Page 55 of Rescuing Rebel

“Was this your plan all along?” I snarl through gritted teeth. “Seduce me, gather Guardian secrets, then disappear? Have you been working for Haven all along?”

“You know nothing about me or my reasons for being here, but you must leave.” She chokes out the words, clawing at my arm. There’s real panic in her voice.

True fear in her eyes.

I release pressure on her throat and allow her to take a strangled breath.

She’s been in worse spots than this. I should know, considering I freed her from the inside of a cell.

“Then explain it to me,” I demand, putting more pressure on her windpipe. She grimaces but stays defiantly silent. There’s a weariness in her eyes; a flicker of doubt flares within me.

With effort, I ease the pressure on her throat. She massages it gingerly but doesn’t break my gaze.

“Talk to me,” I rasp. “Make me understand. What are you doing here?” I sweep my arm out, gesturing toward the door. I expect fiery denial, reflexive anger—anything but the hollow laugh that falls from her ruby lips.

“You have to leave.”

“You’re a broken record, Rebel, but I’m not leaving until you answer my questions.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” She shakes her head, an undercurrent of bitterness in her voice. “This is so much bigger than you can imagine.”

“Bigger?” The color red creeps into the edges of my vision. Anger burns in my veins. I slam her against the wall again. Only, this time, my fingers tighten around her delicate throat. “Help me understand.” I clench my jaw and grit my teeth. “Make me see how the innocent woman I pulled out of a filthy cell became this monster.”

My gut twists even as I spit the words at her. Because despite the truth standing in front of me, a part of me still clings to the memory of that night we spent on the beach.

Her emerald eyes flash, but she says nothing. The pulse in her throat taps rapidly under my fingertips.

“Talk to me, damn it.” I slam my other fist against the wall by her head.

She flinches but lifts her chin. “You think you know me, but the woman you’re looking for died long ago. I don’t owe you an explanation except to say this: you ruined things for me once. That’s not happening again. You need to leave. Leave before I force the issue.”

Her words land like physical blows, but under the bitterness lies a current of deep sorrow that gives me hope. Something shifts in her gaze. For a fleeting moment, the hard mask slips, and a glimmer of the Rebel I know—the one who trusted me, needed me—still remains.

Then, she viciously slams the tip of her stiletto on my foot. I recoil with a pained grunt, grip loosening. In a heartbeat, she spins me and slams me roughly to the wall, arm barred tight across my shoulders.

Her warm breath feathers across my ear as she pins me in place. “You judge without knowing who I am or why I’m here. Is your team with you?”

I don’t answer, but there’s no need. She reads my answer easily enough.

“Shit, you have to get them out of here. It’s not safe.” Her words sink like stones in my gut.

“What the hell have you gotten into? I can help.” Despite everything, my innate need to protect and defend runs too deep. “Talk to me.” I shift against her hold, but she’s like steel. “Tell me what’s going on. Why are you here?”

“You want the truth?” Her voice trembles with barely repressed emotion. “I’m in too deep to be saved. Do yourself a favor and walk away.”

There’s an unspoken plea behind the bitterness, and then footsteps sound down the hall.

Anger roars through me. I pivot swiftly, reversing our positions, pinning her body against the rough concrete wall. My hand fists tightly in her hair, eliciting a wince.

My lips crush desperately against hers before she can respond, seeking answers, seeking the woman I thought I knew.

I expect her to slap me. To shove me away in disgust. Instead, her mouth melts into mine for one searing moment, returning the kiss with an intensity that ignites every nerve in my body. In that electrified instant, nothing exists but the two of us tangled together in the dark, breaths quickening, heartbeats syncing as one.

But just as quickly, she turns her face away, breaking the spell. We stand frozen for a suspended moment, shaken to our cores. Her curves press tightly against me, warm and vital, as my pulse hammers deafeningly loud in my ears.

The Rebel I care about still lives inside this callous exterior she portrays.

“Let me go,” she says.

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