Page 67 of Rebellion

What Fresh Hell is This?

Gray pounded his fistagainst the wall. “God damn it. Tate, I don’t want him anywhere near Angelina. Keep him downstairs, don’t let him know she’s even in the building.”

“You got it, man.” Tate turned and shut the door behind him.

A bubble of fear that felt like too much caffeine formed behind my breastbone. “What’s going on, Gray?”

He continued getting dressed, pulling on a black t-shirt. “Foster and I have some shit to work out.”

Guess I’d better put some clothes on too. “Okay, but this sounds like more than that.”

He sat on the bed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “When we... when I left, I didn’t know how to get you out of my head. So, I went to The Asylum.”

I did not like where this was going. The feeling of being naked went beyond me not having anything on.

“I was angry, mostly at myself, but taking it out on anyone who crossed my path.” Lines formed around his eyebrows and across his forehead.

Please don’t let him say anything about all the beautiful women he dominated. They’d flock to him. I was all about the forgive and forget thing but hearing that he’d fucked other women would be hard to take. “Gray, you don’t have to explain anything to me.”

“I’ve got a shit ton to explain to you, but I won’t say anything I think will hurt you. I didn’t touch another woman at The Asylum. I did punch Foster in the face, though.”

“Ha.” I covered my mouth to hold my surprised laugh in. Totally inappropriate. Even if Foster probably deserved it. I cleared my throat. “Why? What happened?”

Gray shook his head, still mad. “Foster was being his same old superior fuck-face self. I haven’t let him get to me like that since...”

He stepped back and shut up.

Uh, that was weird. “Since when?”

Either something outside caught his eye or he didn’t want to look at me. His gaze was focused out the window. “A long fucking time ago.”

I didn’t realize they’d known each other for a long fucking time in the first place.

“This has been boiling up between the two of us for years. I let guilt turn me into a pussy.”

Hmm. Gray had shut me out of this conversation even though we’d just bared our souls to each other not ten minutes ago. I stomped across the room and shoved his shoulder so he had to turn and see me, listen to me. “I resemble that remark, butthead.”

I had his attention again. He stroked a finger down my cheek, but I could see the barely contained anger in the set of every muscle.

“He made me weak, Angel, and when I lost you I was done with everything. So, I went to the club looking for a fight. I got one.”

I hated physical violence. He knew that. It made my insides into explosive roller coasters. I’d much rather plot and exact revenge in a stealthy you’ll-never-see-me-coming way. “Let’s get out of here, then. We’ll get the guys and take off. The jet is still at the FPO, you can fly us to Vegas or LA or even home.”

The muscle in his jaw ticked and I recognized that fire burning inside. “We’re not running, love. I don’t want you always watching your back.”

I liked this less and less with each passing minute. “It doesn’t have to be like that. Let’s just get on with our lives. We can start looking for a place to open a club together. It can be anywhere in the world we want. We can make a whole new life now.”

Gray sat back down on the bed and pulled me into his arms. “Foster is a vindictive son of a bitch. He’s been angry at me for years. I tried my best to placate him, make amends. I owed him.”

That was not how I read their relationship at all. I always knew Foster and Gray had some sort of rivalry but didn’t have a clue what it was about. Penis size had been my best bet, and my money was on Gray.

“What happened between you two?”

“I quit caring about Foster and his problems when I found you. You showed me that there was so much more I wanted out of life.”

Awww. “Stop trying to make me cry.”

He kissed the top of my head. “I will happily spend a lifetime making you cry if they are happy tears.”

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