Rebel Revenge (Saint View Rebels Book 1)
Rebel Revenge: Chapter 14

I paced my room at the clubhouse like a caged lion. Up and down. Back and forth, wearing a hole in the already thin carpet. The moment I heard War’s voice drift back from the common room, I was out there, storming right up to him, not caring I was interrupting his conversation.

“Prez,” I bit out, voice hoarse. “I need to talk to you.”

War slid his gaze from Hawk, our VP, to me. Slowly, he raised an eyebrow.

I understood why. It wasn’t like me to make demands on him. I never spoke out of turn, if I ever spoke at all. That wasn’t my place. I’d pledged complete and undying allegiance to this club, and to me, that meant not questioning its leadership.

If War said jump, my only question was how high.

“It important?” War asked.

It was to me. “Yes.”

He gave me a nod, then turned to Hawk. “Give us a minute?”

Hawk frowned, not used to being dismissed in favor of a lower ranking member, but he eventually shuffled toward the bar. “Need a drink anyway.”

Didn’t we all. Except I couldn’t afford to not be one-hundred-percent mentally focused right now. So drinking was off the table until I’d done what needed to be done.

War folded his arms across his broad chest. “Okay. You have my attention. What is it?”

“Has Bliss told you who hurt Rebel?”

He shook his head. “No. You’d be the first person I’d tell if I knew, brother. Vincent, Nash, and I are all itching to know too. The minute we do, we’re on our way to the asshole’s house to take care of business.”

I cracked my knuckles. It wasn’t enough to calm the restless ache inside me that stemmed from knowing someone had hurt my woman and gotten away with it. “I need to know,” I said hoarsely. “It’s fucking killing me.”

War slapped a beefy hand on my shoulder. “I know, brother. I know. But until she tells us their names, there’s nothing we can do.”

“I need a job,” I practically begged. “I can’t hang around here, just sitting on my damn hands. I want to start a fight with every person who even looks my way. I can’t take it. I’m scared I’m gonna hurt someone I care about. Or that my head is going to fucking explode.”

War’s sympathy was palpable. “I know how you feel. I was the same when it was Bliss in that situation. But we have nothing on right now. Just gotta sit tight ’til something comes up.”

I couldn’t do that. “What about your old man’s murder?”

Someone had hired a hitman to take out War’s parents. His mom had made it, but his father hadn’t been so lucky. We’d found out who the hitman was, but that wasn’t who we cared about. The person who’d ordered the hit was who needed to go down.

War patted my arm. “That time is coming. Trust me, when it does, you’ll be the first man by my side. But until then, fuck, bro. You need to replace somewhere else to channel that aggression. Don’t go starting shit here, you know I ain’t got no patience for brothers fighting brothers. Take it somewhere else.”

He was right. I nodded obediently.

War gave me a half-smile. “Go get laid or something. Rebel ain’t the only one around here willing to ride your horse-sized cock. Any of the girls would be happy for a round.”

But that wasn’t true. The girls who hung around the clubhouse generally were up for it, and were often seen draped over the laps of the other guys, or bouncing on their cocks for the rest of us to watch.

But I saw the way they stared at me when I entered a room. Like everywhere else, they feared me too. Some flinched away. Others averted their eyes, hoping I wouldn’t notice them. I got it. I was huge, with a face only a mother could love, and mine hadn’t even done that.

I didn’t want a woman who was scared of me.

I just wanted the pixie who had never looked at me in any way other than with pure desire.

Being the center of Rebel’s attention was addictive. Once you’d had a taste, there was no going back. No other woman’s gaze felt the same.

There was no going to get laid unless it was Rebel’s sweet body writhing beneath me.

Since that wasn’t in the cards, the only other thing was violence.

I stalked outside to my bike, shoved on my helmet, and gunned the engine. It roared to life beneath me, vibrating through my bones in a way that normally settled my nerves but today only made them worse.

The tires kicked up rocks as I slammed my hand on the accelerator and shot out of the compound. Woods surrounded me on both sides, until I came out on the road that led up to the bluff. I steered away from it, though, taking the turnoff into Saint View.

I didn’t need pretty views tonight. I needed the rough, underbelly of the ghetto and the people who called it home. I passed Psychos, searching the parking lot for Rebel’s junk bucket of a car. But it wasn’t there. Which lined up with War saying she wouldn’t be back at work until next week.

The last time I’d seen her there, I’d left, jealous over her talking with another man. The memory played over in my head while I drove, getting clearer and clearer with every mile that passed beneath my tires.

The realization jolted, and I took my hand off the accelerator, letting the bike slow. Had it been him? The pretty boy sitting at the end of the bar while she worked, looking completely out of place in a Saint View dive?

Bile rolled around in my stomach.

No.

It couldn’t be. Because if it was, her attack was my fault.

I should have stayed. Should have watched over her.

Instead, I’d left in a jealous funk, like I had any right.

That urge to use my fists flooded me once more. If there’d been a wall to punch, I probably would have, just so the feeling had somewhere to go. “Fuck!” I bellowed into the night; the word whipped away by the rushing wind. I pushed the bike as hard as I dared, only one destination in mind now.

On the edge of town, the Dark Demon Boxing Gym sat surrounded by industrial buildings. By day, the place bustled with a mixture of businesses, but come closing time, the entire place emptied out.

Except for fight nights. They weren’t officially hosted by the Dark Demon, but seeing as the fights took place in their parking lot, and apart from a service station around the corner, they were always the only building with lights on, some liked to call it Demon night.

Like always, the cars parked in a large circle, leaving their headlights on so they all shined into the center of a makeshift ring. I parked my bike on the outskirts and pulled my helmet off but sat there for a minute, checking out who else was here.

People milled around everywhere, loud music pumping from someone’s car stereo. At one end of the lot, a guy took bets on the first matchup—two guys, both stripped of their shirts, and warming up in the circle of car headlights.

There was a carnival vibe to the gathering, with a lot of laughter and shouts of greeting when people recognized their friends.

Through the crowd, a tiny woman appeared, and I did a double take, squinting through the groups of people. She disappeared, but I was on my feet anyway, storming through the crowd, not knowing if I’d seen her because she was there or just because she was on my mind twenty-four seven.

“Rebel,” I barked out, spotting the dark-haired woman again. I scrubbed my eyes, really not sure if I was seeing things. There was no reason she should be here. I’d never seen her at a fight before. She’d never mentioned going.

But then again, I’d never told her I went to them either.

I reached for the woman’s arm, only to have a man step in front of me and growl, “I wouldn’t.”

I backed off. “Sorry. I didn’t know she was your girl. I thought she was someone else.”

The woman turned around. Her eyes went big. “Fang? What are you doing here?”

There was no mistaking her now. Or the way my heartbeat went into overdrive just from being in her presence. I glanced at the guy she was with, the one who’d defended her.

Not the guy from the bar that night. He was vaguely familiar. I was pretty sure I’d seen him here on other occasions, but never with Rebel before.

Jealousy surged again, but unlike that night at the bar, where I’d walked out, this time, I wasn’t letting it get the better of me. I wasn’t moving. I wasn’t going anywhere. Not without her.

“You know him?” the guy and I both asked Pix at the same time.

I ground my molars at the familiar way he talked to her. I didn’t like it.

She rolled her eyes at our standoff. “Okay, cool your testosterone-filled tits, you two. I know you both. Kian, this is Fang. A friend of mine from the Slayers MC.”

Friend.

I fucking hated that word. She’d never been just a friend from my point of view. It wasn’t what I wanted from her. It barely even scratched the surface of the things I craved from that woman.

“Fang, this is Kian. My new roommate.”

My gaze whirled from Kian to my tiny pixie. “Your what?”

“Roommate. I moved into his house today.”

“The fuck?” I’d heard her, I just didn’t fucking want to have. “You just moved in with some guy? Do you even know him? Or is he just some perverted creep who advertises his room for rent and only accepts women he wants to fuck?”

Kian’s mouth pulled into a tight line.

The guy was big, but so was I.

She folded her arms beneath her tits and glared at me. “Honestly, sometimes I really wish I was into women. It would be so much easier. Kian didn’t advertise for a roommate. It’s a long story. But while you’re pissed, you may as well know, there’s also another guy living there. Vaughn. You met him outside the courthouse the other day.”

I stared at her blankly. All I remembered about the courthouse was getting to her, taking her home, making sure she was safe.

“He introduced himself as my brother?”

A lightbulb clicked in my head. “That jackass?”

Kian grumbled. “Watch yourself. I’m the only one allowed to call him names. Even if they are true.”

It didn’t matter anyway. I wasn’t interested in this guy or any other. “What are you doing here?” I asked Rebel. “It’s not safe.”

She glanced between me and Kian, both of us towering over her. “Oh, I think I’m about as safe as it gets right here. Kian brought me to watch him fight.”

Kian stretched his arms over his head and twisted to crack his neck. “Actually, I brought you to see if you wanted to fight.”

Her eyes went big. “What?”

The growl from my chest was completely feral. “Over my dead body.”

Rebel took a step toward me. “I’m kinda with Fang on this one. I can’t fight at something like this. Have you seen me? I’ll die.”

I practically crowed with victory

Kian folded his arms across his chest. “I didn’t mean fight tonight. But you just told me you’re scrappy. And that you’ve got some wrongs to right. Maybe this is where you get your confidence back.”

“No,” I spit out.

Rebel squinted up at me. “Did you just speak for me?”

I bit my lip, knowing I had and that she was rightfully putting me in my place. But fuck. I could not stand here and watch her fight. I’d seen the women who came to these things. They weren’t just scrappy. They were brutal and not above cheating. Not that there were really any rules to these matches, other than respecting when the other person conceded.

I never wanted to cut her wings.

But I didn’t know how to support her getting hurt either.

Pix was tiny, and everything in my body screamed protect her.

It had since the very moment I’d laid eyes on her.

She turned to Kian. “I’m not fighting. I’m not trained.”

“Then let me train you.”

“I’ll train you,” I said quickly. I knew exactly how physical fighters got with their trainers, and the thought of this guy all over Rebel had my fingers unconsciously clenching into fists.

She shook her head. “It’s a yes to the training, but you can’t both do it.”

Kian glanced at me and then jerked his head toward the ring. “Up for it? The better fighter trains her.”

Rebel’s eyes went wide, and she put her hands up in a stop motion. “Whoa. No. That’s not what I meant.”

Kian’s eye held a challenging gleam.

Like spoke to like. He was as keen for a fight as I was. I needed the pain. Needed to hurt for what I’d done. Even if it meant Kian winning and being the one to train her. I stuck my hand out. “Deal.”

He grinned at me. “I like you more already. May the best man win.”

“Wait, wait!” Rebel jumped in between us. “You can’t fight each other. Fight someone else, whatever, but I don’t know who to cheer for if you’re both in the ring. What if you get hurt?”

“I won’t,” we both said in unison.

Even I almost smiled at that one. Because he would.

I would too, but I would welcome it. The sting of a punch in the face was a whole lot better than the stabbing reminder that she’d been hurt because of me.

Kian waved to the guy who organized the fights. “Joe. Me and Leather Jacket here. Yeah?”

Joe’s gaze slid to me. “You up for it, Fang?”

I nodded.

Joe pointed over at the ring. “Get ready then. You’re up next.”

I cracked my knuckles in anticipation.

Kian put his hand on the small of Rebel’s back, and it took everything in me not to rip it right off. But she didn’t seem to mind.

“Let’s replace you someone to stand with,” Kian said. “I’m not leaving you here on the sidelines alone.”

Sometimes other guys from my club were here, but I hadn’t noticed any of their bikes. They were probably all hanging out at the clubhouse, choosing beers and sex over getting their asses kicked.

I didn’t plan on getting my ass kicked. But I was in agreement with Rebel not standing alone. Once I was in that ring, my concentration needed to be fully on my opponent. I couldn’t be watching out for her as well.

Kian jerked his head at another guy. “There. Colt!”

He guided Rebel through the crowd, and I followed close behind, not willing to let her out of my sight.

A younger guy spun around and nodded at Kian in return. The two shook hands when they got close enough.

Colt indicated to the people he was standing with. “Have you met my family? That’s Banjo, and Rafe. And this”—he pulled a dark-haired woman tight beneath his arm—“is Lacey.”

“Nice to meet you,” Lacey said with a warm smile.

Kian held a hand out to her. “Kian. This is Rebel.”

“And that’s Fang, hovering behind me,” Rebel chipped in.

Colt glanced at me. “Good to see you, man. I remember you from back when I used to fight. Haven’t seen you fight for a while. I don’t get out here much anymore now we have a little one at home.”

I didn’t remember him, but I shook his hand and grunted a reply at him.

Lacey stared at Rebel. “Have we met before?” Her eyes widened. “Oh, wait, I know. You work at Psychos, right? My friend, Bliss, owns the place.”

Rebel smiled. “It’s my home away from home. And if you’re a friend of Bliss’s then you’re a friend of mine. Mind if I stand with you guys? Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber here want to kill each other in the ring, and I’d prefer not to get covered with their caveman blood.”

Lacey laughed. “Ah, yes. I know all about that with these three.”

All three guys frowned at her, but she waved them off and linked her arm through Rebel’s. “Come on, I’ll show you where the spatter-free zone is.”

She dragged Rebel off, and Lacey’s guys followed after.

Colt tossed us a glance. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on them. I might not have been fighting lately, but working at the prison keeps me on my toes. I got it.”

Kian and I both nodded.

He eyed me. “Ready? These guys seem just about done.”

We both looked into the ring right as Joe lifted the arm of a man with a bleeding nose, declaring him the winner. He let it drop then called out, “Kian. Fang. You’re up.”

Kian pulled off his T-shirt, dropping it onto the hood of the nearest car.

I shrugged out of my jacket and then my shirt, leaving us both bare chested, in jeans and boots. Not ideal fighting attire, but these fights were really all about boxing, so it didn’t matter too much our legs were restricted by unforgiving denim.

Kian and I both entered the ring, and a cheer went up from the crowd.

“May the best man win,” Kian said with a grin.

The words hit me right in the chest. I wasn’t the best man. The best man wouldn’t have let his girl get hurt on his watch.

Right then and there, I gave up any intention of winning.