Page 6 of Rebel Heart

The ground suddenly rushed up toward me.

I was going down and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

“Well, fuck.” The man scooped me up before I could hit the dirt.

He held me to his chest tightly, one arm beneath my shoulders, the other under my knees. I wasn’t a small woman. I’d put on a lot of weight during my pregnancy and I hadn’t been skinny to start with, but he lifted me like I weighed nothing.

I was completely powerless to stop him. I bashed my twig at his arm but even I could tell how feeble my attempts were.

More people appeared in the little clearing. Rebel, as well as the other guys from the car. Her gaze fixated on me, and relief fueled her expression before she focused on the man holding me. She wrinkled her nose for the tiniest of seconds.

The man gripped me tighter. Like a dog with a bone he didn’t want to give up.

I didn’t have it in me to fight anymore. All I could do was concentrate on not passing out.

“You looking for this?” the man asked my sister.

This. Like I wasn’t even a person. Just an item to be owned. I hated that. I found another burst of energy and struggled in his arms, but it didn’t last long. The fuzziness clouding my brain made movement difficult.

Rebel nodded. “Thanks, Hawk. She’s my sister.”

“Why don’t any of you people have normal names?” I asked groggily. “Hawk. Fang. Chaos.”

They all looked sharply at me.

“Chaos?” Hawk asked. “As in Hayden ‘Chaos’ Whitling, leader of the Sinners?” He stared at Rebel; his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What the fuck, short-ass? You brought us a Sinners’s slut? She here fishing for club secrets?”

Rebel’s eyes blazed as she stormed across the clearing to square off with him. “Don’t you ever call my sister a slut again. If you weren’t holding her, I’d punch you right in the nose.”

He snorted, striding past her. “Like you could reach.”

I could though. I was so sick of men calling me names. Throwing their weight around, making demands from me. I closed my fingers into a fist and used the last of my energy to connect it with Hawk’s nose.

The last thing I heard before I passed out was a satisfying squawk of pain.

Hawk squawks.

Funny.

3

REBEL

Hawk carried my sister’s limp body back to the clubhouse and put her down on one of the old brown couches that held many a memory for me. Ones that were a lot more fun than watching my unconscious sibling get her head laceration sewn up by an angry biker with tissues shoved up his nose because it wouldn’t stop bleeding.

If I hadn’t been so worried about her, I would have laughed at the sight.

When she woke up, I would high-five Kara for right-hooking Hawk. He was an arrogant asshole, and he’d deserved to get hit.

I would have never picked Kara as the type though.

I’d assumed she’d be as sweet and innocent as my other sisters had been. But Caleb had a way of sucking anything good out of anyone he touched. Losing her baby the way she had would change anyone.

I couldn’t even imagine.

“Is she going to be okay?” I asked Hawk.

A lot of the other club members crowded around, watching him work, but Queenie shooed them back, keeping them at a distance. Hawk sewed neat stitches into my sister’s scalp, War watching on with a frown, insisting Hawk do some over again if they weren’t up to his standards. Kian stood off to one side, green from watching the needle pierce through Kara’s skin.

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