Page 29 of Tempted to Rebel

Everything would be fine if it weren’t for Celia. The serial killer is only here because of some freaky obsession with her. My brothers are only ignoring their bratva duties because of her presence in their lives. No one can see reason because she’s a poison in our veins, taking over our lives without us realizing the danger until it’s too late. She’s a sickness, a plague, a?—

Fucking bombshell.

My gaze snaps directly to her the moment I step into the empty apartment. Teeth still clenched, I take in her appearance from head to toe. I’ve never seen her like this—not in any of her records and definitely not in person. Her pouty lips are swollen and pink, the tip of her nose and tops of her cheeks matching in color from the cold winter air. Her hair is a wave tumbling down her shoulders, caressing the swell of her breasts hidden beneath aPierce the Veilt-shirt that undoubtably belongs to Rebel, the leather jacket slung across her torso looking sinfully sexy despite the sweatpants doing absolutely nothing for her figure.

Our eyes meet, and an electric rush sparks like lightning in my veins.

Whatisit with this woman?

Rebel claps me on the shoulder while Ruin closes the door behind me. “Than!” he cheers, grinning. “Glad you could join us. The body’s over here.” Leading me into the adjoining bedroom, I find Rage kneeling alongside Zane, one of the men we contract out for odds and ends relating to corpse removal. He and his brother are some of the best at hiding evidence, so it makes sense that they’re here.

Banishing thoughts of Celia from my mind becomes impossible once I crouch beside them.

The victim looks damn near like her.

“Does she know?” I ask, rubbing the backs of my eyelids. Surely, they’ve at least told Celia that she might be in danger. It’s not just one victim anymore—it’s four in the span of a few weeks. The killer is ramping up, growing more impatient as he grabs the next best thing he can rip apart. There’s no telling when he’ll finally go after Celia.

Rage grunts, which isn’t really an answer. But the tension in his shoulders and the vein throbbing in his neck tell me thatno,he hasn’t said anything to her about the murders.

Because admitting that your father might be out to kill your girl—well, I don’t envy him or the others for that truth bomb.

Not one fucking bit.

Not even when Rebel hooks his arm around her waist and presses tender kisses to her neck, or when Ruin loops his fingers through hers, or when Rage reenters the room and crashes into her like a tidal wave, kissing her with such force that they tumble into the wall. She makes these little gasping sounds, like his fingers on her skin feels as electric as her voice does on mine, each willowy sound setting my nerves on fire more than seeing him devour her does.

They break away and he’s breathless, lost in the warmth of her doe-eyes, when he finally speaks.

“I need to tell you something, and you can’t freak out about it.”

She bites her plush bottom lip, just like how she does in my dreams. “Why not?”

“Because if you freak out,” Rage murmurs, thumbing a golden pendant dangling against her throat, “it could hurt the baby.”

My ears ring loud enough to make me wince.

The baby?There’s no way she’s pregnant. It’s too soon. I just dropped her off a few days ago—there’snoway?—

Unless.

The image of Rage fucking Celia in my bed at the safe house flashes in my mind hotter than hellfire. I never saw them have sex, only walking in at the right moment to witness the aftermath, but I haven’t been able to get the idea of it out of my head. Was he gentle? Slow? Furious while he pounded deep and flooded her womb? Or did she ride him like she rides me—full of sorrow and need and hurt—trying to fill the hole in her chest with the hole between her legs?

I’ve never had sex with Celia, but when I can’t sleep and her voice is whispering in my head, I find myself wondering what it would be like—dreaming of the possibilities, of the taste of her skin and the soft, tender sound of her cries as she comes.

I take a deep breath to calm my raging heart, but it drops to my stomach like a rock. If there was ever any hope that my brothers would let her go, it’s extinguished in this exact moment—in the way they hold her, touch her, taste her, each of them as gentle as the last, like they need her in one, solid piece for the news that comes next.

Rage breaks the news without warming up to it. “The man who broke into your house? He’s killing people.” He tenderly cups her cheek. “He’s killing women who look just like you.”

“He is practicing,” Ruin rumbles nearby, “for his real target.”

“Because she’s perfect.” Rebel’s lips curl into a sneer. I hadn’t noticed when I first walked in, but he’s got one hell of a shiner and a busted bottom lip. “If she’s perfect for his sons, she’s perfect for him too. Goddammit.”

Celia blinks and looks between the three of them. “I don’t understand.”

Sighing, I meet her bewildered gaze. Maybe if I’m the one to give her the bad news, she’ll hate me for it, and I can finally get her out of my head. “Our father. He’s here in the city. He’s killing women to send us a message.” I wasn’t sure that it washim before, but he left a note tied to the victim’s wrist this time, addressing it to all four of his sons.

this is all your fault

all of you

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