Page 21 of Rebels & Rejects

I’m too far away to make out everything that’s being said, and I don’t waste time squinting in the dark to try and see who is talking or to whom, instead shoving my feet into my boots. No doubt whoever it is is looking for me, and they’re getting the other Rejects on the job. The wind changes directions, blowing my way, and I distinctly hear the words “blonde girl” and “missing,” and know I need to get out of here ASAP.

Fuck.

I hurriedly tug on my leather jacket, ignoring the gross feel of Python’s blood crusted on my skin as I zip it up before pulling the blonde wig off my head. I stuff it in my duffle, jam my helmet on my head, and as the bike roars to life, easily heard all the way on the far end of the street, I twist the throttle and take off, flying down the road. The sound of the engine drowns out any shouts thrown my way, and I don’t dare look back to see if anyone is following me. Instead, I race through the city, making last-minute turns and weaving in and out of the sparse traffic as I constantly check my mirrors until I’m confident no one is following. Only then do I slow down to a leisurely speed and turn my bike homeward.

***

Despite my late night, I’m up early the next morning, munching down a bowl of cereal when Luc stumbles bleary-eyed and still half-asleep into the kitchen.

“Morning.” I grin brightly at him, and he just scowls, mumbling something incoherent as he grabs himself a bowl and empties the last of the cereal into it. Damn, I need to make a list and go shopping today. And I need to stop by and let Sheryl know Python will no longer be a problem. None of the Satan’s will bother any of us again. But will the Rejects be just as bad as them? Worse? Only time will tell.

I wait patiently until he’s nearly finished with his breakfast and looking more alert. “Don’t go to school today,” I say as he shovels the last spoonful into his mouth.

His brows tug together as he looks at me, his eyes clouded with suspicion.

“Why?”

“Just don’t, please? Stay home for a day or two.”

A crease forms between his brows as he stares me down. “Does this have anything to do with what happened the other day?”

I purse my lips, mulling over my answer before I respond. Of course, when he stepped out of his room after the Satan’s left our building the other day, he had a bunch of questions for me, none of which I answered, much to his chagrin. After a tense moment, I huff out a sigh. Things were so much easier when he was younger, and he just did as he was told or could easily be distracted by the prospect of spending the day watching cartoons instead of going to school.

I try to keep Luc out of as much of my life as possible. He doesn’t need to know the seedy things I get up to. He already knows about the club—he needs to know where he can reach me in case of an emergency, but he doesn’t need to know the rest of it. The problem is, he’s getting older and more inquisitive, and he’s starting to put some of the pieces together, and that terrifies me.

“Reaper Rejects have taken control of Satan territory,” I finally tell him, giving him part of the story, but nowhere near the whole thing.

His eyes widen in surprise. “How do you know that?”

“It’s none of your business how I know that,” I snap. “I just do. So until we know what they’re planning on doing, just stay home.”

He studies me for a long moment, with a slight frown, before finally nodding. “Okay.”

The tension drops out of my shoulders, relief that he should be safe here—or as safe as one can be in Black Creek—overcoming me.

“But only if you stay home too.”

Fucking asshole.I scowl at him. “I have to work tonight.”

He shrugs his shoulders like it’s no big deal. “Call in sick.”

“You know I can’t do that. We need the money.”

He quirks a brow. “Seriously? I’m sure we can survive if you miss one shift.”

I open my mouth to protest, but he talks over the top of me. “Don’t think I don’t know about the shoebox full of cash hidden under the floorboard beneath the sofa.”

I gape open-mouthed at him for a second. “How do you know about that?”

The infuriating shithead just shrugs a shoulder. “There’s more than enough to cover what you’ll miss out on tonight.”

I have to force my lip not to curl back in an angry snarl, and instead, I try to suck in a deep, calming breath. “That’s supposed to be for a rainy day. If there’s an emergency or something.”

He glances out the grimy window at the gloomy sky above us. Droplets of rain splash against the pane, leaving water marks as they trail down it. “Looks like a rainy day to me.”

I roll my eyes, even as I huff out a chuckle. “Fine, I’ll stay home today, but I have to go in tomorrow.”

His face lights up with a grin, and it brings a rare smile to my own lips. “Pajama and movie day, like old times.” His eyes flash with excitement as he dumps his bowl in the sink and drops onto the sofa, channel surfing until he finds something he likes.

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