Page 15 of Rebels & Rejects

The squeal of tires against asphalt on the street below cuts him off, and I stiffen as I look toward the window, suddenly on alert. Car doors bang as I quickly climb to my feet and move to peer out the window.

My mouth goes dry as I find two cars parked across the middle of the road outside my building. I count ten burly men with weapons surrounding them as their eyes roam over the building, but what terrifies me is the man standing at the front of the group. With his snake tattoo prominently on display, he’d be recognizable anywhere.

“Go to your room,” I bark to Luc as I spin around.

“What? Why? What’s going on?” He asks, a slight tremor to his voice.

“Just go,” I snap as I hurriedly stuff the board game under the sofa. “Hide somewhere and stay quiet.” He hesitates a second longer before getting to his feet and moving toward his room. Just before he crosses the doorway, though, I grab his upper arm and pierce him with an intent look. “No matter what happens, or what you hear, donotcome out. Got it?”

His lips part on a gasp as he stares into my eyes. I can see the protest on his lips, but thankfully, he must see how fucking serious I am right now, and he just nods his head in agreement before I gently nudge him into his room.

I stand and watch as the door closes behind him, my heart hammering in tune to the sound of footsteps as the men hurry up the stairwell. Forcing myself to focus, I scan the room for any other signs that someone other than me lives here, letting out a small sigh of relief when I don’t spot any of Luc’s stuff sitting out.

If it's possible, my body coils even tighter when I hear the sounds of the first men reaching my floor.Fuck, they really are here for me.I’d been hoping it was just a coincidence, but as I hear the thundering footfalls in the hall, the chances of this being a coincidence get slimmer and slimmer.

The boom, boom, boom of a heavy fist knocking against a door makes me jump, and it takes far longer than it should for me to realize it’s not actually my door but my neighbor’s. The noise is followed by the sound of the door being kicked in and people yelling before several gunshots go off. The whole time, I just stare at my kitchen wall—the one that’s adjoined to my neighbors—envisioning in my mind's eye what is likely playing out next door and feeling so goddamn thankful that it’s not me they’re here for. With Sheryl having been gone for so long, it was a distinct possibility. Although, I’m not even sure if Python knows who her friends are or that she even has any.

I’m not sure how long I stand there, listening to the indistinguishable sounds coming through the thin wall. Time loses all sense of meaning. It could be mere seconds or half an hour later before I hear the sounds of retreating footsteps thumping their way down the stairs, followed by the rumble of an engine starting and car doors slamming.

It’s only when a deathly quiet falls, so heavy that for all I know, I’ve gone deaf that I finally react to the close call. My legs tremble, my whole body shaking as I sag to the floor in relief. I’m very aware that my neighbors are most likely lying dead next door, however all I can think of isthank fuck it wasn’t me.

***

Eventually, the shaking stopped, and the fear and relief gave way to anger. Waves and waves of red-hot, molten fury. Outrage that we should have to live in such fear; at the knowledge, we aren’t even safe inside our own homes. I don’t know what my neighbors did to piss off the Satan’s, and I don’t care. It might not have been me they came for this time, but it could be next time, which scares me. The entire ordeal only incentivizes me to kill Python. Honestly, I want to destroy his whole fucking crew, but I’m just one person. There’s no way I could take on an entire gang of criminals. For now, I just need to worry about the head of the snake.

My anger warms me for the whole night, getting me through my shift in the club and all of the next day as I plot and plan, and the next night, I watch from the shadows as a party rages—I swear it’s all they fucking do—within the thin timber-frame walls of the Python’s house. I can hear the music pounding and feel it vibrating through the asphalt all the way across the street, where I’m once again hidden while I watch tattoo-covered men dressed in leather and half-naked women filter in and out of the party.

I’ve got Raven hidden in the shrubs at the far end of the street for a quick getaway. With my thigh-high leather boots, black booty shorts, and matching crop top, not to mention the same honey-blonde wig as last time, covering my distinctive copper locks, I look more than ready to get down and dirty with the Satan’s—which is exactly what I want them to think I’m here to do.

Running my thumb along the lip of my boots, I let vengeance heat the blood in my veins as I finger the hilts of the two small daggers I have securely tucked inside. I can practically taste the sweet aroma that comes from purging the world of yet another scumbag. It’s a distinctive flavor—a mixture of sweet and spicy. It’s heady and intoxicating, and it gives me a head rush like nothing else.

With adrenaline giving me a natural high, I stride confidently across the street and into the house. I head straight for the kitchen and search through the various bottles of spirits on the counter until I find a sealed bottle of whiskey. Unscrewing the cap, I bring it to my lips and down a decent portion of it before making my way into the living room. Anticipating that Python will be lounging in the same spot as last time, I push my way through the dense crowd of wasted dancers until I spy him amongst his crew, at the back of the room, exactly where I knew he would be. They appear casual, at ease, but I see the way Python warily eyes up the various people in the room, determining if they are a threat—or could be of use to him—before moving on.

I stop when I’m just off-center of his line of sight, far enough away that I don’t look suspicious, but close enough to gain Python’s attention when I start swaying my hips and openly drinking from the bottle. I lose myself in the music, the lyrics ofGasolineby Seether washing over me as I hold the whiskey bottle loosely between my fingers and alluringly trail my fingers across the bare skin of my abdomen, skimming the top of my booty shorts. I teasingly dip my fingers beneath the waistband and let my head fall back, my eyelids dropping to half-mast. Through my eyelashes, I peek at Python. His eyes observe my every movement with a carnal desire, and the corner of his lips quirk up in a sleazy grin that says everything about the dirty thoughts running through his head.

I don’t have to put on a show for long before he says something to the men surrounding him and gets to his feet, stalking toward me. Everything about him screams predator. He thinks he’s the most threatening person in the room. Little does he know he’s caught in my trap, and he won’t escape alive.

The song switches toFigured You Outby Nickelback as his hand comes to rest low on my hip, giving it a possessive squeeze as he pulls me in.

“You disappeared on me.” There’s a threatening weight to his tone, and I know if I don’t play this right, he’ll lose the thin thread of control he has over his temper.

I don the personality I use to work at the club and smile coyly at him, ensuring none of the hatred I feel for him is visible on my face. “I came back, though.” I peer up at him with innocent, sultry eyes and allow my fingers to brush over his chest, making it clear that I came backfor him. This is true, just not in the way he thinks.

He assesses me for a long moment before choosing to let go of his anger, a sordid grin curling around the edges of his lips. “Hmm, well, I’m sure you can find a way to make it up to me.” There’s a dangerous edge to his voice, one that says I have no choice in the matter. It makes my spine straighten, even though I know tonight will never get that far.

Forcing a submissive, innocent look to my face, I look up at him through my eyelashes as I bring the bottle of whiskey to my lips again, taking another deep swallow before I run my tongue along my lower lip, catching a stray droplet. He tracks the movement with dilated pupils before he smirks. His expression is a slimy thing that I’m sure he thinks has women buckling at the knees but only makes me suppress a shiver of disgust as he wraps his meaty hand around the bottle and tugs it out of my grip, not even bothering to ask if he can have some first. But then men like him don’t ask for things. They just take them.

Tilting his head back, his eyes stay focused on me as he chugs a quarter of the bottle, finishing it off before he shoves it into the arms of some random person as they pass by. His free hand claims my other hip, and I bring my hands up to rest on his shoulders, scraping my fingers teasingly over the bare skin of his upper arms. He grinds against me as song blurs into song, and I fantasize about chopping his fucking hands off with every squeeze of my ass and lick of my neck. I picture my skin washed red with his blood, the feel of his heart against my palm as it stutters to a stop, and by the time he tries to push me to my knees, expecting me to happily suck him off in the middle of his goddamn living room, I’m so fucking ready to get this over with.

“On your knees,” he growls in my ear, his words a clear demand.

When I resist, his fingers dig painfully into my shoulders, but I grit my teeth, pushing past the urge to dick punch him. Instead, I laugh, a noise that’s the perfect balance of drunk and seductive. “Baby, what I have planned for you is more than a quick face fuck.” I slip my fingers underneath his shirt, digging my nails into his skin before dragging them down over his slight potbelly. I bite into my plump lower lip as I look up at him through my eyelashes. “It’s going to take all fucking night.”

His eyes are glazed over with alcohol and laced with desire as he snatches my hand and starts dragging me across the room and up the stairs. I can hear the sound of people fucking coming from behind some of the doorways while others are fucking right out in the open. Still, I pay them no attention as he pulls a key out of his pocket and unlocks the last door at the end of the corridor, flicking on the light as he ushers me in.

He purposefully locks it behind him and tucks the key back into his jeans pocket, and I watch every move with narrowed eyes. When he turns to face me, I let him lead me to the bed, pushing me down onto the mattress. His hands grope me everywhere, leaving fingerprint bruises on my tits and ass, while I let out obscene-sounding moans that any idiot could tell are obviously fake. He’s too concerned about his own pleasure to give a shit, though.

He rolls onto his back and cocks a brow at me as his hand moves to undo his leather belt, letting it hang loosely as he pops the button of his jeans and pulls himself out. He strokes his less than impressive length while I resist rolling my eyes as I gasp. “Oh my.”

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