Page 57 of Rebel Obsession

Leonn put the coffee down on the roof of the car so he could beep the locks. He was busy tossing papers into the passenger seat when he paused and pulled the photos off his windshield.

I leaned forward, barely breathing, desperate to see his reaction.

Leonn stared down at the images and dropped them quickly, as if they’d been on fire.

Kian shook his head. “What did you write on them?”

I shrugged. “Just a small reminder that he could turn himself into the cops with a full admission of the things he and his friends had done, or this was just the beginning.”

Leonn clearly realized he couldn’t leave the incriminating photos in the middle of his driveway for his entire family to find. He bent to retrieve them and shoved them into his car with a vicious thrust.

Then he looked around, left to right, his gaze finally coming to settle on my car. He froze.

I didn’t. I’d been waiting for my moment.

I rolled the window down. Made sure Leonn had a good, clear look at my face. Then waved.

I was sure I could see the blood draining from his rosy cheeks, even from this distance.

Fuck if it wasn’t the most satisfying thing I’d done in weeks.

I turned the car on and drove away.

Kian sat back and let out a low whistle. “He just shit his pants. That was great.”

I glanced over at him. “You up for round two? Because I know Hugh’s address too.”

He leaned over and kissed me softly. “I’m up. Just watching you take back your power is hot.”

I kissed him back, feeling it too. Power was everything.

In that moment, I could almost understand why Caleb got off on it.

14

REBEL

Fueled by the tiny reign of terror I’d started the day before; I got up by eight and snuck downstairs into the den Bart had used as an office. His laptop sat in the middle of a big, solid wood desk. I sat my ass down in a chair that was much too big for me and powered up the computer.

While it was going through its start-up process, I helped myself to the bottle of scotch I found in the second desk drawer. What I wanted to do down here felt like it needed a bit of Dutch courage. Even if it was for breakfast.

I was pleasantly surprised to find Bart’s computer didn’t require a password. But emotion hit me in the gut when the background image loaded and it was a picture of him and my mom on a beach, their hair windswept, but their smiles happy.

“You really loved him, huh, Mom?” I whispered, tracing a finger over her face. I was glad she’d finally found a man who’d loved her for who she was. I was just sorry she hadn’t found it earlier.

I wondered if she’d approve of what I was about to do. A huge yes instantly sounded in my head, which was comforting, even if it was just my own subconscious telling me things I wanted to hear.

I poked around Bart’s computer but found nothing of interest. Just a lot of boring files and spreadsheets with his company logo on them. I wasn’t surprised. I doubted anyone who didn’t password protect their laptop had anything to hide.

Everything about Bart screamed of him being an honest, genuinely decent guy.

“Sorry to defile your computer with my darkness, Bart,” I muttered, opening a word processing program and cranking the font size up to one hundred. “Real freaking sorry. But this needs to be done.”

I opened a web browser and went searching for what I needed.

Caleb was easy. His portrait was on the front page of his website. “Ugh, could you be any more all-American? You just need a football under your arm, you fake.”

I swore to never trust a man with such perfect teeth ever again.

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