Page 56 of Rebels & Rejects

Interesting. Not only might Red be the secret weapon we’ve been looking for, but she also might be Cain’s kryptonite. God knows he could do with having his world shaken up a little. He’s used to being the leader; the one calling all the shots, and ever since Evie was taken, he hasn’t let himself give a shit about anyone else. His walls are higher than even Red’s, and reinforced with steel and concrete. Evie was always the one who was able to get through to him when he withdrew into himself and pushed everyone else away. Without her around, there hasn’t been anyone to pull him out of the darkness. Red might drive him nuts, but she also challenges him in a way that only Evie did. Who knows, perhaps she could be a good thing for him... or one of them will end up killing the other.

***

Cain may have written off Red and the Reaper, but I’m not giving up on her just yet. She came offering her help once, and I’m hopeful I can convince her to do so again. The only thing she truly cares about is Luc, and I can only imagine the anxiety it causes her, worrying about what might happen to him when he’s out and about in Black Creek. But what if she didn’t have to worry about that? We could offer him protection, ensuring a few of the kids are with him whenever he’s out. But better than that, we might be able to offer him a future that’s not rife with gang violence. Cain’s ultimate aim is to seize control of the whole city once the Antonellis have been taken care of. If he doesn’t, someone else will. Most likely the Grim Bastards, and other than the Antonellis, Grim is the last one we want taking control. He’s a sadistic fuck in his own right. In fact, he’s next on our list—after the Antonellis. Even so, let’s deal with one megalomaniac at a time.

It’s been a week since Red stormed out of Radiant Park, leaving Cain in a piss poor mood. A week of waiting for her to make her move. I knew she wasn’t going to come back and offer her help again. She’s got too much pride for that, but I’ve been waiting patiently for her to go after her next victim. I believe her when she says she’s the Reaper, but the only way Cain will, is if I can provide proof. Besides, there’s no point denying I’m dying to see her in action. The infamous Reaper. Just the thought of it has my foot pushing down on the accelerator as I follow the dot on my map across town.

I got Jon to put a tracking device on her bike for this very occasion, and I’ve been keeping an eye on it ever since, waiting for her to take it out for a spin. My phone went off with an alert that she was on the move fifteen minutes ago, and I immediately grabbed my keys and got in the car.

It’s just past eleven at night, and even though it’s late, I pass plenty of people on the street, walking down the sidewalk, ducking into bars, huddled in doorways, as I follow the blue dot on my map toward the city limits. Soon, the tall buildings fade away to suburban streets as I approach the outskirts of the city. Looking out the windshield at the ramshackle houses, I can’t help but wonder what business Red has out here. Half of the homes look derelict and vacant, covered in graffiti with smashed in windows where vagrants have broken in, most likely to do drugs or to have a roof over their head for a night or two.

Checking the map app on my phone, I notice Red’s bike has stopped in the clearing just up ahead and, slowing down, I pull up to the curb outside an abandoned house, squinting down the street to see if I can spot her through the darkness. Unable to make anything out, I grab my phone from the holder and make sure my gun is tucked in the waistband of my jeans before climbing out of the car.

The cool night air blows around me as I quietly close the car door, peering left and right down the street to make sure I’m alone. I’ve never been to this neighborhood before and honestly I’m not even sure whose territory I’m in right now. Probably some no-name gang who hasn’t made enough noise to feature on the Reject’s radar.

Satisfied that I’m alone, I head down the sidewalk at a brisk pace toward the clearing. Just as I’m passing the last house, the faint whisper of voices reaches my ears, and I slow down, lowering myself to a crouch so I can remain hidden as I peek around the side of the building.

Across the road, the avenue opens up into a reasonably sized lawn area that’s overgrown with weeds and looking half dead. In the center is a children’s playground, containing rusted equipment that most likely hasn’t been used in years. I can just make out a swing set, with the seats missing, leaving dangling chains that jingle in the breeze, and standing in front of it is Red and some dude I don’t recognize.

He tries to grab her, but she easily sidesteps him, kicking her leg out to connect with the back of his knee in a move that sends him to the ground with a cry of pain. He whips his head toward her and snarls something I can’t make out from here.

Frowning, I keep low as I cross the street, ducking behind a burnt-out car. I don’t want to alert Red to my presence and end up distracting her. Remaining in a crouch, I angle myself, so the action camera attached to my chest has a clear shot of what’s going on. It would probably be enough for me to just tell Cain I saw her with my own eyes, but I want him to see it for himself. Red’s not just any woman. She’s fierce and defiant. She’s not afraid to stand up for what she wants, and I’m pretty sure I’ve only scratched the surface of the intricate paradox that is this mystifying woman.

I watch as she barks out a laugh at whatever the dude said, sneering at him like he’s dog shit on her boots. He climbs to his feet, a look of thunder on his face, but before he can turn to face her, she wraps one of the chains from the swing set around his neck, yanking hard on it, so he’s forced backward, his back arching to an uncomfortable point.

He claws at the chains around his throat as he struggles to remain on his feet, but Red easily keeps a hold of the other end, only pulling tighter on it the more he fights. She’s saying something to him in a low voice that I can’t hear, but as his lips start to turn blue, I’m pretty sure he’s not listening to a word she’s saying.

His clawing becomes more frantic as he reaches desperately for Red. His nails dig into her leather jacket, but she manages to shake him off, shifting to stand slightly behind him, so she’s out of reach of his flailing hands. As he runs out of air, his legs give way beneath him, only resulting in the chains digging more painfully into his neck. A deathlike gurgle bubbles out of his mouth as his whole body starts to convulse, his hands falling to his sides as the last of his life drains out of him.

With a final, full-body jerk, he falls still, his body going slack. Red watches him closely for another long moment before finally loosening her hold on the chain. The links tap together, the metallic noise ringing out across the otherwise silent clearing as she unwraps it from around his throat, and with a soft thud, his body drops to the ground, lifeless.

Standing over it, she looks down at him with an impassive expression, like she isn’t the reason he’s dead. But then, she’s done this countless times before, so why would she look bothered by what she just did.

“You can come out now.”

She’s still staring at the dead guy, but after a second, she turns to look in my direction.Fucking hell, how did she know I was here?

Not seeing any point in continuing to hide, I stand and step out from behind the car, striding toward her. She never takes her eyes off me, and her inscrutable expression makes it impossible to determine how she’s feeling about my being here. As I get closer, I can make out the hard lines around her lips, the cold glint in her eye. She almost looks like a different person. Nothing like the seductive vixen I met that night in Toxic, or the fiery redhead who shows up at the clubhouse and goes toe-to-toe with Cain without blinking an eye.

It’s almost like Red has stripped herself of everything that makes herher.Like she’s an empty vessel, void of thoughts and feelings, focused solely on the task in front of her. It’s disorienting, like she’s here, but at the same time, she’s not.

When I’m standing over the body, I tear my gaze away from her stony one to glance down at him, noting the mottled bruising around his neck.

“Who was he?”

“The result of spunk that should have died in a condom.”

With a final sneer, she lifts a narrow, five-inch blade out of her jacket pocket and crouches down beside him. With professional movements, she flicks up his top and begins to cut through his skin in a clinical manner, slicing from the top right of his abdomen down to just above his pubic bone before she carves across the underside of his ribs until anRis inscribed into his blood-smeared skin.

“Why the Reaper?” I ask as she wipes the blood off his abdomen, as if checking her handiwork before she wipes the blade clean on his jeans and gets to her feet. She fixes me with an apathetic look.

“You’re the ones that started calling me that.”

My brows pull together as I glance back down at the guy’s chest. “Then what’s the R about?”

She shrugs, sheathing the blade before tucking it back in her pocket. “It can be whatever the fuck you want it to be. Reaper, Red, Reprobate, Rapist, Repugnant shitstain. It really makes no difference to me.” She waves her hand toward the dead man. “I use it on my gang-related kills, but they’re all the same abusive assholes who deserve the end they get.”

There’s a lot to unpack in that one sentence, but before I can figure out what question I want to ask first, she speaks again.

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