in this space of belonging.

As sleep claimed me, one final thought surfaced: I’d spent so long fighting against needing anyone that I’d forgotten what it felt like to be wanted.Not just for my body or what I could offer, but for my strength.My resilience.The very qualities that had kept me alone for so long were what had drawn Rebel to me.Being a strong woman in the Army wasn’t necessarily a good thing.Not when the men in your unit didn’t want to accept you.They tended to have an old school mentality and thought I had no place among them.

* * *

The sound of metal crashing against metal jerked me from sleep.I bolted upright, instantly alert, my hand already reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there.Beside me, Rebel moved with similar precision, his body tensing for combat.

“What the fuck?”he growled, voice rough with sleep.

Footsteps thundered down the hallway.The bedroom door burst open without warning.Chaos stood in the doorway, chest heaving, eyes wild.Blood spattered his cut like abstract art.

“Morettis are hitting back,” he panted.“They’ve got Java.”

Rebel was already moving, grabbing jeans from the floor.“When?”

“Found out ten minutes ago.Shade immediately started accessing the cameras around town.Last we heard, Java was making a coffee run to that twenty-four place in the next town.We think he was ambushed on the way there, or on his way back.”

I slid from the bed, ignoring the protest of my bruised body.“Is he alive?”

Chaos’s eyes flicked to me briefly.“Yeah.For now.They sent proof of life -- cut off part of his pinky finger.”

My stomach lurched, but I kept my face neutral.This was the reality of the life I’d chosen.No room for squeamishness.

“Everyone’s at the clubhouse waiting,” Chaos said.“Charming wanted me to get you two.”

“We’ll be there.Just need a minute to get dressed.”Rebel ran a hand over his face.I could tell the news had hit him hard.

Looked like my peaceful moment was over.Time to jump back into the war I’d brought down on the club.

Chapter Twelve

Rebel

The Devil’s Boneyard clubhouse buzzed with the kind of quiet that made my skin crawl.Not silence -- never silence with this many bikers in one room -- but the low hum of voices pitched just above a whisper, of boot heels scuffing the floor as members paced, of knuckles rapping on tabletops and phones being checked for the hundredth time.Three days of nothing from Java.Three days where every ring of a phone had us all jerking our heads up, hoping for news, dreading news.

I leaned against the far wall, watching the makeshift command center they’d set up in the main room.Maps spread across the pool table.Laptops open, their screens casting blue glows on tense faces.A whiteboard stood in the center, covered in names, locations, and times -- data that meant something to someone, but looked like chaos to me.The chaos of desperate men trying to find their brother.

Ripper stood nearest to me, his fingers twitching against his thigh in a nervous rhythm.His eyes hadn’t left the door in twenty minutes.

“Anything?”I asked.

He shook his head.“Fuck all.”

Across the room, Stripes slammed his palm against the wall.“I’m telling you, we should’ve hit the Morettis three days ago.The second Java went missing.”

“And I’m telling you,” Viper countered, voice low but sharp, “that would’ve been suicide without intel.We don’t know if the Morettis have him or if they’ve already killed him.But if he’s alive, going in guns blazing could make them decide to cut any loose ends.”

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