Page 32 of Rebels & Rejects

“Who has you following me?” I ask instead, refusing to let him lure me into a false sense of safety. He’s already proven he’s got impressive fighting skills, and the energy exuding from him tells me he’s no stranger to violence.

He refuses to answer, flattening his lips as his childish demeanor slips away, and he once again becomes the guy that chased me outside. I narrow my eyes on him. “Cain?”

He still doesn’t respond, and I run my gaze over him, trying to find something identifiable, but he’s wearing a long sleeve top and pants, so I can’t spot a Reject tattoo, and honestly, I have no idea what someone who works for the Antonellis would look like. A mafia idiot dressed in a suit with that air of arrogance about them? If that’s the case, the kid is definitely not with the Antonellis. Despite the slash of violence surrounding him, there’s a strange, boyish charm about him, but it’s deceiving and makes me question my actions.

I decide to take a gamble. “I know it’s Cain,” I state, hoping I’m right. “Tell him to fuck off and leave me alone.”

The kid’s lips lift up in a delighted grin like he’s finding all of this hilarious. When he doesn’t do anything but smile broadly at me, I spear him with a deadly look before turning on my heel and stomping down the alley, figuring he’s not going to hurt me. He must belong to Cain, and if that’s the case, his orders will be to follow me and report back. I don’t believe Cain would send one of his minions to torture the information out of me. No, I, without a doubt, believe the insufferable asshole would rather do that job himself.

Before I exit onto the street, I call out over my shoulder, “And stop fucking following me!”

***

The kid had enough common sense not to follow me the rest of the way home the other night, and I don’t get the same tingle of awareness when I’m out and about the next day. It feels fucking fantastic like I can finally breathe again, without the oppressive weight of eyes on me. I almost feel like a new woman as I step out of the apartment building on Saturday to run some errands and grab some groceries, and my mood is better than it has been in days as I think about the lovely, relaxing bubble bath I have planned for tonight.

Once I’ve done all I need to do, I pop into the shelter to check on Sheryl and Grace—who are both doing great—before I head home. I’m humming under my breath as I reach the top of the stairs, stepping onto the fourth-floor landing. The only way this day could get any better is if I had a voicemail with some shithead’s name on it, waiting for me to pluck from the face of this earth. Reaching the door to my apartment, I set the grocery bags on the floor to fish out my keys. I pause with the key halfway inserted into the lock, frowning at the peeling green paint on the door as I hear voices coming from inside my apartment. Luc knows not to let in anyone he doesn’t know, so I can’t work out who he could be talking to.

My body is tense, coiled like a spring ready to unfurl as I jiggle the key in the lock until it swings open. Without the wooden barrier between us, the voices within the apartment become clearer. I hear Luc’s distinctive laugh, followed by another male voice that I can’t immediately place. Snatching the bags off the floor, I barge into the room, coming to a stop when I find the kid from yesterday lounging onmysofa.

My eyes immediately narrow on him in suspicion, the two of them turning to face me as they stop talking mid-conversation. I should have fucking known he wouldn’t just leave me alone. But involving Luc? Hell to the fucking no!

“What the fuck is he doing in here?” I bark at Luc, tearing my gaze away from the kid to look at my brother. The smile on his face drops off, and his eyebrows climb up his forehead as he gapes at me.

“Bones?”

“I needed to talk to you,” the kid speaks up, garnering my attention.

I glower at him. “Well, you could have waited outside, on the street.” Dismissing him before he can argue, I snap my attention back to my brother. “What did I tell you about not letting strangers into our home?! Do you have any idea who he is? God, Luc, he could have hurt you, or worse.” Concern for my brother makes my voice crack.

“Whoa,” Bones says.Fuck me,nope, I’m not calling him that... What did he say his name was again? Jon? Jon holds his hands up in a placating gesture. “I’m not here to hurt anyone. I just have a message for you.”

“Well, get on with it so you can get the fuck out of my apartment,” I snap. He’s probably only a few years older than Luc, but knowing who he works for, the people he associates himself with... well, I can’t have him corrupting my brother.

“Cain told me to tell you to be at Toxic tonight.”

I pinch my lips, not appreciating the demand.

“Who’s Cain?” Luc asks, his eyes bouncing between Jon and me. Of course, Luc knows nothing about my issues with the leader of the Rejects. Nor do I want him to know.

“No one,” I blurt out before Jon can think to inform him who the fuck he really is—assuming he hasn’t already. I continue to stare Jon down until he gets the message—spill a word of who you are or my beef with the Rejects, and you’ll fucking regret it. A look I can’t place flashes across his face, but he nods in concession before making a move toward the door.

I want to ask him what Cain wants, but I can’t voice the question aloud with my brother standing right beside me, so instead, I let him slip past me toward the door. Just before he disappears down the hall, he turns back to look at my brother. “I’ll let you know the next time we’re playin’ a game, yeah?”

Luc grins. “Sounds good.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” I bark at Luc as the front door clicks shut.

He narrows his eyes on me. “What the fuck is your problem?” he demands. Luc rarely argues with me. For the most part, he’s pretty good at doing what I say, knowing I’m only trying to do what I think is right to keep us both safe. But apparently, he’s not feeling so agreeable today.

“Do you know who he is?” I volley back.

“A Reject? So? He was nice to me.”

I throw my hands up. Of course, that idiot told my brother who he was.God, I’m going to fucking murder him.“Just because he wasniceto you doesn’t mean he wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in your head if you pissed him off,” I argue. “And there’s absolutely no way you’re hanging out with him.”

He snorts out a pissed-off chuckle. “You can’t control every aspect of my life, Sawyer. I’m nearly sixteen, so I can be friends with whoever I want; do whatever I want. Hell, maybe I’ll sign up to join the Rejects. They seem like pretty cool people.”

I stomp toward him, steam practically pouring out of my ears. “Over my dead body,” I snarl. “I will not let you end up like every other kid in this town—pedaling drugs on a street corner until you get gunned down in a drive-by, all to make some useless point to a gang that doesn’t give a shit about you. You deserve a better life than that.”

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