Page 8 of Rebel
“Yeah, now beat it,” Bolt ordered. He tore his gaze from hers, his jaw tight, before leaning in close enough to let his lips ghost the corner of her mouth—almost a kiss that had him wanting to take more from her.
“This isn’t finished,” he growled, rough and certain, like a promise and a threat all at once. “Now, stay fucking put, Rebel,” he said. “Or I’ll tie your ass to the chair until our meeting is over.” Bolt walked out to the noise of the Bastards and Harlots shouting over each other, leaving Rebel pressed up against Savage’s desk, still breathless, furious, and, if he wasn’t mistaken, completely turned on.
The bar smelled faintly of leather and smoke; the long table that they all sat around was scarred from years of use. Savage sat at the head, his heavy ring tapping against the wood as the others settled in. Bolt dropped into a chair, the weight of Rebel’s fear still hanging on him as guilt consumed him for locking her in Savage’s office during their meeting.
Banshee leaned forward, elbows on the table, her green eyes sharp. “She can’t stay here. Not with the Dead Rabbits sniffing around Huntsville. They’ll hit every safe house in reach once they get a lead on her.” The Harlot’s Prez was right. Bolt had intel from one of his guys in the FBI that they were kicking in doors all over the city looking for him and Rebel. He just hoped like hell that Jace was lying low somewhere safe.
Savage nodded. “So where do we send them?” he asked. Ryder and Banshee looked at each other as though trying to decide where to send Bolt and Rebel on their next vacation.
“I know a place,” Banshee said. “It’s in Minnesota, though. It’s a cabin off a logging road up North with nobody around for miles. My husband and I had to stay there for a bit while we were on the run from the Dead Rabbits. It belongs to an old friend who owes me quite a few favors. I can have it well stocked, it’s already secure, and it’s nice and quiet. They’ll never think to look there.” Bolt had heard bits and pieces about how Banshee came to America looking for her older brother, Cillian, when her then-boyfriend went missing. She knew that the Bastards were a good place to start looking for her brother, and when she found him there, they pledged to help her out. The Dead Rabbits had followed her to America and were also looking for her boyfriend. It was a whole ordeal, but everything worked out in the end.Hell, she even started the Royal Harlots, so it was a win for the club. Their sister club was amazing, and the Ol’ladies really liked having their own club to belong to.
Bolt hated the thought of running Rebel farther away from Jace, but he knew Banshee was right. Huntsville was already a hot spot for the Dead Rabbits. “How do we get there without bringing hell with us?” he asked.
Ryder spoke up from the end of the table, arms folded. “We fly. I can have the bird fueled and ready to take off in an hour. I can get you from Huntsville up to Minnesota before anyone’s the wiser. We’ll leave no tracks, and no trails.”
The men and Banshee exchanged looks, the decision settling in like a weight. Savage broke the silence. “Then it’s set. Bolt will take Rebel North, and Ryder will get them there. Banshee, you and one of the girls need to go fill her in—she’ll hear it easier from you.”
Banshee barked out her laugh. “I don’t think that’s the truth,” she said. “You guys are just a bunch of pussies afraid of Jace’s sister, but I can handle this. I’ll take Winter with me,” Banshee said with a short nod. “She’s calm and steady. Rebel won’t feel like we’re railroading her, as she would with you three yahoos telling her what to do.”
Bolt leaned back in his chair, rubbing the back of his neck. Rebel wasn’t going to like being uprooted again. She was already jumpy, already raw from Kirk showing up in the parking lot earlier. But he’d rather have her pissed than dead.
“There is something else you need to know,” Bolt said before Banshee left the table. “She’s got a stalker, and the asshole followed her here. We saw him in the parking lot earlier. He’s an older guy with gray hair, and his name’s Kirk. Can you keep an eye out for him? I don’t know if he’s dangerous or not, but it’s better to be on the safe side with these things.”
“Does she know this guy?” Banshee asked. This was the part that he didn’t want—a whole lot of questions from everyone about how Rebel knew her stalker. He understood why she hadn’t filled out the paperwork to put in a restraining order against him.
“She does, but I’d like to leave it at that,” Bolt said. “It’s her story to tell, not mine.”
“We can hold down things here,” Savage said. “Just keep her alive, Bolt. That’s your only job now. Jace is counting on you.” He was well aware of the fact that his best friend was counting on him to keep Rebel alive.
Bolt met his Prez’s stare and gave him a short, firm nod. “I won’t let anything happen to her,” he promised.
Rebel
Rebel watched as the two women walked into Savage’s office. She wasn’t sure why they were there instead of Bolt, but she was pretty sure that she was about to find out.
Rebel sat at Savage’s desk; her fingers wrapped around a mug of what they were passing off as coffee that had gone cold hours ago. The clubhouse had quieted since Bolt disappeared to meet with Savage and the others, but she could still feel the tension crawling through the walls. Something was coming—she could feel it.
The sound of boots on the tile was what had pulled her from her thoughts. Banshee walked in first, her sharp eyes softened just enough for Rebel to see the pity behind them. Another woman followed her into the small office. Her dark hair falling loose around her shoulders, her presence steady, calm in a way Rebel didn’t know she needed until that moment.
Banshee took the chair opposite her, folding her hands on the table. “Rebel, we need to talk.” Well, shit. She hadn’t expected that they’d be jumping right to it.
Her stomach dipped. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“It isn’t,” Banshee admitted. “The Dead Rabbits know you’re here. Bolt too. They won’t quit coming for you both—not until they’ve got blood to show for it. Huntsville’s not a safe place for you anymore.”
Rebel’s grip tightened on the mug. She hated the way her pulse jumped at the mention of Bolt, hated that it made her chest ache knowing that he was in danger too. “So what happens now?”
Winter slid into the seat beside her, her voice softer. “I’m Winter,” the woman said. “We need to move you both. We’ve found somewhere quiet. Somewhere that no one will think of looking for you guys. You won’t be alone—Bolt’s going with you.”
Rebel’s breath caught. She wanted to argue, to say she was tired of running, tired of feeling like a ghost in her own skin. But the memory of Kirk’s eyes in the parking lot shut her down cold. If the Rabbits were coming too, she didn’t stand a chance on her own.
Banshee leaned forward, her tone firm but not unkind. “It’s a safe house up in Minnesota. It’s remote and secure up there. I know the guy who owns the place, and he’ll have it stocked for you both. Ryder is our pilot and will fly you both out tonight. You’ll be off the grid before the Rabbits can sniff out your trail.”
Rebel looked between them, fighting the war inside her chest. Fear, anger, and exhaustion all played through her, but threaded through it all was a strange, reckless relief. If Bolt were going with her, maybe she wouldn’t have to carry all this alone anymore. After all—he was the only other person on the planet who knew her dirty secret. Her only problem with all of this was the way Bolt wasn’t the one telling her all this. Why had he sent in two women she didn’t really know to explain what was going to happen? She knew exactly why that was—he was a coward.
Rebel stood and walked out of the office, down the dark hallway, to find the three cowards who couldn’t tell her what wasgoing to happen next, face to face. She stared down each one of them, and Savage stepped forward.
“Now, you can’t be mad at us for wanting to keep you safe,” he insisted. “We promised Jace that we would.”
