Page 19 of Claimed By the Rebel

Grabbing the shirt, I hold it out in front of me, unable to breathe as I read Rebel Hearts Motorcycle Club scrawled beneath their logo. I’m frozen in place, my fingers growing numb from gripping the shirt so hard in my fists.

Maybe he got it at a second-hand store, I try justifying to myself.

Tossing the shirt on the bed behind me, I race to the closet and fling the double doors open. There, hanging right up front in all its glory, is a Rebel Hearts cut. There’s no mistaking it and there’s no way in hell he found this a thrift shop.

Oh god. Oh my god. Oh my fucking god.

I ran away from one club, right into the arms of another. More specifically, I fell into bed with a member “in security.” I know what that means. Razor is the Enforcer. The one who roughs people up and intimidates their targets into getting information. The Enforcer for the Serpents is a brutal man with callouses and scars on his knuckles from the beatings he unleashes on his enemies.

Razor has never treated me like that, my heart tells me.

What do I even know about Razor, really? This is all a lie, my brain argues.

I slam my eyes shut and put my hands over my ears, feeling overstimulated and out of control. My mind races with possibilities and explanations that don’t end with Razor lying to get me into bed.

He was there when I almost got hit by that car. He showed up right when I needed him last night, which means… he was already parked outside the compound. There’s no other way he’d get to me so fast, let alone know where to find me.

“No,” I whisper, tears clogging my throat and burning my eyes. But the truth is finally setting in.

I drop my hands from my face, my entire body shaking with rage and betrayal.

Razor has been stalking me, or at least stalking the club, and used my escape as an opportunity to exploit not only me but the club. That's the only thing that makes sense. He wanted to humiliate my brother by using me.

Do I really believe that? The man I’ve gotten to know isn’t manipulative or violent. Then again, anyone can put on a show for a few days. He pretended to be nice to me, he even listened to me spill my heart out about everything that happened to me, and the whole time, he was probably dying with laughter inside.

What a fool I’ve been. A complete idiot. A naive woman desperately seeking belonging and human touch. I went and trusted the first man to show me an ounce of kindness, only to have it blow up in my face.

I listen for the sound of the shower, nodding to myself when I hear it still running. I grab my beer-soaked clothes from last night, which are dry by now, but still smelly and disgusting. Hesitating for a moment, I debate on whether to steal some of Razor's clothes but decide I don't want anything of his.

I cringe as I step into my shorts and pull on my shirt, my nose wrinkling against the assault of stale beer and cigarette smell. Even so, this is a better option than staying here. Gathering up the rest of my scant belongings, I make a run for the front door, leaping down the porch steps and letting my feet carry me anywhere but here.

After a few minutes of turning down one street corner and then another, I slow to a walking pace. I was starting to draw attention, which is the last thing I want.

Shit. Now what? The Rebel Hearts will be after me soon, as well as the Serpents. I mean, what the hell? How did my life come to this? I never should have left the compound. Viper was right, I can’t survive without the club, whether I like it or not.

It’s not quite noon yet, which means the majority of the members are still passed out or groggily waking up and stumbling back home. They might not have even noticed I was gone, or if they did, maybe they forgot in their drunken stupors.

Am I really going back?

What other choice do I have?

I fought so hard to be free…

And once I was, I ran right into another prison.

I take a deep breath and blow it out, accepting my fate. Better to go with the devil you know, right? At least, that’s how the saying goes.

Taking a moment to get my bearings, I plot out the fastest route on foot to the Serpents’ compound. Good thing Maplewood is a small town and Main Street is never more than a few blocks away. Once I get there, it'll be a straight shot to the compound.

I’m sweaty and exhausted by the time I get to the old farmhouse. Leaning against the outside wall next to the back door, I take a moment to calm down and paste on my usual smile. I just need to pretend that nothing happened. I didn’t run away last night and give my virginity to a member of a rival club. That would be crazy. Reckless. Idiotic.

When I’ve waited as long as I dare without going unnoticed, I straighten my shoulders and hold my head high as I step into the kitchen of the clubhouse. Brandi is there, though instead of the strapless dress she was wearing the night before, she has a torn sweatshirt, undoubtedly from whichever member she slept with last night. For the first time in my life, I can relate to Brandi.

It’s not a good feeling.

She turns, looking me up and down before frowning. “Rough night?” she asks, though I can tell she’s already lost interest. Fine by me.

“Something like that,” I reply with a smile. Brandi waves me off before grabbing a half-empty bottle of whiskey. She disappears into the shadows, crawling back into bed with a wake-up drink for her man, I guess.

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