Page 6 of Rebel Revenge

But not Fang. I couldn’t be near him right now. His rejection had caused me way too much pain.

Mom cheered and threw herself at me in another tackle hug, holding on for longer than necessary, squeezing me tight. She pressed her face into my shoulder and mumbled, “You’re going to be okay, baby. I promise.”

She couldn’t promise that. No one could.

She pulled back and pushed to her feet. “Well, now that all of that is settled, I need to get a move on. I’ve got a dress fitting, cake testing, a meeting with the judge who’ll be marrying us since we need them to open the court on a Saturday. All the things!” She trotted toward the door in her high heels, before she paused to look back at me. “Oh! And we’re having a dinner on Friday night at the hotel restaurant. So you can meet Bart. He wants to meet his new daughter before the day of the wedding. You’ll be there, right?”

I’d never been any man’s daughter and I wasn’t about to start being Bart’s, not at twenty-nine. But I didn’t need to poop on my mother’s parade either. “Fine. I’ll come.”

She kissed my cheek. “Thank you. Truly, baby. You’re gonna like this one.”

It was the kiss of death, those five little words. Because every other time in my life she’d said them, it ended in her back on that bathroom floor, crying her eyes out, while I picked up the pieces.

But today she’d said it with such hope in her voice that I couldn’t let her down.

So all I did was smile and nod and promise to meet my new daddy. Whoop-de-fucking-do.

2

FANG

By night, Psychos was an underground sex club filled with erotic displays of kinks that would blow the average person’s mind.

But by day, Psychos was a dive. A bar with sticky floors, ripped pool tables, and that damn clown with sharp teeth painted on the wall in terrifying detail.

I fucking hated that clown. A cold sweat broke out across the back of my neck every time I passed it. If I’d had it my way, I never would have stepped foot inside the premises with that thing staring at me the entire time.

There was only one thing that got me here day and night, and it sure as fuck wasn’t the cheap beer. I was sure people thought I had a drinking problem. Or hell, maybe a sex addiction.

Rebel was the only addiction I couldn’t fucking quit. I had no idea what it was about that little fairylike woman. She’d just shown up here one day, already acting like she owned the place. She’d rocked around in her short, pleated skirt and cropped midriff top, serving drinks to me and the boys from my MC. Her hair all wild, her eyes dark-rimmed with liner. She’d walked right up to me, leaned forward so her barely-there tits were in my face, and asked me if I was going home with anyone that night.

I’d been shocked speechless, while the guys around me had hooted and hollered, banging their heavy beer mugs on the wooden tabletop.

Rebel had smiled quietly and winked at me. “Even if you are going home with someone, I’d be interested in joining in.”

Heat flushed my face even now, just thinking about that night. She’d never been scared of me the way other women were. I knew I was nothing special to look at. I could fuck a club slut if I wanted to just get my dick wet, they wouldn’t say no. But I never had. I saw the way they feared me. The terror in their eyes as they took in my size, my scars, my tattoos.

I didn’t want a woman too scared to enjoy herself when she was in my bed.

But Rebel had never been like that. She’d never had any qualms about letting me between her thighs so I could make her come. Or climbing my body and riding my cock like she owned it.

I looked around the club for her now, gaze skimming past the naked women, couples having sex, or groups with their hands all over each other. Moans of pleasure filtered through the deeply sexy music pouring from the club’s speakers, and performers on stages writhed in various stages of undress or foreplay.

None of it did anything for me. It never did.

It was only ever her.

Nash, one of the club’s owners strode by, in a hurry to get somewhere.

“Hey.” I reached out and grabbed his arm.

He stopped and offered me his hand. “How’s it going, Fang? Where you been all week? We’ve missed you around here.”

I shrugged. “One of our sister chapters out in Florida needed some help with damage from a storm. Seemed like a good reason to take a beach break.”

Nash raised an eyebrow. “It’s nearly winter.”

“Not in Florida. Place is hot all the fucking time.”

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