Page 14 of Tempted to Rebel

…or because some part of me still craves that gentler side of him—the one that’s capable of love.

Rebel, unaware of my emotional problems, continues our mission by gesturing for me to walk in front of him. “There’s a stairwell over here on the right. We’re going up.”

“Up?” We’re already on the second floor. “How tall is this building?”

“Three stories, but the third is only Ruin’s loft and an attic. The rest is rooftop.”

“So we’re going to… an attic?”

Rebel places his hand on the small of my back to guide me forward. “Don’t chicken out now.”

When we reach the top of the stairs, I’m expecting dust and decay as Rebel pushes open the door, but instead, a gust of cold winter air greets us. We emerge onto a rooftop patio, complete with a bar, a simple metal patio table with three chairs, and a sun lounger forgotten in the corner. A small set of stairs leads to a walkway that disappears over the ledge, likely for a fire escape, and the sprawling city looms all around us. Lights of all shapes and colors dot the streets below, the most prominent being the diner across the street—aptly namedThe Diner—and a tattoo shop a block over. Both businesses scream OPEN in bright pink and blue displays.

“Where are we?” I don’t recognize this part of the city. Despite being at the club several times now, I’ve never been allowed to see anything outside of my blindfold during transit. I glance over the ledge and find a red carpet rolled out below, a line of guests waiting to enter the building. “The club actually runs?”

“Like normal,” Rebel answers from a distance, “yeah. We can’t keep this place running on kinky sex nights alone. She has to earn her keep like the rest of us.”

I glance over my shoulder to find him at the bar. My stomach drops while he rummages through rows of bottles. “Haven’t you had enough tonight?” I step up to the bar and lean across it to snag his chosen bottle from his hand. The glass is freezing cold, but I don’t dare let go. “Your liver’s already swimming, Rebel. Give it a break.”

He scoffs, pulling back empty-handed. “Didn’t realize you cared.” He shoves his hands in his jacket pockets—a leather onethat matches mine—and glares at the vodka in my hand. “But fine, drop it and we’ll go.” Once I’ve set the bottle onto the bar, he leads me to the ledge of the rooftop, takes the three steps up to the walkway I noticed earlier, and spins around to wait for me. As soon as he’s confident that I’m following him down the fire escape, he continues down the half-flights of stairs, only pausing to make sure I’m still behind him.

The back of my neck prickles as we reach the bottom. I look over my shoulder, expecting to see Rage come tumbling down the stairs after us. If he follows us outside, would we see him or hear him first?

“Chill out,” Rebel grumbles, taking my hand and leading me down the last flight of stairs. “You’re ruining the fun.” We cross the street in silence, the bright, neon sign signalingThe Dinerlighting our path. The bell over the door chimes as we enter, and Rebel lifts a hand toward one of the wait staff before leading me down the long row of booths lining the front windows and picking our table. It’s the one at the very end of the row, nestled into the corner of the restaurant.

Once I’m settled onto the seat, he slides in beside me, then drapes his arm over the back of our booth.

“What are you doing?” I look between him and the perfectly-empty other side. “There’s plenty of room over there.”

“Let’s get one thing straight.” Gripping my chin, he turns my face toward his. “Just because we’re fighting right now, doesn’t mean that you are any lessmine.” He brushes his thumb across my bottom lip, his dark eyes swirling with emotion. “But I’m not kissing you, no matter how fucking tempting it is, because Iammad.”

Our server arrives and Rebel orders a double cheeseburger with fries and a Coke, and I order the same in my rush to pick something. Rebel smirks, his fingertips brushing the tips of myleft shoulder. “Rage issogoing to flip his shit when he finds out I’m feeding you greasy burgers and fries.”

I’m mesmerized by the stubble on his chin, the easygoing manner in which he makes everything feel so effortless, the way he touches me so gently even when he says he won’t. It takes me a moment to gather my thoughts, and Rebel spends the time staring right back at me, the slow curve to his lips delicious and sinful. “I thought he wasn’t supposed to find out?”

“Oh, he will. This whole area?” Rebel twirls his finger in a circle. “We own it. Well, technically your brother does since his name’s on all the legal docs, butwerun this part of town. Rage focuses on the club more than anything, but I pay regular visits to the other fine establishments on the strip. The diner, the tattoo shop, the vape store—there’s even a valet for the club, so we run the lot, too, and everything in between.” Winking at me, he smiles. “How do you think I got so sexy, baby? All my tats and piercings come from right here.” He raps his knuckles on the table. “On home turf.”

I glance at the other customers drinking coffee or scarfing down waffles, then I watch the staff as they move around the room and crack jokes with each other. Everything looks so… normal. “You’re saying that the bratva owns this? They run this place?”

Rebel nods. “And all the others. We’re not all heartless murderers and depraved criminals, you know.” He takes a slow sip of his soda. “Sallie-Mae over there is working doubles to take care of her little brother since her parents are sacks of shit, and George on the grill has two little girls at home. But he’s got a hell of a right hook, so he’s run security for us a few times. We keep him out of the most dangerous runs, though, on account of his wife and kid. Then, see that couple over there?” He nods toward two teenagers out past their curfew. “That’s Rina andNeve Ruskov. They’re step-siblings, but you wouldn’t know it, lookin’ at ‘em.”

The teenagers are, in fact, sittingreallyclose to each other. Neve, the boy, leans over to whisper something in Rina’s ear, and her face flames bright red. They throw cash on the table and leave in record time, following each other closely to their car.

I bite my lip. “Shouldn’t we tell their parents?”

Rebel laughs, his shoulders bouncing, while Sallie-Mae slides our burgers in front of us. As he shakes a ketchup bottle, he says, “trust me, they already know.” He digs into his food, groaning as the first meaty, cheesy bite hits his tongue.

My stomach growls loudly, so I pick up a thin fry, dip it into Rebel’s ketchup, and take a bite. Salt explodes on my tongue, the cool ketchup soothing the bite. I lick my lips and a wave of nostalgia washes over me.

I haven’t eaten French fries inyears.

Rebel pinches a handful of fries between his fingers and pops them into his mouth while I go slow and steady, savoring every bite. The Coke is sticky sweet and bubbly, and I suck it down greedily. Once Rebel notices, he replaces my empty glass with his half-full one until Sallie-Mae refreshes them. She smiles prettily at us, her eyes a gorgeous blue and her blonde hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. “Good to see you again, Rebel,” she says warmly, still smiling. “Been busy lately? We’ve missed you on Friday nights.”

He takes a sip of his drink before nodding. “You know how it is, Mae. Winter keeps those stiff-fucks indoors, and that’s where I shine best.” There’s a bite of sarcasm in his voice, but neither of them comment on it. Instead, he closes his hand over my shoulder and squeezes. “This is my girl, Celia. Anytime you see her on the street, you say hello, okay?”

Sallie-Mae turns her bright smile onto me. “Of course! Any friend of Rebel’s is a friend of mine. He’s helped me out morethan I can ever say. So anything you want, darlin’, you just holler.”

Lifting a finger, Rebel clicks his tongue. “Celia’s not myfriend, Mae, she’s mygirlfriend.” To emphasize his point, he presses a tender kiss to my cheek. “Make sure everyone knows it.”

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