Page 21 of Tempted to Rebel

Claiming Celia for himself isn’t only because he likes her. It’s because he knows that Rebel and I will like her, too—and finding someone who can tolerate the three of us isn’t something you simplydo. It’s an act of divine intervention having thrown her in our path.

When she ran away the first time, it was mostly anger that slipped free.

Now that she’s disappeared from under his nose for a second time, it isn’t just anger rising up—it’s pain. Because despite all of his best efforts, he has to come to terms with the fact that some things are out of his control.

Celia may be one of those.

“This is not your fault.” I stare at the empty cage in our living room, my arms crossed over my chest. She didn’t break out—our brother Rebel let her out. “He broke the rules.”

Rage is barely listening, too focused on his phone to hear me. He grunts in response, glaring at the screen. “I shouldn’t have given him a key.”

Of course, he’ll continue to find ways to blame himself.

He pours over security feed, tracking their descent from the roof to the diner across the street, until finally they end up in one of the cars from the club’s valet lot. “They went for a little joyride,” he growls, shoving his phone into his pocket. After running a hand through his hair and tucking in his shirt, he shrugs on his suit jacket and grabs the keys to his SUV.

I finger the knife strapped to my hip, slipping it in and out of its holster. “Where are they now?”

“Not far. Let’s go.”

Pinpointing Celia’s location is easy with the GPS tracker inside her collar. We stop by the valet office for a spare key before following the map to one of the most popular hills in the city and silently scanning each car idling on the cliffside overlook. Most of them are your typical suburban outfit, but one stands out—the bright red Ferrari. In typical Rebel style, he chose the most inconspicuous joyride possible.

Not only that, but it’srocking.

We pull up beside them and Rage jumps out of our car before we’ve even stopped. I slide the gear shift intoparkwhile he interrupts our brother’s fun.

I wasn’t invited to watch, but I slip out of the passenger seat and make my way to the front of their car to peer through the window. It’s too fogged inside for me to make out more than shadows, but with Rage sitting in the driver’s seat, it’s easy to picture Celia and Rebel on the passenger side. Is she the one rocking in his lap, or is he crammed against the dash whileramming inside of her? Are their bodies woven tightly together, blurring the lines between where she starts and he ends, or are they barely touching one another?

I wonder what it’s like to be wrapped up inside of her. To be consumed in her presence, unable to see anything outside of her light and warmth. I picture Celia kissing each of my brothers and wonder what it is about her lips that they enjoy. IfIkiss her, will I taste a kaleidoscope on her tongue?

That could be why Rage and Rebel are so obsessed. Not to her, but to the waves of color she radiates. The taste and touch of a blushing rose, or the radiant gold of honey laced with a sugar so sweet, we’re doomed to gorge ourselves to death.

I can hear them moaning, their voices neither clashing nor melodic. Merely the sounds of two people falling apart. Within seconds after the crescendo, Rage reappears, snapping the driver’s door shut and storming off into the distance. I keep my hands in my pockets and watch him until he disappears up the long stretch of road toward the hilltop. He’ll be back once he cools off.

Someone inside the car suddenly presses their hand against the windshield, smearing the condensation and allowing me to peer inside. Celia is wrangling her body back inside her clothes as quickly as possible, clumsily bumping into both the window and the ceiling of the car, until finally she tumbles out of the side door.

Her hair is a wild tangle of warm auburn locks framing her face in a fiery halo from the pink sunrise. She looks up and around quickly, her eyes wide and sweatpants on backwards. “Where did he go?” she asks, still looking around while fidgeting with the ends of her t-shirt.

I nod toward the slope extending up the hill. “He’ll be back.”

She curses under her breath and rakes her fingers through her hair. “He just—he just sat there.”

Rebel emerges from the car a second later, his skin flushed and his hair as wild as hers. “Baby, don’t worry about him. He just needs to walk it off.” He slips Celia’s arms into a leather jacket and zips it up halfway, then does the same for his own.

Touching her throat, Celia prods the fresh bruises peeking out from around her leather collar. “He’s going to be angry. I wasn’t in the cage like I was supposed to be.” She looks over at me like I hold the secrets to solving her problems with Rage. All I can do is stare right back. There’s a layer of sweat at her hairline, little wisps curling and sticking to her skin.

While Rebel tries to soothe her, I commit Celia’s current appearance to memory. Not only is she flushed from what I assume is sex with Rebel, but she’s also distressed, a worry line creasing on her forehead. She looks at me without truly seeing me, lost to the turmoil inside her head.

“He’s always angry. That’s his thing.” Rebel pulls her into his arms and murmurs something in her ear, leaving me out of the conversation. He kisses her cheek, then tilts her head up to kiss her lips. It’s a tender moment, made even softer by the way she looks at him once they pull apart.

Like he’s holding her heart in his hands.

Unlike Rage, it doesn’t bother me that Rebel and Celia are getting closer. It was bound to happen the moment I carried her back into our lives. “He’s upset that you chose Rebel,” I interject, “before him.”

Celia turns her frown onto me. “Why the hell would I choose to be with the maniac who’d rather choke me out than be nice to me?”

It doesn’t have to make sense. It’s just what Rage wanted.

“Don’t worry,” Rebel says, pressing another kiss to Celia’s lips, “he won’t take it out on you. I promise.” Releasing her, he gives me a quick look before heading up the road. “I’ll go talk to him. Stay here with Ruin.”

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