Page 27 of Tempted to Rebel

But a familiar wave of hope, intoxicating and bubbly and bright, is what makes it hard to breathe.

I clutch the pregnancy pamphlets to my chest, praying to whichever god is listening that they be kind and gentle this time—that they give me a beautiful, healthy baby… and a father who wants them.

Chapter 9

Rebel

After Celia’sunexpected pregnancy test at the doctor’s office, I flip through the pamphlets as Ruin drives us home. I’ve read a few paragraphs aloud about how the body changes since I know he’s listening. He might be more interested in Celia’s body than the baby itself, but he doesn’t have to be a father figure since the baby will have me.

And, I guess, it’ll have Rage too. The fucker is determined to knock Celia up first, but according to his phone app, she’s ovulatingnow,not when they had sex a week or two ago. My chances of beingdaddyare stronger than ever, and they’ll be even better once I nut inside of her again.

“It’s pure Heaven, man,” I muse, tossing the pamphlets into the backseat of the SUV. Rage insisted on driving Celia home in the Ferrari himself, citing thathe can’t trust menot to take a detour.

He’s right, but he doesn’t have to be such a dick about it.

“She feels like the finest silk wrapped around your cock. Tight and soft and so goddamnwarm.” I smack Ruin’s shoulder. “You ever had a girl like that?” To be honest, I’m not sure if he’s ever gotten his dick wet in his life. It’s not exactly a conversation we’ve had, despite living together for over twenty years now. Ouryoungest brother isn’t exactly a talker, and if he’s gotten pussy outside of the house, he hasn’t fessed up to it.

Ruin grunts, pulling to a stop at a red light. “She is soft on the inside.” He flexes his fingers over the steering wheel, like he’s remembering how it feels to touch her.

So damn good.

I shake my head, smiling. “Yeah, man, she is. But you should stick something other than your fingers inside her. Not a knife,” I clarify, tapping the handle of the nine-incher he keeps strapped to his hip, “but your dick, bro.”

He’s silent for a moment. “She would scream.”

“Hell yeah, she’d scream. Creaming all over your cock, tits bouncing as you pound into her.” I lick my lips at the memory of those very tits, round and soft and so goddamn perfect. I need to suck her nipples next time. Soon. No, tonight. Fuck, as soon as we get back. She’s still fertile, so my chances of knocking her up will double if I come inside of her again. I may not know how the all the biology works, but that math should check out.

Ruin’s phone suddenly rings, vibrating inside the cupholder. He pays it no attention, like always, meaning that I have to be the one to answer. “Go for Rebel.”

Static crackles across the line. “Rebel? Hey, put Ruin on.”

“He’s driving.” I kick my foot up on the dash. “What’s up?”

“Turn on the Bluetooth, motherfucker!”

Rolling my eyes, I hang up to connect the Bluetooth, then call back. The nameZanelights up Ruin’s phone screen. I’ve nicknamed him and his brother KaneThe Brothers Grimmon account of how fucking macabre they are. Killing for sport and using the victims as inspiration for their next series of paintings is a bit too rich for my blood, but Ruin and them go way back, all the way to grade school. They may have learned how to carve up bodies so well together, for all I know.

Masters in the art of killing, all of them. No pun intended.

“Ruin,” Zane says urgently, “there’s a body drop in The Backyard.Before you ask, it’s not one of ours. I know you’ve been keeping this shit out of the news, but the cops are sniffing around on account of a drug bust a few houses down. We’ll move her if you want?—”

“You’ll owe us,” Kane interrupts, sounding as arrogant as I remember. “But we’ll do it for you.”

“Move the body,” Ruin says simply, “and send location.” He turns on our blinker and takes a sudden right, heading towards the district that the bratva affectionately calls The Backyard, a seedy shit hole with more problems than the city’s police force can keep up with. If you want drugs or sex, you’re guaranteed a hit in The Backyard. Whether or not it’s agoodhit is up for debate.

“Stay with the body until we arrive.”

Kane hisses, “we don’t have time for?—”

“We willmaketime. Mercy isn’t going anywhere that we won’t know about.” There’s a scuffle across the line, then Zane sighs. “Sorry, he’s on edge since we found our next target. Impatient, you know?”

I don’t know and don’t care. Hanging up, I run a hand through my hair. I’dkillfor a shower, a double shot of vodka, and a handful of painkillers. Rage did a number on my body during our brawl, not to mention the hangover pounding inside my skull. I roll down my window to try not to hurl.

“Call Rage,” Ruin orders, adjusting his rearview mirror to check for the red Ferrari tailing us. They’re a few cars down, Rage likely too distracted by Celia’s tits stretching my t-shirt to follow closely. Sighing dramatically, I pull up his number in my contacts, but his name pops up on the screen before I can hit the call button. The fucker is always on top of this kind of shit.

“There’s been a body drop,” he announces, “I’m sending you the coordinates.”

“We already got ‘em.” It feels good to be one step ahead of Rage. “Race ya there.”

---