Page 36 of Rebels & Rejects

Fucking. Christ. I leave for five fucking minutes to answer a call, and everything goes to shit. I was disappointed when I returned to the dance floor to find the enigmatic woman from before was gone. Of course, she was. She has a habit of slipping away before I’m finished with her. I didn’t even get to ask her her name or get her number.

I never, for one fucking second, thought I’d find Cain’s hand wrapped around her arm while he glared at her with such disdain and loathing. The dark shadows dancing across his face, showcasing him as the formidable leader he is, have made lesser men sob like babies. Yet, the alluring redhead held her ground, returning his dark expression with a furious one of her own. Seeing her go toe-to-toe with a man that has built himself an empire, gathered himself an army, and established such an imposing reputation, well, if I wasn’t a tad scared for her life, I’d have been rock-hard in my jeans. Although the semi I was sporting was uncomfortable enough against the restricting fabric.

The pieces all slotted together as soon as I saw them scowling at one another. She’s the girl he’s had a tail on all week. The one who saw the Reaper kill Python. The one he’s been obsessing over.

Why was she even at a Satan party? And in Python’s room? The thought that she was there to fuck him, that she’d forgotten all about me when she’s occupied my every thought since that night, has my own anger spiking as I step up behind her.

“What’s going on here?” I keep my voice carefully neutral, along with my impassive expression.

“Oliver, get her out of here before I do something she regrets.” I can hear how close Cain is to losing his shit. He’d never hurt a woman, that’s not how he works, nonetheless he doesn’t tolerate disrespect. He has spent years carefully crafting an indomitable reputation and amassing a loyal army understanding of his cause, and the fiery spitfire in front of him is testing his last nerve.

Before the situation can escalate, I tug her away from him, noting the surprise in her eyes when she turns to look at me, quickly squashed by a flare of anger and suspicion. Thankfully she doesn’t resist as I maneuver her past the watching Rejects members and through the sea of party-goers in the club. Neither of us says anything until we’re out on the street, the loud thud of the music nothing but background noise as the cool night air lifts her hair, blowing it in my direction and sending a whiff of lavender and something else flowery that I can’t quite place. It’s refreshing and surprisingly feminine given her barbed attitude and take-no-shit persona.

The second we’re outside, she yanks her arm out of my grip, spinning in her boots to pin me with as deadly a glare as she gave Cain. It’s the first real chance I’ve had to look into her eyes, and even though they’re spitting fire at me, the electrifying blue color renders me speechless for a moment. Together with her fiery hair, it strikes an impressive image. One that’s likely to feature in all of my dreams for the proceeding future.

“You’re a Reject?!” She spits out the words like they are poison on her tongue, and her gaze drops to linger on the tattoo sleeve of my right arm as she most likely tries to pinpoint the Reaper Reject tattoo. Not that she will find it there. Both of my Reject tattoos are on my chest. The original one I got when I was thirteen covers my left pec, right over my heart. I had it drawn freehand by a girl I was in love with, the girl I thought I’d marry someday.Child-like love. Child-like fantasies. Child-like notions.

The other Reject tattoo, the one that symbolizes what the Rejects are today, is painted on my other pec, the two sitting side by side, in contrast to one another. The past and the present. The life that could have been, and the life that is.

Her steely gaze meets mine, brimming with anger, but underneath it all, she seems almost... disappointed. I’m just not sure why. I don’t know why it matters to her if I’m a Reject or not, but based on the hostility in her tone, it clearly does.

I open my mouth, but I’m not entirely sure what I’m going to say. Her question is obviously rhetorical.

“Were you going to have sex with Python that night?”

The question catches us both by surprise.Dammit, that sure as fuck isn’t what I should be asking her. Ishouldbe finding out what she saw and trying to determine why Cain thinks she’s lying. Yet the answer to those questions is far down my list. I want to know abouther. I want to know who she is, her name, if she feels this attraction as intensely as I do, if she’s gotten herself off to that quick alley fuck as often as I have.

“That’s none of your business,” she snaps irritably, her refusal to answer my question only serving to annoy me. She’s right, it isn’t any of my business, but that doesn’t mean the thought of her going off and screwing some other guy, moving on as if I was just another fuck, doesn’t piss me off. It’s irrational and out of character for me, even so, that doesn’t make it any less real.

I take a threatening step toward her. “You’ve been stirring up a whole heap of trouble since that night. Cain knows you’re lying about something.”

“So?” she bites back angrily. “My secrets are exactly that—mine. He hasn’t earned any right to know them. And neither have you.”

I force away the scowl on my lips, attempting to soften my expression as I relax my stance, attempting to appear less intimidating. My fingers twitch at my side, desperate to touch her. “I’m sorry,” I begin in a gentle tone. “Why don’t we—”

The shaking of her head cuts me off, and she steps back, immediately reopening the gap I just attempted to close between us. With a straight spine, she lifts her chin to meet my gaze, and her closed-off expression halts me in place.

“Just leave me the fuck alone.”

She turns on her heel and strides down the street while I reluctantly watch her go until the darkness swallows her up. When I’m standing alone in the street, I pull my phone out and text Bones, telling him to follow her home. I convince myself it's because Cain wants eyes on her at all times. He doesn’t trust her. He thinks she knows more than she’s letting on, and maybe she does, but I can tell myself I’m putting Bones on her under Cain's orders until I’m blue in the face. The truth is, I want to make sure she gets home okay. And I refuse to dig into what exactly that means.

When Bones confirms he’s on it, I head back into Toxic, letting the loud music drown out my churning thoughts about her. Cain said her name was Red. I’m guessing it’s a stage name or nickname of some sort. It’s fitting, giving the glossy, copper-red strands of her hair, but I want to know her real name. I need to feel it on my lips and hear it in my ears like I need my next breath.

I grab a glass of whiskey off a passing waitress, barely sparing her more than a passing glance as I move to join Cain in his booth. Tonight is the first night we’ve opened Toxic and run our fight nights here since we took over the Satan’s territory, and so far, it’s been a success. Cain seems to think so, too, based on the slight uplift of his lip. You wouldn’t know from looking at him that he’s happy. In fact, to most people, he probably appears irritated, but if you’ve seen Cain furious like I have, you know when he’s not. His frustration at Red earlier seems to have disappeared, and he surveys the club with a proud look. And so he should. He’s thriving. He’s creating an environment where men can come and release their anger without shoving guns in one another’s faces. Sure, we’re all thugs, and the shit we do is far from legal, but there are viable alternatives to selling firearms and drugs, sex and people. He doesn’t talk about his future plans, other than getting vengeance for Evie, but I know he wants to change things here, to make the town safer for the people that live in it. I’m just not sure if it’s a pipedream that none of us will live long enough to see come true or if it’s a viable future for us all.

I slide into the opposite end of the booth and lean my head back against it. I let my eyes drift shut, but when her face flashes behind my eyelids, I snap them open again, finding Cain watching me with a questioning expression.

“What’s wrong with you?”

I sigh, sipping on my whiskey.Mmm, the good stuff.

“Remember that girl I told you about?”

“The one you fucked here a few weeks ago? Yeah.”

I jerk my head toward the entrance. “That was her.”

His eyes widen, and he huffs out a deep chuckle. “No shit, are you serious?” His laugh turns into a caustic bark. “Well, did you make her come? Maybe she’ll be more inclined to open up to you if she knows you can satisfy her needs.” There’s a wicked gleam in his eye, and I know he’s only half-joking.

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