Page 80 of Rebel

“Dixon,” he corrected softly.“It’s just us here.”

“Dixon,” I tried again.“What are you doing?”

He stepped closer, close enough that I could smell the leather of his cut and the faint scent of his soap.“What I should have done the moment you agreed to be my old lady.”

My heart hammered against my ribs.“Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”

A sardonic smile crossed his face.“You know how I take my coffee, which side of the bed I sleep on, and that I talk in my sleep sometimes.”

“That’s not --”

“You know I check my gun twice before I holster it.You know I can’t stand the taste of cilantro.”His voice dropped.“And I know you sleep with a knife under your pillow.I know you sing in the shower when you think no one can hear.I know you’re braver than half the patched members in this club.”

His words wrapped around me, uncomfortably accurate.The intimacy between us had crept in during our time together -- in shared meals, in quiet conversations in the early morning hours, in the way he always seemed to appear when my anxiety was spiking.

“This isn’t about romance,” he continued, though his eyes said otherwise.“But to be clear, I care about you a lot.”

I glanced at the ring again.“And what exactly does that mean in club terms?Charming already ordered a property cut.”

“It means you’re officially mine.Not just in the eyes of the club.But also in the eyes of the law.”The possessiveness in his voice should have bothered me, but instead, it sent a different kind of shiver down my spine.

I swallowed hard.“And what does the club think about this sort of thing?”

“Most of the couples are married.Although, to be fair, Shade learned a few bad habits from Wire and Lavender over at the Dixie Reapers.He has a tendency to hack into vital records and marry people without their knowledge.”

That surprised me.Not so much Shade’s hacking skills, but the fact most of the couples were actually married.

“There are other benefits,” Rebel added.“Legal protections.If something happens to me, you’d be entitled to my share of club earnings, my bike, my place.And the life insurance money.Yes, I have a policy.It’s not a million bucks, but it’s enough.”

“Don’t.”The word came out sharper than I intended.“Don’t talk about you dying.”

His expression softened.“It’s the reality of this life, Rio.You know that.”

I did know.Had known every time he’d left on club business with a gun tucked into his waistband.Had known when I’d stepped into the fray with him.

“What about what I want?”I asked, needing to assert some control over what felt like a runaway train.

His confidence faltered for the first time.“What do you want?”

That was the question, wasn’t it?Once my dream had been a military career.Of course, that would have been easier if the men in charge of such things hadn’t found ways to hold me back.Then I’d been discharged and decided to travel.Now I was living in a motorcycle club compound, helping in any way I could, and contemplating tying myself permanently to a man who walked the edge of the law daily.

And yet, the thought of a mundane law-abiding life seemed impossible.Hollow.

“I want…” I started, then stopped, searching for the right words.“I want to not be afraid anymore.To not be alone.”

Rebel stepped closer, close enough that I had to tilt my head to maintain eye contact.“I promise to always keep you safe,” he said, his voice low and intense.“To be by your side as long as I can.Whatever it takes.”

The sincerity in his eyes made my chest ache.“You could go out on a mission tomorrow and not make it back.”

“That’s why I said for as long as I can.”He took my hand, his calloused fingers warm against mine.“I’m not asking for forever, Rio.I’m asking for however long we’re both alive.Forever is just a fairytale.This is real life.”

The ring caught the light again as he held it between us.It was nothing like I’d ever imagined for myself -- no diamond, no proposal on one knee, no romantic setting.Instead, it was a worn silver band, a promise of protection, and a man whose dangerous life had become intertwined with mine through circumstance and choice.

“Yes or no?”he asked, the confidence back in his voice but vulnerability in his eyes.

I looked at the ring, then at him.This was my reality now -- this club, these people, this man.Somewhere along the way, I’d started to fall in love with him.Even if I hadn’t said the words yet.I’d not been the sentimental type since I’d lost my mom.I’d tell him one day.I held out my left hand.“Yes.”

The relief that washed over his face was almost comical, like he’d genuinely expected me to say no.He slid the ring onto my finger -- it was slightly loose, but not enough to fall off.

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