Page 33 of Rebel Revenge

“There’s more that needs to be discussed than just your mother’s autopsy report.”

“Like what?”

“Like why you left the scene of a crime without talking to police, perhaps?”

I ground my molars. Fuck the Providence police. This was what they were always like. Fucking assholes. I was not in the mood for it.

Apparently, he didn’t like my silence, because I hadn’t even gotten a chance to reply when he barked down the line again. “This is a very serious matter, young lady. So wherever you are right now, it would be best if you changed course and drove immediately to the station.”

I blinked at Bliss.

“What?” she whispered.

“He’s demanding I go down to the station. He just young ladyed me.”

“Oh, hell no.” Bliss knew exactly how I felt about men who liked to throw their weight around. “Condescending prick.”

“Miss Kemp? I’ll expect you here in the next fifteen minutes then, shall I?”

I snorted. “No, Detective Richardson. You shall not.”

He huffed out an annoyed breath. “You’ve been given a direct instruction by a police officer. So I would inquire as to why you think you can ignore it?”

Oh, this guy was really starting to piss me off. Which, frankly, felt nice because it didn’t come with the desire to cry.

I felt a lot more like my old, sassy self when I replied, “Because I’m currently not wearing any panties, and I don’t think I’m in the mood for a Sharon Stone, Basic Instinct replay, even if I do have the cutest little snatch around. Pity for you, you’d cream yourself over it.”

Bliss turned to me with huge eyes. “You did not just say that.”

I shrugged and made no attempt to cover the phone. “He was pissing me off.” But then I went back to Detective Dickhead, who was spluttering down the line.

I rolled my eyes. “Relax. I’ll come down to the station, Richards. No need to get your knickers…or lack of, in my case, in a knot. Learn some manners though, would you?”

I ended the call and tossed the phone down where I’d found it.

Bliss took a corner, shaking her head with quiet laughter. “You amaze me.”

I yawned and looked at the car clock. “Is that time right? Is it seriously nine?”

Bliss nodded. “War wanted me to wait ’til ten to go over to the clubhouse to find you, but at eight I couldn’t wait anymore. I wish you’d come back to our place last night.”

But I couldn’t have. I couldn’t deflect any of my friends off with cuddling the way I had with Fang. And Bliss’s men were just as dangerous, if not more so. If you caught Vincent on a bad day, he was nothing less than a completely psychotic killer. He loved Bliss—and me, by law of the best friend code—so normally I just found him amusing. But he wouldn’t hesitate to take the one thing I truly needed.

Caleb’s head on a stick.

It needed to be mine.

“Can we get coffee?” I asked. “My head is fuzzy…” With murderous thoughts. I wasn’t sure coffee would truly help, but it couldn’t hurt.

She pulled over at the Starbucks on the Saint View-Providence border, and I graciously waited in the car to spare the rest of the customers my panty-free, oversized T-shirt getup. The time ticked on, my headache growing with every second that passed, until Bliss finally emerged, holding two huge cups.

When she was back in the car, I took one from her gratefully, and then we were back on the road to my apartment. It was odd to see kids playing in the communal area, like their entire worlds hadn’t been ripped to shreds in the space of seven days. I hoped they never had to feel the way I did, with shit piling on top of shit.

But these were kids from the wrong side of the tracks, just like I was.

So their lives were hardly charmed. Violence and poverty and death would be what they grew up with.

All the more reason to never have kids ,if you asked me.

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