Captured: A Bad Boy Biker Romance by Honey Palomino (20)

When Harley told me he invited Rebel, I was tortured with thoughts of her. If there was a vice I could put my dick in to get through the night without fucking her, I would have.

But it was no use, and I knew it. Now that she was in my thoughts, in my consciousness, hell - in my fucking nostrils, considering I couldn’t stop smelling her in every room of my house - my cock had been standing as hard and tall as a fucking mountain twenty-four hours a fucking day.

It was pure torture, and I was tempted to skip the party all-together. But I would catch so much shit from the other guys, and I couldn’t get in the habit of avoiding things just because Rebel was there.

I would have to learn to live with it. With her. With this constant stupid fucking erection.

When I saw her standing across the parking lot, her black hair pinned up on her head, bright red lipstick smeared across her lips and her body covered in nothing but that damned bikini top and denim skirt again, I knew it was going to be one very fucking long night.

“Sorry, chief,” Harley said behind me as I walked into the clubhouse, headed straight for the closest whiskey bottle.

“What?” I turned around, confused.

“For Rebel. I tried to get her to cover up, to wear something a little…more substantial…but she’s fucking nineteen, and she either doesn’t realize the effect she has on men, or she just doesn’t care.”

“She fucking knows,” I replied, practically growling in agony. “And she fucking loves it.”

“Yeah…” Harley followed me to the bar. “I guess you’re right.”

“I gave her the bike,” he said quietly as he sat next to me at the bar while we waited for Hairy Joe to pour our whiskey.

His words jarred me, I had forgotten about that bike long ago.

“The bike? Her bike? The red Harley?” I asked, incredulously.

“Yep.”

His brevity told me discussion was not an option on this topic, so I just nodded my head slowly as I devoured my first shot of many.

“You ready for tomorrow?” I asked somberly. We might have been partying tonight, but our duties tomorrow were no joke. We all took our business seriously.

“More than ready to show these cartel cunts that we are not a club they want to betray, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah, me too. Fuck them.” Our loyalty to the club rang loud and true, and I knew we both found some comfort in that fact.

“Yeah, but listen. Tonight, we celebrate Maverick. He’s a righteous dude, and he deserves a good party. Let’s let loose a little and have a good time.”

“You got it, boss,” I replied, the fifth shot of the day going down like butter.

“There’s a lot of women here tonight. Maverick insisted he get at least three of them, so make sure you save some for him.” Harley winked at me as he walked away, leaving me at the bar alone.

I watched the party in full-swing through the garage doors, the band playing loud rock music, the girls dancing in front of the stage, each of them holding a bottle of liquor in their hands, and circling around Maverick like vultures around a dead crow. And there was Rebel, right in the middle of the action. Looking like she belonged and completely out of place all at the same time.

She was so damned young and naive, and as I watched all the other men leering at her, the familiar feeling of wanting to rescue her filled my veins. And there was something else I wasn’t used to. Jealousy.

Ignoring it, I took three more shots before I walked out the door to join the party. As soon as my boots hit the pavement, Rebel spotted me and made a bee-line right for me.

Fuck.

As I swayed in front of her, she looked up at me, all innocence and sexuality, and I realized that if I wanted to keep my guard up, then drinking eight shots of whiskey was probably not the best idea. I could think of nothing else but ripping that top off of her and bending her over my bike again.

“Hey…” she smiled up at me, purposefully jutting out her tits, and rubbing them against my arm as she placed a hand on my chest.

“Hey, Rebel.” I tried, I really did, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her mouth. I watched it move, remembered the feel of it beneath my own lips, the softness, the way she melted into me, and I licked my lips, staring at her speechless.

“Will you dance with me, Mason? I’m tired of dancing with the other girls.” She ran her hand up and down my chest, pleading with me with those damned eyes of hers. “Pleassssssse?”

“No.” Abruptly, I grabbed her hand, and removing it from my chest, I dropped it and walked away from her, leaving her standing on the side of the stage all alone.

I knew I hurt her, but what the fuck was I supposed to do? If I put one hand on her, not only would Harley kill me, but if my cock swelled any bigger it would explode, and I would surely die from blood loss.

Was Rebel’s pussy worth dying over?

It was a fact I would debate with myself over and over the rest of the evening.

I avoided her as much as I could, watching her from a distance when I got curious what she was doing. The moments of having her out of my sight were a welcome relief, and pure torture at the same time. I was damned if I did, and damned if I didn’t, and if I didn’t find some relief soon, I was going to explode.

Women. Fucking women. No woman had ever gotten to me like this, and I was doing my damnedest to convince myself that the only reason I felt this way about Rebel was because I had known her so long, because I felt responsible for her in some way, because I felt this ridiculous macho need to save her.

I knew what I needed to do, and the best thing to do was to do it quickly.

I nodded to Becky, one of the regular club girls, a tall, lanky red-head with a great ass. She walked over to me, hell she strutted over to me, her short black dress and leopard print pumps practically begging me to fuck her before she stopped short in front of me.

I looked down at her, then looked over at Rebel dancing uninhibitedly, with not a care in the world, looking like some young, innocent starlet. I grabbed Becky by the arm, pulling her along with me, and down the hall to the club bedroom. Hopefully, nobody else was in there.

We were in luck. I shut the door behind us quickly, desperate for some sort of release, some quick moment of reprieve from thinking about Rebel.

“Hey, Mason…” Becky knew the drill. She pulled off her dress quickly, standing bare naked in front of me, nothing but her tall heels and her diamond earrings adorning her perfect body. Her long red hair flowed down her back, reaching all the way to her amazing ass.

“Hey Becky, how you doing tonight, darling?” I asked.

She smiled her most beguiling smile at me, her body just as tightly wound as mine.

“I’m better now, Mason…” her voice trailed off as she walked closer to me.

Small talk was bullshit. I had one mission here, and I needed to complete it as efficiently as possible.

“Bend over the bed,” I commanded gruffly.

Becky obeyed me like a puppy. She placed her hands on the bed, her ass pushed up at me invitingly as she wiggled it.

She was magnificent. Young, fresh, with smooth, flawless, creamy skin. She was a masterpiece in a shit show.

I quickly undressed, and standing behind her, I grabbed her red hair, wrapping it around my fist, and pulled her head back towards me. My cock had been hard for days and yet as soon as I entered her, it softened.

“Fuck!” I yelled, as visions of Rebel’s face flashed in my head. “You gotta be fucking kidding me!”

Becky turned to look up at me, wiggling her ass at me again.

“You okay, darlin’?” she drawled.

“Shit. Yeah, sorry Becky, this ain’t fucking happening after all.”

She stood up, pressed her red lips to mine quickly and smiled.

“No problem, Mason,” she shrugged. “It happens. You’ve had a lot to drink.”

“Yeah, I guess…” I mumbled. This shit never happened to me, no matter how much I drank. No, this had nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with a rebellious hellion of a woman.

I gave Becky a hug, and just as I was regaining my thoughts, I heard the loud slam of the door behind us. I turned quickly, catching the sight of black hair before the door closed and the sound of footsteps running down the hall filled my ears.

Fuck!

It had to be Rebel, and the last thing she needed to see was me in a naked embrace with Becky.

I dressed, gave Becky a quick kiss, and ran down the hall after Rebel.

But she was nowhere to be found. After five minutes of looking around, I gave up and returned to the bar, my buzz having disappeared already.

I sighed as I sat drinking from the bottle slowly and slowly smoking a joint I pulled from my pocket. Becky emerged from the back room, flashing me a sweet smile as she walked back outside.

That was not how it was supposed to be. Up until now, my life had been once easy fuck after another. Easy. Two consenting adults addressing a mutual need, and once fulfilled, going their own separate ways. No messy feelings. No disappointing relationships or expectations getting in the way. No broken hearts or yearning for better days.

Nothing lasted forever, and I wasn’t so delusional that I thought I could ever have something with Rebel. It was impossible.

It was my cock that was having a hard time believing it, as it slowly began growing again now, betraying me for a second time.

I sat there for over an hour, trying to forget everything, going over all the details regarding tomorrow in my mind, but repeatedly interrupted by flashes of Rebel.

Rebel, at twelve, learning to ride her bike, the smile that lit up her face when she finally got the hang of it and went around the block by herself the first time. Rebel, crying and trembling in fear as the cops brought her home after her first shoplifting adventure. Rebel, walking up to me that first day in the shop, pretending to be brave, pretending to be someone else, before I kissed her, before her luscious lips kissed me back.

Fuck this shit. I couldn’t just sit here bathing myself in her memory.

I needed to pee, so I stumbled to the bathroom at the end of the long hallway near the bedroom. As I approached, the door opened, and Rebel came out giggling and adjusting her clothes, followed by a very sheepish looking Maverick.

“What the fuck?” I bellowed, throwing the birthday boy up against the wall.

“Nothing happened, Mason, I swear!” I was choking him, holding him up against the wall with one hand, my other hand balled up in a fist ready to punch his teeth out.

“Wait!” Rebel screamed, trying to pull me off of him. “Nothing happened, for fuck’s sake, Mason - let him go!”

I took a deep breath, looking into Maverick’s eyes, the red I was seeing clearing from my vision.

“We were just talking, that’s all!”

I let go of Maverick, pushed him down the hall, and quickly turned to Rebel. Anger flashed in my eyes. Anger that she would go into a room alone with Maverick. Anger that she would show up at our party dressed like that. Anger that she had come back into my life the way she had, a hot mess of gorgeous woman and hot pussy that I couldn’t resist. Anger that she was the only woman in the world that my cock was responding to.

“Get in here.” I growled, grabbing her arm and pushing her into the bedroom.

I slammed the door behind us, and then pushed her up against it with my body, my cock once again fully hard and pressed up against her pussy as my lips smashed into hers.

No thoughts filled my mind. My body had one reason for living — for climbing inside Rebel and staying there.

I kissed her hard, my passion building dangerously as she melted under me, the door the only thing holding her up against my assault.

She whimpered into my mouth as my tongue twirled against hers, drawing her own passion out of her inch by inch. Reaching down, I tore myself from her lips and scooped her up, carrying her to the bed and throwing her on it. Her denim skirt rose up around her hips, revealing a thin scrap of black panty covering her mound.

I knew I should walk away, but as I gazed down at her lying there — her eyes wet with desire, licking her lips and looking up at me like she had never seen a man before — there was no turning back.

I had to have her. And I had to have her then.

“Fuck, Rebel…” I growled, our bodies drawn to each other like a couple of fireflies.

I ripped off my shirt, and laid on top of her, the feel of her warm hands sliding over my skin like electric shocks shooting to my very core. I kissed her over and over, our bodies melting together in a desperate need to be closer.

We wrapped our arms around each other, clinging to one another as our tongues collided, until I pulled back and looked down at her. Her eyes fluttered as she opened them, blinking back tears that threatened to spill down her beautiful face.

“Rebel. I can’t take this anymore,” I whispered gruffly. It was as if time stopped, the world around us stopped, there was nothing but Rebel laying under me, her arms and legs wrapped around me, her beautiful blue eyes staring up at me…and all the promises of ecstasy that every inch of her flesh tempted me with.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” I continued, watching her as I spoke. I caressed her face, my kisses covering her lips and then her eyes and then her lips again.

“I don’t know what happened, I don’t know why, and I sure as fuck don’t know how, but I need you in my life, Rebel. I need you in my arms.” I trailed kisses down her neck, her soft moans purring in my ears. “I need you in my bed…”

“Mason, oh Mason…” she murmured, arching her back up to me, silently displaying her own needs.

“I need you, too…please, now…”

“Oh, baby girl…” I looked down at her again, lying under me, the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life, and my heart swelled with love for her.

It was a curious mix, I noticed. Lust and love all rolled up together in a completely unfamiliar cocktail of uncontrollable feelings.

I didn’t want to hurt her. And yet I wanted to fuck her so hard and for so long, that it would be impossible not to.

My eyes trailed down her body, her bikini top reminding me of the first day she had shown up at the shop. My cock twitched when I remembered the feel of her tightness wrapped around me, and as I caressed her now, my lips trailing along her luscious skin, tasting her, licking her, sucking the soft flesh of her neck between my lips — I knew I would never be able to stop.

It didn’t matter that she was Harley’s sister.

It didn’t matter that she was too young.

It didn’t matter that having her in my life could be dangerous for her.

It didn’t matter that if I let her, she could rip open my heart and kill any bit of love I still possessed.

All that mattered was right here, right now — and, as she moaned and cooed under my touch in the dimly light room — that was all I could see.

Throwing all reason and caution to the wind, I untied her bikini top from around her neck, pulling the fabric down and exposing her perfect tits to my hungry eyes once again. As soon as my lips engulfed her nipple, the passion inside me exploded and I was filled with the savage hunger of a starving man.

I devoured her. Inch by luscious inch, I consumed her.

Not one spot of her flesh was safe against my assault as I licked and bit and kissed her everywhere I could reach. Roughly, I sucked her nipples into my mouth. She cried out as she pulled my head into her, her fingers sinking into my hair.

I stood up, removed my boots and jeans as quickly as I could, and then pulled her skirt off of her before I stopped to drink her in again. She smiled up at me, wiggling like a concubine trying to entice her suitor.

I wanted to go slow, I really did. But it was impossible, as I had done nothing but think of this moment for days, and all I wanted was to get inside of her, to taste her, as fast as I could. But this wasn’t just all about me, and I somehow found the strength to take a deep breath as I pulled her panties over her hips and down her thighs, before throwing them on the ground behind me.

Running my hands up and down the inside of her thighs, I delighted in the vision of her wiggling and straining under my touch. I pulled my mouth down, trailing kisses up her thighs, first one then the other, going as slow as I could find the strength to, until I reached her center. Her pussy was absolutely beautiful, and as soon as my tongue licked her clit, she cried out, her body pressing up to me, begging for more.

I dove into her delicious center, devouring her slowly at first, and then sucking her swollen clit into my mouth rhythmically. She tasted like heaven, and I moaned into her. My fingers entered her, her wetness seeping over my hand as I fucked into her soft pussy, licking and suckling at her juices as I pleasured her. The feel of her body under me was amazing, and as I slowly coaxed her pleasure from her undulating body, her moans and whimpers filled my ears, until I felt her spasming around my hand, her body clenching onto me, her hips dancing around ecstatically.

My heart filled with joy knowing I was pleasing her and as her moans quieted, she pulled me up to her face, her kisses soft and sweet as she clutched at my shoulders.

“Oh, Mason…” she cried, as I slid my hardness into her. She was so tight, so wet, and pure paradise as I rocked into her, my senses heightened and tuned into every move she made under me. Once again, I melted into her, my head lost in the pleasure of her, the pain of her, and all of it mingling together until there was no difference, it was all the same, and whatever was going on outside of this room didn’t exist, as long as we were here, as long as we were together.

All that was ever going to be, was right here in this moment.

Our bodies danced together as she met my every thrust, hers a perfect fit for mine. My passion built as she slid up and down my growing cock, the pressure so painful and yet so amazing that I didn’t want to stop, and when I felt my release rising in the pit of my stomach, I slowed down, despite the intense urge to come.

I didn’t want it to end. In the back of my mind, the last thing I wanted was to return to reality, to some sort of existence that didn’t include Rebel, that didn’t include the pleasures of Rebel’s body.

I kissed her again, over and over, our lips unable to resist the pull of sliding against each other, just as my cock was experiencing with her perfect pussy. Just as I was contemplating staying in this room with Rebel forever, she began pushing back at me hard, her own need rising again and taking over.

As her spasms began, her body milking me, squeezing me with her own release, my body betrayed my best intentions and the pressure building inside me spilled out, my cock hammering in and out of her, the speed of my hips increasing as I slammed into her roughly, harder and harder until there was nothing left but the sound us trying to catch our breath as I lay gently on top of her.

Her breasts were soft and heaving against my chest, and I pulled her into me, wanting her as close to me as I could get her as our kisses turning gentle and soft.

After a moment, I pulled away slightly, smiling down at her once again.

“Oh, Rebel…” I said, kissing her neck, and laying my head against her, as I caressed her nipple with my hand.

“I love you, Mason.” She whispered in my ear, so soft, so quiet I almost didn’t hear her. But I did and it stopped me dead in my tracks, as I stiffened against her.

“I —,”

“MASON!” Harley’s voice bellowed down the hallway, his footsteps coming closer and closer as I looked down at Rebel still impaled on my still swollen cock below me.

“Fuck!” We both exclaimed, jumping to our feet and scrambling to put our clothes back on.

“Stay here!” I told her. “Hide!”

She looked at me questioningly for a split second, but she did as I asked, running into the bathroom and closing the door behind her after scooping up her clothes.

I don’t know why I told her to hide, but it would haunt me for the rest of my life. If I had known that making a different choice in that moment would change the future, I would have done it in a heartbeat.

But life doesn’t work that way, and so it was.

I was pulling on my boots just as Harley knocked on the door. I opened it, blocking the doorway, hoping like hell he didn’t come in.

“Hey, buddy,” I said to him, doing my damnedest to keep a straight face.

“There you are. I hadn’t seen you in a while. You okay?” “Yeah, sure, just fine,” I replied.

He squinted his eyes at me, looking me over curiously.

“You alone in there?” he asked.

“Nah, man. Just hanging out with Becky for a minute.” I prayed Becky wasn’t anywhere close by.

“Oh. Cool, cool, man. Sorry to interrupt.” He turned to walk down the hallway, and as I watched him walk away, my stomach dropped. I had never lied to Harley before Rebel came along, and now it was becoming a habit that I was not fond of at all.

“Fuck.” I closed the door softly, turning to stare straight into Rebel’s angry eyes.

“Becky?” she asked.

“Fuck, Rebel. What do you want me to do? This isn’t a good time, and I am in no mood to get in a fight with Harley tonight.”

“Yeah, right.” She said, turning away from me, her eyes darkening with pain.

I stood there contemplating what to do, but she took my contemplation as something else entirely, because it only seemed to anger her even more.

“Whatever, Mason. I get it…” She walked past me without meeting my eyes, opened the door and thundered down the hallway without so much as a backward glance.

Letting her walk way was another moment that would replay in my head over and over.

Life is full of choices, and sometimes you make the right ones, but way too often you make the bad ones, the ones you wish you could go back and do over. But that’s the cruel part of it all, isn’t it?

You only get one shot.

And you’d better not fuck it up, because you’re the one that has to live with the consequences.

As I walked out of the clubhouse, I heard the roar of a motorcycle start up. As I looked in the direction of the sound, I saw Rebel backing her bike up and then roaring off down the street, the ends of her gorgeous black hair sticking out of her helmet and flying behind her as she sped away all alone into the night.

I contemplated going after her, but didn’t. That was bad fucking choice number three, and at this point, I was on a roll.

Chapter Eighteen

Harley

My body shuddered in release as Becky wiggled her hips under me. I held onto them, pressing into her deeply as we came together, her tight body bent over the side of my desk.

I buckled up, disappointed that my encounter with her hadn’t done much to relieve my stress. When she had walked into my office an hour ago, expressing her unfulfilled needs, thanks to Mason, I was amused at first. But then, I thought, why the hell not? I hadn’t fucked anyone all week. I had been staying up late at night and waking up early in the morning, and spending every waking moment either stressing out about the meeting tomorrow or stressing out about Rebel.

Mostly about the meeting. I had come to the slow conclusion that Rebel was a grown woman, and could make her own decisions. I was going to provide her whatever support I could to start her adult life, but the reality of the situation was that she was going to do what she wanted, no matter what I thought.

And if doing what she wanted included Mason, who was I to stop her? She could do a lot worse. Mason was a stand-up guy, and he would never hurt her. He had always been there for me, and it was obvious that Rebel’s appearance back in our lives was tearing him apart.

The chemistry between the two of them freaked me out, I had to admit, but it was undeniable when you were in the room with them. It was certainly real, and it yet it definitely wasn’t there when we were all kids together.

Mason’s resistance had been admirable, considering the look in his eye every time he looked, or avoided looking, at Rebel. And he had been doing it all for me.

I almost felt bad for him. Especially when Becky told me what happened.

“Hey, Becky, enjoy the rest of your night, sweetheart.” I stuck a wad of cash in the bra that she had just put on, and gave her a quick kiss at the same time.

She laughed, running her fingers through my hair as she looked up at me.

“I feel like I should be paying you, Harley. I think your cock is bigger than your bike.”

“Oh, darlin’, you are too kind. It only feels that way, because your pussy is tight as a glove.” I winked at her, kissed her again, and left her in my office.

I walked out, looking for Mason.

I checked outside first, the party still in full swing, with Maverick sitting in the middle of the stage, four girls stripping and dancing naked around him, all of them rubbing their bodies against him. Maverick had a shit eating grin on his face and an ass in each hand as he looked over at me, nodded and winked.

“Happy Birthday, old man!” I yelled to him, grateful he was having a good night before our job tomorrow.

There were still a few details I wanted to go over with Mason, and I walked back into the clubhouse to continue looking for him. Mason was a known loner, and was often found closed away somewhere in a room by himself when there was a big crowd at the clubhouse.

He’d always been like that. The silent, lonely guy that was there in a pinch anytime you needed something.

When he opened the door to the bedroom, he looked like he had just been shot. His hair was disheveled, his clothes rumpled and he had red lipstick smeared across his cheek.

“Hey, buddy,” he said, his hands shaking as he stood in front of the door.

“There you are. I hadn’t seen you in a while. You okay?” I asked. “Yeah, sure, just fine,” he replied, quickly looking over his shoulder behind him.

“You alone in there?” I asked.

“Nah, man. Just hanging out with Becky for a minute.”

Um, what? Becky was still in my office, peeling her naked body off my desk. Why was he lying to me?

Of course. He was with Rebel.

I felt my anger rise, and then fall just as quickly. Whatever. I was coming to tell him I approved of their relationship anyway, and if he wasn’t ready to tell me, then I could accept that.

“Oh. Cool, cool, man. Sorry to interrupt.”

I walked away, smiling to myself at the fact that his heart was about to beat out of his chest.

Power. It was a fun thing every now and then.

I was sitting at the bar, talking to Hairy Joe when I saw Rebel run from the hallway and head straight to her bike outside. She put on her helmet, and roared off into the night alone before I could decide if I should follow her or not.

She was a grown woman, I reminded myself once again. She had a key to my house, her own transportation, and plenty of money. She could take care of herself just fine.

I looked over and saw Mason standing alone in the hallway watching her himself, a look of sadness on his face.

Whatever was going on, it would all work out, I thought to myself. Just as soon as we get through tomorrow’s meeting.

As for tonight, well, tonight was for whiskey, and perhaps another taste of Becky, I decided, as I opened another bottle of Maker’s.

Chapter Nineteen

Rebel

I drove all over Dallas after I left the clubhouse. I couldn’t bear to go home alone, and there was no way I could be locked up in that house while was my head was spinning like a top.

Mason. Mason. Mason.

His name ran through my head like a delicious mantra, and as much as I wanted to be mad at him for not telling Harley I was in the room, I couldn’t help but feel like my body had just come alive for the first time in my life.

Mason. Mason. Mason.

His hands! Those lips! His muscles, his ass, his fucking eyes burning into me like they could see into my deepest, darkest thoughts! The way his body worked against my own, touching me in places that I yearned to be touched without having to say a word to him! His caresses and his tongue and his amazingly huge cock that touched me in places I didn’t even know existed!

I would never be the same after tonight.

Something deep inside of me had been awakened, and I felt like an entirely different woman.

I had been fucked before, but tonight was different.

Mason and I had made love. And that was a whole different experience. It was something entirely new, and suddenly I was addicted. I wanted more. I needed more.

I wanted that sickening feeling of my heart swelling in my chest every time he looked at me. I wanted to feel like I was going to pass out from sheer joy when his skin slid against mine. I needed to feel him inside of me, our bodies joined together in a search for something that neither of us have ever had.

Love.

This was what all the hype was about, and I got it now.

I sighed as my bike flew down the freeway, the big Texas moon following me as I made my way to White Rock Lake, circling it three times before I decided to go back to Harley’s for the night.

I had a plan for tomorrow, and I needed to get some sleep so that I could be as alert as possible. It was important I didn’t fuck anything up, or get caught.

But I knew I had to do it. I was going to watch the club’s meeting. From afar and from a safe distance, of course. And secretly.

I knew neither Harley or Mason would approve, but now that I knew there was something big going down, and since I overheard the location and time, I couldn’t resist going to watch.

It might be a little risky, but I knew I could keep myself safe. If I stayed far enough away, I knew that nothing bad would happen. I would stay alert, keep an eye on my surroundings, and get there early so that I could find the perfect hiding spot.

Everything would be fine.

And then, afterwards? When everything was over, and Mason and Harley were happy everything had gone so well, then maybe Mason and I could talk to Harley together. We could tell him how we felt about each other.

Sure, Mason hadn’t told me he loved me back, but I knew it. I could see it in his eyes. I could hear it in his voice, and feel it every time he touched me. It didn’t matter if his touch was gentle or rough, there was strong emotion behind every caress and he could try denying it if he wanted to, if he felt the need to, but I knew better.

I may not have ever been in love before, but I knew it was real. Nothing in the world had ever felt like this for me.

I lay alone in bed that night still smelling him, still tasting his kiss on my lips and still feeling his hands running over my naked skin as I drifted off to sleep a changed woman.

Chapter Twenty

Mason

My eyes opened Saturday morning to the sounds of birds chirping. I rolled over, groaning unhappily at the emptiness of my bed.

I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Rebel. Imagining what my life might look like with Rebel in it. Imagining what my bed would look like with Rebel in it, tangled in my sheets, her hair messed up and her lips swollen from my kisses.

I knew she was mad at me, but she was just going to have to get over it. I hadn’t told Harley about us last night, but only because it wasn’t the right time. As soon as today was over, I was going to tell him everything, whether he wanted to hear it or not.

And then she wouldn’t be mad anymore.

Then, she would smile that thousand-watt smile at me, and she would wrap those long arms and legs around me, and I could lose myself in her again, I could spend hours inside her warmth, tasting her and teasing her until we were both crying out in pleasure.

She had been so amazing beneath me last night. My cock hardened as visions of her softening below me ran through my head, her body submitting to my hard thrusts. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and I planned to make her all mine.

As soon as this fucking day was over.

I wanted to rush through it, have it over and done with in whatever the easiest way possible was. But with something like this, there was no easy way.

It was dangerous, pure and simple. Dangerous, with a capital D.

But despite that fact, I was confident we could handle it. Harley had a way of exerting himself that made you more than happy to oblige him, no matter what he wanted, and I knew he would be exercising that unique gift of his fully in this situation.

After a quick meeting at the clubhouse, ten of us suited up, arming ourselves fully, a show of excessive force that was more for intimidating the cartel instead of actually using it against them. Harley and I, and eight other brothers, mounted our bikes and put on our helmets. Hairy Joe and Hooligan, two of our longest standing brothers, rode in the truck, which carried even more guns and ammunition, should the need arise.

We caravanned down the street, turning heads the entire way there. Harley had gotten the word from Johnny that everything was going as planned, and by the time we arrived, both the cartel and El Loco Gatos were locked inside the warehouse.

We parked our bikes and the van around the corner, and walked down behind the warehouse, quietly opening the back door Johnny had left unlocked for us.

We trailed down a long hallway, and then stopped to watch the men standing in the center of the room. Hiding in the darkness on the edge of the dimly lit warehouse, we sat back, watching and waiting until Harley gave us a sign.

The warehouse was one big, empty concrete room, with a huge, dark loft hanging on the side of it. No windows, no ventilation, and suffocatingly hot.

“Dónde está la cocaína?” Johnny asked Sergio Garcia, the leader of the cartel, the most dangerous drug dealer this side of the Mexican border.

“Dónde está el dinero?” Sergio replied.

Johnny nodded to another man on his right. He lifted up a dirty, black duffel bag and placed it on the table between the two groups of men. The tension was thick, and everyone in the room had their hands placed on the guns at their sides, ready for all hell to break loose at any moment.

I held my breath, keeping one eye on Harley and one eye on the men in front of us.

The sound of Sergio unzipping the bag was the only sound in the room. He looked at the wads of cash inside, nodded his head to a man standing on his left, and smiled at Johnny.

Sergio’s man placed two briefcases on the table, and Johnny slowly walked over and opened each of them. Taking a knife out of his pocket, he stabbed one of the bricks contained inside them. He stuck his finger inside it, then licked the powdery white cocaine from his finger.

“Delicioso!” he said, his voice echoing through the warehouse eerily.

“Un placer hacer negocios con ustedes, mis amigos,” Sergio said.

“A pleasure doing business with you, too,” Johnny replied in English.

The loud sound of the latches on the briefcase clicking shut and the zipping of the bags rang in my ears, and as Harley slowly rose from his kneeling position, we all followed suit, one by one standing up and following our leader, our guns drawn, our senses on the highest alert.

We were some tough motherfuckers, no doubt about it, but even the bravest of men would find their hearts racing in a situation like this. I’m sure none of us took a breath from the moment we walked in the door, and I could have sworn I heard Harley’s heart beating loudly in his chest beside me.

We approached the cartel from behind, the Gatos seeing us, but not letting on that we were there. The cartel consisted of five men, and we quickly came up behind each one of them, the clicking of our guns at their temples causing them to freeze one by one.

Harley was the only one who spoke, standing with his gun pressed hard to Sergio’s temple. Sergio and his men dropped their guns right away, their hands rising to the ceiling in surrender.

“Hello, my friend,” Harley said, circling around to look Sergio in the eye.

“Amigo Hola, mi vestido de cuero,” Sergio replied, his smirk failing miserably at concealing his fear.

“Sergio, I’m so disappointed in you. You know this transaction is against our agreement. I don’t have to explain that to a man as intelligent as yourself, now do I?” Harley smiled, his grin as intimidating as if he were snarling.

“No, amigo,” Sergio replied quietly.

“Sergio, have I been kind to you so far?”

“Yes, amigo, very kind,” Sergio replied. His hands were raised above his head, and I saw him shaking and smiled to myself.

“Thank you. I like to think I’m a kind man. But here’s the rub, Sergio. If I’m too kind, people do things like this to me, because they think they can get away with it. And I just can’t let that happen.”

“No, amigo.” Sergio’s face was full of fear, and Harley took full advantage of it, pressing his gun directly into the middle of his forehead. Sweat began to pour down Sergio’s face as he shook his head.

“No. No is the right answer. Now, the problem, Sergio, is that I like you. I like doing business with you, and I would like to continue to do so.”

It was moments like this that made me love Harley. He was as calm as if he were talking about the weather, while everyone around us were almost pissing their pants in fear. He had always been like that. That’s why he was made president so quickly, he handled stress like it was a walk in the park.

“Unfortunately, in order to continue doing business with you, I’m going to need two things from you.”

“Si, amigo. Anything you want. I apologize sincerely.” Sergio knew the right things to say. It didn’t matter that he was a powerful leader of a huge drug cartel, when someone had a gun pointed at your brain, you tended to do whatever they wanted.

With a smile, if possible.

“Good, good. First, you’ll need to agree to never go behind my back and sell to any gangs in my territory. Can you do that?”

“Si, amigo. Absolutely.”

“Good, good. And second, I’m going to need to confiscate that product you were trying to sell today.”

Sergio look defeated, and he was. There was nothing he could do but agree. What else was he going to do? Fight us? Of course not. He was smarter than that.

“I understand, amigo.”

“Excellent. Now,” Harley said, his gun still pressed to Sergio’s sweaty forehead, while he spoke to Johnny. “Johnny, you and your men can go ahead and leave. Thank you for your cooperation. Take your cash with you.”

Johnny nodded silently, grabbed his duffel bag, and walked down the hallway, he and his men exiting out the back door of the warehouse.

“Oh, and Sergio, we’re going to be taking these guns, too. Gather ‘em up, boys.”

Hairy Joe and Hooligan picked up the guns at the feet of the cartel men and then grabbed the briefcases. We walked out without another word said, Sergio and his men watching us leave, their hands still up in the air as the door closed shut behind us.

Chapter Twenty-One

Harley

We roared up to the clubhouse full of piss, vinegar and dangerously increased levels of testosterone and adrenaline.

“Fuck yes!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, as I pulled my helmet off my head.

The hooting and hollering began as soon as we entered the clubhouse. Someone turned on the stereo, and the sounds of Lynyrd Skynyrd poured out of the speakers. The whiskey began to flow, and a tray loaded with joints and cocaine was pulled from it’s hiding place behind the bar.

I hated cocaine. I always had. And I wasn’t fond of doing business that involved it, but it paid the bills, and this was most definitely a job that you sometimes had to do shit you didn’t want to.

Like Sergio. I really did like him. Up until now, all of our interactions had been pleasant and easy. But business was business, and just as I had told him, there was no way I could let him get away with fucking me over like that.

I sincerely hoped he learned his lesson, because having to punish him any further than taking his drugs was really going to be unpleasant for me.

I hated the violent part of my job, but it was a necessary evil.

But, for now, I was thankful that whole thing was over, and no blood was spilled. Every now and then, one of my brothers got injured during one of our jobs, and there was nothing that hurt me more. I was constantly wracked with guilt for putting our boys in harm’s way, no matter how inevitable I knew it was.

The next few days should be calm and easy, and I was looking forward to a little bit of time to breathe and relax. Maybe I would try to spend some time with Rebel, try to guide her to a job and a place to live.

She was a lot more grown up than most women her age, but she still needed some guidance. Now that this thing with the cartel was over, I was looking forward to getting to know her better.

I spent the day at the clubhouse celebrating with the boys and letting off steam.

Mason cornered me after a while, and when he told me he wanted to talk to me, I knew it was about Rebel.

I decided to cut him a little slack, and stopped him before he could get started.

“Look, Mason, it’s okay, man. I forgive you about what happened with Rebel. Obviously, the two of you are made for each other, fuck the sparks flying off the two of you are enough to light a bonfire.”

“Are you serious, Harley?” He looked at me so solemnly, so sincerely, that I reached out and hugged the poor chap.

“Yeah, dude,” I said, hitting him on the back. “It’s all good. I wish you both luck. You have my blessing.”

“Um, Harley, I’m not sure you understand. I think I’m in love with her.”

“I know, Mason. Listen, man, just treat her right, and everything will work out. I love that little brat.” I winked at him, and a huge smile of relief spread across his face.

I could only imagine what Rebel’s face would look like when Mason told her that they had my blessing.

For a brief moment, I wondered what my parents would say, but I dismissed it as quickly as it came. I was the one in charge now.

Chapter Twenty-two

Rebel

I arrived at the warehouse before anyone else, early the next morning. After parking my bike three blocks away, and hiding it deep between two narrow buildings, I trotted around to the back door of the empty warehouse.

Quietly and quickly, I picked the lock outside, just like Harley had taught me when we were breaking into our parents bedroom to steal sips from the liquor bottles they hid in there. I had loved the sound and feeling when the lock finally slid open, that feeling of accomplishing something forbidden. It had become a little hobby of mine to try to figure out how to open as many locks as I could over the years. And I was good at it.

I locked the door behind me as I tiptoed in. It was hours before the meeting was supposed to happen, and I had my backpack with me. It was the same backpack I had since I was twelve - it was made of worn black leather and had a Renegade Rebels patch sewn on the front of it. It contained a bottle of water, a package of chips and a chocolate bar. I knew I might be there a while.

I quickly scanned the place and saw that I was alone. I found a dark corner up in the secluded loft to hide in, where I could see the rest of the warehouse perfectly. I settled in, turned my cell phone on silent, and opened my water bottle, slowly sipping it, and scrolling through facebook on my phone while I waited.

El Loco Gatos showed up first. They stood around, speaking Spanish and looking around the place. I was sure nobody would come up to the loft, and I was right. When the cartel showed up shortly after, my heart was racing as I watched from my perch.

I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect, but I knew the Renegade Rebels were going to show up, and I couldn’t wait to see Harley and Mason in action.

When it all went down, I wasn’t disappointed, and I was filled with respect and admiration for my brother and Mason. Sure, it was scary, but they handled the entire interaction with complete professionalism and calmness. It was impressive.

I waited around until the MC and the El Loco Gatos left, watching the men in the cartel express their extreme anger. I was thankful they couldn’t see me, and for the first time all day I began feeling like maybe it was a bad idea to come here.

If something happened, Harley wouldn’t even know I was here. But I just couldn’t let that happen.

The cartel stuck around much longer than I anticipated. My plan was to just quietly slip out after everyone had left, completely unseen. But they must have stayed there another hour, making phone calls and yelling at each other in Spanish, hanging out as if they were waiting for something.

I quietly sipped my water, until I began to feel the urge to pee, and yet the last thing I could do was get up from my perch. I shifted my body, trying to squeeze my thighs together and think of anything else besides peeing.

Another half hour passed, and I was about to burst. What the fuck was I thinking? This entire day had gone from a great idea of innocently watching my brother work, to the worst idea ever. When were these idiots going to leave, I wondered for the fiftieth time.

Finally, they began packing up their things after a particularly intense conversation, of which I could understand not one word.

Learning Spanish was not high on my list of priorities while I was growing up. I knew how to order Mexican food, but that was the extent of my vocabulary.

I sighed a huge sigh of relief when they finally trailed out of the warehouse. I packed up my things, and quickly descended the staircase leading to the loft. I waited another excruciating five minutes to give them time to drive away, and exited the building the same way I came in, through the back door.

I made sure the coast was clear, then I sprinted down the few blocks to where my bike was parked, pulled down my blue jean shorts, squatted next to my bike and sighed heavily as sweet relief washed over me.

I had my head down, staring at the concrete when I saw a pair of leather boots walk up next to me, and the click of a gun cocking sounded next to my ear.

I swallowed hard, and looked up slowly, straight into the eyes of Sergio Garcia.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” I grabbed my shorts, and stood up slowly, pulling them up as I did so. I fastened them quickly, then put my hands up.

Sergio watched me, keeping the gun to my head the entire time. My body began shaking, and the realization that Harley and Mason had no idea where I was sank in fast and I felt sicker than I had ever been in my life.

“Who are you?”

“Um…Rebel.”

“Rebel? Your name is Rebel?” He sneered with his thick accent, and then laughed loudly as three of his men came around the corner, guns drawn and pointed straight at me.

“Y-yes.” I stuttered. How the fuck was I going to get out of this?

“So, Rebel. What were you doing in the warehouse back there? My men saw you walk out.”

“Um…I was just looking around, that’s all.”

“Looking around, eh?” He raised an eyebrow, looking at me suspiciously. “And what did you see?”

“Nothing, I didn’t see anything.”

He raised his chin, his eyes squinting as he looked me over. Then he spotted the patch on my backpack and picked it up.

“Now, this,” he pointed to the patch as he spoke. “This is interesting. How do you know the Renegade Rebels Motorcycle Club?”

Fuck. I could lie, tell him I didn’t know them. But if I told them who I really was I knew one of two things would happen. Either they would keep me safe and return me to Harley, or they would kill me and return me to Harley. Considering my brother had just humiliated the man standing in front of me, I didn’t think my chances of survival were so good.

Turns out, I didn’t have to say a thing. One of Sergio’s men riffled through my bag, finding my ID.

“Jill Robinson, boss.”

“Ah, now let’s see. Harley Robinson is the president of the Renegade Rebel Motorcycle Club. You told me your name is Rebel. But your ID says Robinson. So are you Rebel Robinson?”

“Yes.”

“So you are related to Harley, I assume, amiga? Is that correct?”

I didn’t reply, just stared at him, keeping my face as still as possible.

“Well, this is definitely an interesting development, isn’t it, amigos?” he said to his men, their guns still pointed right at me.

“Sí, jefe. Muy interesante,” the biggest of the two replied.

Sergio dropped his gun to his side, walking over to my bike and looking at it.

“Is this your bike, Rebel?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“It’s very nice. Very nice, indeed.”

He stood there silently for a moment, his eyes glued to mine until he suddenly snapped his fingers and walked away.

“Bring her. Bring the bike, too,” he called over his shoulder as he strode down the sidewalk back to the warehouse. “And don’t hurt a hair on her pretty head.”

I screamed and struggled as one of them grabbed an arm and began pulling me along with them down the block. The other pulled the keys to the bike from the clip that was fastened to my belt-loop and stayed behind.

The sound of my bike starting up behind me, mixed with my pleas fell deaf to anyone’s ears but mine.

I had royally fucked up and all I could do was hope Harley could get me out of this. He was going to hate me now, I just knew it.

It’s funny that my first thought was of Harley hating me, and not of my own personal safety. Something in the way that Sergio had instructed them not to hurt me, and the firm, but still gentle way I was being led down the street by Sergio’s man, kept me from panicking.

When we returned to the warehouse, instead of entering the building, Sergio’s man put me in the back of a large, black SUV with heavily tinted windows. He slid in next to me and sat silently as we waited together.

I looked over at the door closest to me and saw that it was unlocked. Sergio was nowhere in sight, and neither was the man that took my bike. Just this big, silent, dumb guy sitting next to me.

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, and saw the big gun he was still holding in his hand. But then, Sergio’s words rang in my head again, and as I looked back at the door handle just inches from my hand, I knew I had to make a run for it.

He wouldn’t shoot me, and I was a lot smaller than him, and I would bet good money I could run faster than him.

I took a deep breath, and began talking to him.

“Look, mister, I didn’t mean any harm. Don’t you think you can just let — ,” I pulled the door handle mid-sentence and jumped out of the car as fast as I could, my feet already running before they even hit the pavement.

“Mierda!” he yelled, and just as I turned the first corner, I heard him run around the vehicle and begin to chase me.

I ran as fast as I could, my feet flying under me. I was going fast, too fast. I turned a corner and my feet slid out from under me, and I slid across the pavement, skinning my right thigh and calf painfully.

Sergio’s man caught up with me instantly and grabbed me with both hangs, pulling me yelling and kicking to my feet.

“Let me go, you fucking asshole!” I screamed, kicking him as he easily held me up off the ground, my legs flailing. I reached over and bit his hand as hard as I could, a big chunk of bloody flesh left in my mouth as he dropped me and began yelling and cursing at me in Spanish again.

“Mierda! Mierda!” I started to run away again, but he was too fast and despite the pain he must have been feeling, he caught up to me again, his blood dripping onto my black boots.

This time, he held me out in front of him, carrying me back down the block and muttering to himself the whole time.

“Pequeña perra. Me Morder como un pequeño monstruo de mierda!”

I kicked and screamed at the top of my lungs, but he was holding me so tightly that I couldn’t escape his grip. When we returned to the warehouse, Sergio was waiting outside the vehicle, his arms crossed, his expression stern, yet amused.

“Ella es un pequeño demonio!” Sergio’s man yelled to him from behind me as we reached the car.

“Fuck you!” I yelled. Sergio laughed at his man’s words.

“What the fuck is so funny?” I laughed, my anger rising in me now in waves. Fuck these guys, I wasn’t going to let them take me anywhere without a fight.

“He said you are a hellion, little one.”

“A hellion?” I asked, spitting in Sergio’s direction. “You have no fucking idea. Let me go! Now! You have no idea who I am, and you are messing with the wrong woman!”

“Woman? Woman!” Sergio roared with laughter, and I would have kicked him square in the balls if his goon wasn’t holding onto me so tightly. “You are still a kid, little one. I’d be surprised if you even had any hair on that pretty little pussy of yours. Not only are you a kid, niña, you are a stupid kid, apparently. What would possess you to come here? Huh? You want to be in the big, bad, motorcycle club like your brother? Is that it?”

So he had figured it out. He knew I was Harley’s sister. Good. That was good, I thought. Or, maybe not. Either was I was fucked. Once again, I thought of how pissed off Harley was going to be when he found out I followed him.

“Fuck you!” I said, spitting at him again. He shook his head at me, looking at me like I was an oddity in a circus.

“Let’s go,” he said, smirking at me. He turned to get in the car as the goon behind me shuffled me forward and put me back in the car roughly.

He locked the door next to me, sat closely next to me and tightened his grip on my arm even more.

“You’re hurting me, you asshole!” I said, doing my best to wiggle away from him.

“Too bad, niña!” he said, not loosening his grip on me at all, even though we were driving down the road at full speed.

“I’m not going to jump out while the car is moving, for fuck’s sake!”

He looked at me with his beady black eyes, leaning in so close to me that I could smell his rancid breath.

“You aren’t going to jump out at all, because I’m not going to let you go!”

“Fuck you,” I replied.

I sat there silently, watching my future play out in front of my eyes as we raced down the road. It was simple, really. Either I survived, or I didn’t. I resigned myself once again to not go out without a fight, and if they were going to kill me, which I desperately hoped they wouldn’t, they were going to have to work for it.

When we finally entered a garage, I looked around and realized we were pulling into the garage at the Crescent Hotel. The Crescent was one of the fanciest hotels in Dallas, and one of the busiest. If these guys thought they were going to successfully keep me from escaping from a fancy hotel, they were sorely mistaken.

I liked to think of myself as an amateur escape artist, which went right along with my love for picking locks. I could get out of almost everything. When we were kids, Harley, Mason and I spent hours watching old videos of Houdini and trying to recreate his famous stunts. They would practice tying me up, using rope or scarves to tie me to a chair and then see how long it would take me to get out. We took turns, but I always the best at escaping.

We did some weird things to pass the time when we were kids, but didn’t all kids? As long as these guys didn’t hurt me, I was pretty confident I could get out of whatever they threw at me.

I just needed to stay calm, and everything would be just fine.

They whisked me right up a private elevator that led straight into the penthouse suite of the hotel, with Sergio’s goon holding me tightly the entire time.

“Where’s my bike?” I asked Sergio once we were in the room.

“Don’t you worry, little rebellious one. Your bike is fine. You’ll be fine, too, as long as you cooperate with me. If you do as I say, you’ll be back with your motorcycle riding gangster family before you know it.”

“Well what the fuck is going on? Let me fucking out of here!”

“All in good time, little one. In the meantime, why don’t you enjoy this luxurious suite? I’m sure someone like you…,” his voice held complete disdain for me, and he looked me up and down with contempt in his eyes, “has never had the opportunity to see such a nice place.”

He was right, but I wasn’t about to let him know it.

“Fuck you and your luxury suite, you’re nothing but a glorified drug dealer and when my brother finds out you’ve got me here he’s going to do a lot more than take your fucking drugs, you moron!” I was screaming, crying, fear kicking in hard as I yelled at him, my voice shaking, despite my best efforts to control it.

He laughed at me and turned away.

“Sit down,” Sergio’s goon pushed me down onto a white silk couch, towering over me while I rubbed my bruised arm.

“I’m going to make a few calls. Keep an eye on her. But remember - don’t hurt her. We need her safe and alive,” Sergio said.

“Sí, jefe.” He sat on the couch next to me, folding his arms and settling in while Sergio walked down the hallway, his voice fading as he stepped into a back bedroom.

Chapter Twenty-three

Mason

I left the clubhouse at five in the afternoon, fighting rush-hour traffic before I finally made it home thirty minutes later. I was so happy everything went so well with the cartel and even more happy that Harley seemed to have come to some sort of acceptance when it came to Rebel and me.

I still didn’t know how our lives would look with her in it, but I was excited to find out. I had never wanted a relationship with a woman, in fact, it was the last thing I was interested in. But something about the way Rebel made me feel had changed everything whether I liked it or not.

I couldn’t stop thinking about her all day. Harley had decided to go home at the same time I did. He wanted to spend the evening with Rebel, trying to make some amends with her and help her get on her feet.

I easily could have moved her into my place, but that wouldn’t be the best thing for Rebel. She was young, and she still needed to experience living on her own, and taking care of herself. I was looking forward to watching her grow, and spending as much time with her as I could.

I took a shower when I returned home, and just as I was drying off I heard my cell phone ringing. Hoping it was Rebel, I ran down the hallway to catch it before it went to voice mail.

It was Harley.

“Hey Harley,” I answered.

“They’ve got Rebel.” He sounded frantic and his voice was full of worry.

“What? What are you talking about? Who has her?” “The fucking Garcia cartel. I don’t know how, but they’ve got her. I got home and there’s a note stuck to the seat of her bike with a fucking switchblade right in the middle of it.”

“A note? What does it say?” My legs trembled, and my anger rose. If they hurt Rebel, I would kill them.

“It says, ‘The girl for the drugs’.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah. What are we going to do, Mason?”

“I’m on my way. Stay put.”

“Alright. Hurry the fuck up. I will kill those motherfuckers if they hurt her!"

“Try to stay calm. If there’s any killing to be done, I’ll fucking do it. She’s going to be okay. I’ll be right there.”

I hung up the phone, dressed, and was roaring down the street in two minutes flat.

Chapter Twenty-four

Harley

By the time Mason arrived, I was sick with worry. And I still had no answers as to how Rebel ended up with them.

I called Sergio right after I called Mason, and he answered right away.

“Hola, Harley! I was expecting to hear from you!”

“You motherfucker! If you hurt my sister, I will fucking cut your cock off and stuff it in your mouth after I rip your tongue out!”

“Oh, now, now, Harley. I thought we were friends? I wouldn’t think to hurt your little hellion of a sister. She’s quite frisky, isn’t she? I’m surprised you want her back, to tell you the truth. But obviously, you do. And I’ll be very happy to return her to you safe and sound. But, since we do have a business relationship, I’m going to need those drugs back. As you know, they’re worth a hell of a lot of money. I just can’t afford to part with them. And now that I have something you want, well why not? Surely, you understand, yes, mi amigo?”

“Fine, whatever. Where the fuck is my sister?”

“I will tell you where she is as soon as I have my product back, mi amigo.”

“Fine, where do you want to meet?”

“Well, just to make things easy, let’s meet at the same warehouse we were at this morning, shall we?”

“When?”

“How about at ten tonight?”

“Fine, but if you hurt Rebel, I will fuck you up so bad. I’m not kidding, Sergio. You’d best not fuck with me.”

“Now, now, mi amigo. Let’s keep this cordial, shall we? No need for anger. As long as you don’t cause any trouble, I’ll take care of your precious sister, I promise.”

“Ten p.m. See you then.” I hung up the phone right as Mason barreled through my front door.

I had never seen a man so ravaged with worry. His grimace was drawn tightly across his face and he was heaving with anger.

“What the fuck, man!” he yelled.

“I just talked to Sergio. I have no idea how they got her, I came home and her bike was in the driveway with the note on it. I called Sergio, and he wants to trade Rebel for the drugs.”

“That motherfucker. Of course he does. I’m going to fucking rip his head off!” he yelled again.

“Look, try to calm down. I’m worried, too. But Sergio wouldn’t hurt her. He’s not that stupid. I’d kill him and his entire cartel and he knows it. If we have to give the drugs back to get Rebel, then fine, whatever.”

“Fine, so let’s go.”

“Not till ten p.m. He’s meeting us at the warehouse. Let’s call everyone back to the clubhouse, we’ll make a plan, get the drugs and get to the warehouse on time.”

“How did they even get her? How did they know where you live?”

“I don’t know, man. I can’t believe how fucked up this is. All I wanted to do was keep Rebel out of this life, and now she’s so deep in it, I just - just - I can’t even fucking think about it. We gotta get her the fuck outta there.”

“Motherfucker!” Mason yelled again.

“I know, bro, I know. She’s going to be okay, I promise. Let’s get to the clubhouse,” I said.

Mason agreed and we hoped on our bikes after calling Maverick and filling him in, instructing him to get everyone back to the clubhouse to meet us.

As I roared down the highway on the way back to the clubhouse, I had never felt so much worry for Rebel. She was good at getting herself in trouble, but it was never anything like this. This danger was real.

Mason sped down the highway in front of me, his bike weaving in and out of traffic dangerously, and I knew he was seeing red. If I had left Rebel at Mason’s house, she probably would have been safer. They wouldn’t have looked for her there. I should have known that Sergio would seek revenge after I humiliated him so badly in front of his own men.

What the fuck had I been thinking to not have the family on lockdown in the clubhouse during such a dangerous time?

Instead, we were celebrating like a bunch of fucking idiots.

I thought of my father, knowing that if he were there, his eyes would be full of deep disappointment that I had put Rebel in such a dangerous situation.

I could only hope Rebel didn’t do anything stupid to make the situation any worse. And even more importantly, I could only hope she would forgive me for being the worst brother in the whole goddamned world.

Chapter Twenty-five

Rebel

“I have to pee.” I told the goon sitting next to me.

He ignored me, his eyes glued to the television in front of us. I nudged him.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Jorge.” He replied, staring straight ahead.

“Well, Jorge, I have to pee.” I stood up, and that caught his attention finally.

“You were peeing when we found you.”

“Yeah, well. I drank a lot of water, and you guys are scaring the piss out of me, so unless you want me to piss on this pristine white silk couch, then you’ll show me to the bathroom.”

The penthouse was practically a fortress. The only way in and out was the fucking elevator and that made a loud ding every time it opened, so sneaking out without being noticed was not going to happen. I was hoping if I could take a look at the bathroom, I could at least find something to incapacitate this guy.

Sergio had left the penthouse after a few minutes of making phone calls in the other room, and instructing the goon to keep an eye on me.

“Don’t harm her, under any circumstances, but don’t let her leave either. I trust you can handle yourself with her?” I over heard him whispering to him in the corner.

“Si, jefe. Sorry about earlier. I’m a drug dealer, not a kidnapper. I don’t have a lot of experience holding on to wiggling putitas.”

“Well, you’re a big hombre, I have faith you can handle her.”

“Si, jefe.” The goon hung his head, and I smirked with the knowledge that I had humiliated him.

Poor guy. I was nowhere near finished with him, and if he thought I was just going to let them keep me here against my will without a fight, he was dead wrong.

Now that I was in the penthouse alone with Jorge, I was determined to find a way to escape, no matter what I had to do.

“Fine! Let’s go!” He stood up quickly, grabbing my arm and dragging me down the hallway.

Sergio was right - the suite was the most beautiful place I had ever been in. White marble floors, sparkling glass tables and white fur rugs created a type of luxury I had only seen in magazines. It was totally luxurious, and yet completely uncomfortable. I hated it. I was afraid to sneeze in a place like this. How did people live amongst such pristine environments, I wondered?

I missed the clubhouse so badly right then. I longed for the familiar smell of oil, leather and whiskey. I missed the coziness of beat up hardwood floors and the smelly bar. And Mason. Fuck, I missed Mason so fiercely, my eyes filled with tears as I thought about him. He must be so worried. Or so angry.

Probably a mixture of both, but I hoped when we got out of this mess, the anger would disappear and he would look at me again like he did yesterday. I would have given anything to be back in his arms in that moment, and as Jorge roughly shoved me along the marble hallway, I looked at him with complete contempt. As far as I was concerned, he was the only thing standing in the way between me and Mason was him.

I breathed a huge sigh of relief when I entered the bathroom, and saw the huge vase of flowers on the vanity. I walked further in, and turned around to face Jorge.

“You aren’t watching.” I slammed the door in his face.

“Puta!” I heard him mutter under his breath.

Fuck him. I really did have to pee, and while I sat there on the toilet, my heart began racing, throbbing loudly in my chest, as I thought about what I was going to do.

I stood up and washed my hands, laughing at the fancy little soaps that were on the counter. I put a few of them in my jeans pocket for later, a souvenir of my not-so-amazing adventure today.

Pushing away the humiliation I felt when I looked myself in the eye in the mirror, I took a deep breath and mustered as much strength as I could. I may have gotten myself into this fucked up situation, but I sure as hell was going to at least try to get myself out of it.

Besides, if I escaped, then maybe Mason and Harley would be impressed. After the anger went away, that is. However long that was going to take.

I removed the white lilies from the vase, breaking one off and putting it behind my ear. After I poured out the water in the sink, I tested the heaviness of the vase.

“Hurry up in there, niña!” Jorge called from the other side of the door.

“Almost done!” I hollered back.

“Don’t worry, I’m coming asshole,” I muttered to myself.

I waited until I heard his footsteps walking away, and then quietly opened the door. I tiptoed up behind him, raising the heavy glass vase over my head with both hands. I quickly took a deep breathe and then smashed it onto his bald head as hard as I could.

He went down like a shot dog. I couldn’t believe it!

I crept around him, looking at his huge body that lay crumpled on the floor like a blanket. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing, but he was out like a light.

I smirked, and then I flipped his unconscious body off.

“Fuck you, you stupid goon!” I said to him, doing a little dance around him.

I was so proud of myself. Mason and Harley were going to be proud of me, too, because now they didn’t have to give the drugs back, and the cartel wouldn’t have the upper hand.

And then finally, Mason and I could start our life together. But first, I had to get the fuck out of here.

I looked around, spotting my backpack and phone all the way across the massive living room. I would just call Harley, let him know I was safe, and then I would leave on the elevator. I couldn’t wait to hear his voice when he heard from me.

I took about ten steps towards my backpack when the elevator dinged. I jumped about ten feet, and ran back the other way towards where Jorge lay.

I ran to the back of the suite, the bedroom being the only option I had to run to. The only place I could think to hide was under the bed, and I dove under there just as I heard sharp footsteps exit the elevator.

Two voices began yelling in Spanish, as they obviously spotted the bleeding Jorge right away. Neither of them sounded like Sergio. They talked loudly and excitedly for a few moments, calling Jorge’s name as they tried to rouse him.

I trembled under the bed as I listened, wishing I could see, but the dust ruffle on the bed was hiding me completely, and I prayed they didn’t think to look for me under here.

“The puta is gone!” I heard one of them yell. Footsteps trailed through the suite quickly, and when I heard them approach the bedroom door, I held my breath, frozen in fear. I was pretty sure the act of knocking out one of Sergio’s men would change Sergio’s instructions about not hurting me.

I followed the sound of the footsteps as they trailed into the bedroom, stopping in front of the closet, the sound of the closet door opening and shutting before they exited the room again. I began to breath again, thankful they hadn’t thought to look under the bed.

I heard moaning come down the hallway, and Jorge’s voice shortly after that.

“Perra! Coño!” Jorge was pissed, obviously. I’m sure his head probably didn’t feel too good, either.

How is it that while I was trying to get myself out of a dangerous situation, I only made it worse?

I groaned to myself, frantically trying to think of some way, any way to get out of this. If only it wasn’t for that fucking elevator!

At least they hadn’t found me. Maybe if they thought I escaped, they wouldn’t think to look for me here.

When I heard Jorge’s cell phone ring, his voice shaking as he spoke on the phone to Sergio, I knew my guardian angel was looking out for me.

“El Jefe, I’m so sorry. She got away. She hit me over the head with a vase.”

Sergio was yelling so loudly, that I could hear his string of Spanish cuss words come through the phone and all the way down the hall to my ears under the bed.

He was not a happy man. I almost felt sorry for Jorge. Almost.

Chapter Twenty-six

Mason

I had never been so sick with worry in my life. My mind raced with images of Rebel, and every moment of opportunity I had to have made some different choice that would have avoided this situation.

Maybe if I had just turned her away that first day. If I hadn’t fucked her. If I hadn’t followed her to the bus stop to offer her a ride. If every single thing that happened hadn’t occurred, then maybe Rebel would be safe.

If she wasn’t anywhere near me, anywhere near the MC, maybe things would have turned out differently. Harley was right all along. This life was no place for her. What had ever made me think she would be untouched by all the bullshit and violence that came along with the outlaw life?

I was an idiot, and this was all my fucking fault.

I knew Harley thought so, too. I could see it in his eyes. He was all business, and that was good — that was required. But he couldn’t mask the blame that I saw when I looked at him.

And I deserved it.

Fuck Sergio Garcia. His face flashed in my mind, and the anger coursed through my body in hot waves when I thought about what I was going to do once I got my hands on his sleazy neck. What kind of man goes to another man’s house and kidnaps his sister, when he was the one that fucked up in the first place?

I couldn’t believe that he would target Rebel in this way. It didn’t seem like his style, but he had.

I shuddered when I thought about what she was going through, what she went through when they snatched her from Harley’s house. She must have been so terrified.

I couldn’t even think about what they might do to her in the few hours they had her. My mind couldn’t bear to go there, not for a second.

I had to get her back. We had to get her back. Harley could blame me all he wanted, he could tell me I told you so as many times as he pleased, hell — he could beat the shit out of me if he wanted, I didn’t care — as long as we got Rebel back in one piece, I didn’t give a shit what happened to me.

When we got to the clubhouse, Harley and I thundered into the war room, everyone else already seated and waiting for us.

“This is personal, brothers,” Harley began. “They’ve got Rebel, and that changes the rules. We’re giving back the drugs for Rebel. Once we have Rebel safe and sound and back where she belongs,” Harley glanced over at me, his eyes a mixture of so many emotions I wasn’t sure if he was going to cry or start shooting at me. “Once we have her back, then we can discuss how to best deal with the Garcia cartel. We couldn’t let them get away with doing a deal with El Loco Gatos, and we certainly can’t let them get away with this bullshit. Right now, they have the upper hand because they have Rebel. But that won’t last long.”

Everyone around the table nodded solemnly, each of them listening intently as Harley continued, relaying the details of the meeting.

“Alright, we ride in one hour. Maverick, get the bag ready.” Harley said, as he dismissed everyone from the war room.

I stayed seated, staring miserably out the window as the others trailed out of the room.

“Mason,” Harley said.

“Yeah, man,” I replied.

“Look at me, dude,” he said. I looked over at him reluctantly.

“Listen. I know you’re worried. I’m worried, too. But Rebel’s tough and we are gonna get her out of there.”

“Oh, I know that,” I replied. “This is all my fucking fault, Harley, I am so fucking sorry.”

“It’s not your fault at all, Mason, what the fuck?”

“But it is, my friend. If I hadn’t touched her, hadn’t given her a place to stay, she would be long gone and none of this would have happened.”

“Look, Mason, there’s no way you could have known. Stop beating yourself up. We need to focus on getting Rebel out of there, and I’m sure once we give Sergio’s drugs back, it’ll go off without a problem. Hell, I’m sure they can’t wait to give her back. I can’t imagine she’s being a model prisoner.” He smirked, and I laughed with him. He was right. Rebel was a handful, that was for sure.

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Harley.” I looked at him seriously. “Thanks for everything, man.”

“I love you, dude.”

Harley walked over, hugged me, patting me on the back loudly, before turning and walking out of the door.

We left early, determined to get Rebel out of the hands of those assholes as quickly as possible. As we waited in the warehouse, Harley paced back and forth, one hand on his gun and one eye on the door at all times. He was like a tiger, pacing and waiting for his prey, and my stomach filled with dread as I watched him.

Harley was unafraid of most things. It was this fact alone that made him unpredictable. You never knew when he might explode and unleash a fury that would frighten the most hardened of men. It was also why you absolutely wanted him on your side in a fight.

The sound of the back door opening stopped Harley’s pacing. The ten of us stood still as we watched Sergio, flanked by two of his men, walking towards us.

“Hello, gentlemen. Lovely to see you twice in one day,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm.

“Fuck you, Sergio. I can’t believe you would come to my house and take my sister like that. Who the fuck do you think you are? That’s not how we do business, and you stepped over the line big time, you fucking prick.”

“Whoa, whoa there, Harley! I did not come to your house, in fact, I only found out where you lived so that I could deliver your sister’s bike back to you. I trust you received it?”

“Fuck you. Where is she?”

“You’ll get her, don’t worry. But you should know, I definitely didn’t come to your house. Your precocious little sister was here this morning. I’m assuming you didn’t know that by your accusations? I’m not a kidnapper…well, not normally. But when I saw your sister here leave the warehouse right after we did this morning, I seized an opportunity that I just couldn’t pass up. I’m sure you would have done the same thing, am I right?”

Harley looked stunned, and I’m sure my face reflected the same thing. Rebel was there that morning? At the warehouse? How? And, for fuck’s sake, why? None of this made any sense.

Harley glanced over at me, a quick flash of confusion in his eyes before he turned back to Sergio.

“Well, I didn’t know that, Sergio. But fine, whatever. Your drugs are on the table.” Harley gestured to the bag on the table. “Now, where’s Rebel?”

“Very good, mi amigo. I’m glad you understand my position.”

“Where the fuck is Rebel?” Harley’s voice was getting softer, instead of louder, filling with venom and anger.

“Relax, mi amigo! One phone call, and your bratty sister will be brought here. Hold on a moment.” He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, smiling at a glaring Harley.

“Jorge, bring me the girl.”

Sergio listened briefly, and then began hurling a slew of cuss words and insults into the phone. My heart throbbed in my chest when I realized something was horribly wrong.

When he hung up the phone, he looked over at us with a look of anger on his face.

“Your cunt sister has escaped!”

Of course she did, I thought to myself.

“She hit my man over the head with a vase, apparently, and left the penthouse she was at.”

“What the fuck, Sergio.” Harley said, his voice a menacing snarl as he walked over to him.

“I sincerely apologize, Harley. I had every intention of returning her to you. Perhaps my men will find her. They are searching the hotel now. We were in the penthouse of the Crescent Hotel but it appears she was able to leave the suite. If she turns up, I will let you know. But, I’m sure she is already halfway home to you now.”

“Fuck!” I muttered under my breath. If they found her first, I was sure they wouldn’t take such caution with her now that they had the drugs back.

Harley was thinking the same thing.

His face was inches from Sergio’s as he began speaking to him.

“Sergio. This is no joke. You get my sister back to me safely if you find her, you understand?”

“Of course, my friend. We have a deal.”

I couldn’t believe it was happening, but I watched as Harley let them leave the warehouse. They walked out with the bag of cocaine, and I looked over at Harley accusingly.

“I don’t know what else to do,” he said to me quietly.

“She’s always been really great at escaping,” I said to him miserably. I wasn’t sure if I was proud of her, or angry with her for fucking up the plan once again.

“Yeah, she’s a regular fucking Houdini.” He was pissed, confused, and unsure what to do next.

Just like me.

Did we wait? Where? Did we go looking for her?

I pulled out my cell phone to call her. Harley nodded at me, waiting as her phone rang three times before going to voice mail.

“Hey there, this is Rebel…” her voice caught me off guard, and I felt like I had been punched in the gut.

“Fuck. We gotta find her. Now.” I turned, storming out of the warehouse towards my bike.

“Mason, wait!” Harley called.

“Yeah?” I turned.

“Sergio’s right. If she got out of the hotel, and it sounds like she did, then she’s probably on her way to either the clubhouse, your house or my house. I’ll send two of the guys to the hotel to look around for her, you go to your house to wait, and I’ll go to mine.”

“Alright, fine. Fuck!” I yelled.

“I know. Just stay in touch and call me the minute you hear something.”

“Alright, Harley. Alright.”

I raced back to my house as fast as I could, hoping like hell she was there when I got there. But, she wasn’t.

And as I sat on my front porch, impatiently waiting for any word of her, I knew that once I had her in my sight again, I was never going to let her out of it.

Not for a good, long while.

Chapter Twenty-seven

Harley

I sped back to my house, my blood racing through my veins. I had never been so angry, and I didn’t know who I was angrier at.

Sergio, for starting this whole thing in the first place by trying to sell in my territory. Rebel, for somehow thinking it was a good idea to show up where we were conducting dangerous club business, or Mason, for not letting her walk out of our life when I told her to.

She wasn’t there when I got to my house. I called her cell phone three more times, her voice mail greeting cheerfully greeting me each time. I began punching the wall in my bedroom with every thought that ran through my head.

What the fuck was Rebel thinking? I wanted to feel bad for her, I wanted to be worried about her, and for fuck’s sake, I was, but goddammit, if she had put herself in this situation, then I would never forgive her for it.

My knuckles bled as I punched the wall again, Sergio’s ugly face staring back at me. He had looked so smug, and I couldn’t wait to see the blood pouring from his nose after I gave him the first punch of my fist.

I called Mason to see if he had heard anything, but he hadn’t and he sounded even more miserable and angry than I did, if that was even possible. I couldn’t stand to hear the pain in his voice, and I hung up quickly.

I knew he thought I blamed him, and I did. I blamed both of them. Fuck, I blamed myself, too. But right now, there was no time for blame.

We had to figure something out. I couldn’t just sit here and wait for Rebel to show up. I was jumping out of my skin just imagining where she was and what she was going through.

“Fuck!” I yelled, my voice echoing through my house, the pictures hanging on the walls bouncing with each crunch of my knuckles against the dry-wall.

“Where the fuck are you, Rebel!” I screamed to an empty house.

Chapter Twenty-eight

Rebel

I had been hiding under the bed for an hour now, and while I desperately wanted to come out and ask them to politely return me to my brother, I knew that was never going to happen.

Not now. Not now that I had fucked up the situation even more than ever.

As I lay there under the bed, breathing as quietly as I could, I wondered if there would ever come a time when everything I touched didn’t turn to shit. When everything I attempted didn’t fail miserably and embarrassingly.

I was a huge failure, and I always had been. It was no wonder Harley didn’t want to take me when I was twelve. Sure, he went through the legal motions, but I could tell his heart wasn’t in it. He was only eighteen, and he wanted to start his life, but still, I knew that if I had not been such a handful, he would have fought harder to become my guardian.

But I wasn’t that kind of kid. I was a troublemaker, an annoyance, a hot mess that nobody wanted anything to do with. The foster family only took me in for the money, and, as I quickly learned, to be a punching bag for my foster mom, and a secret, forbidden plaything for my foster dad.

And ever since then, I had stayed broken. I kept fucking up over and over, until I had proven to everyone else that I wasn’t worth saving.

Until I had even proved it to myself.

And here I was, once again, the fuck-up that needed saving. Tears began falling down my face, making me angry and even more annoyed with myself.

Why couldn’t I just suck it up and deal with the situation at hand? Why did I always start crying and turn into a sniveling little kid?

I couldn’t believe I was in this situation, and as I got angrier and angrier, the tears fell harder, until I was biting the back of my hand and sobbing into it, desperately trying to not make a sound and get my emotions under control.

I had heard voices from the other room the entire time I had been under the bed, and as I slowly got a hold of myself, and my sobbing stopped, I realized it was now completely quiet in the penthouse. I hadn’t heard the elevator door open, but it was possible it rang, and I didn’t hear it.

I waited a few more minutes, listening to the perfect silence under the dark bed before I slowly lifted the dust ruffle and peeked out. I saw no movement, but my sight was very limited, and I could only see the bedroom doorway from where I was.

Slowly, I wiggled out from under the bed, laying still next to it, waiting and listening for any sign of any of Sergio’s men.

Nothing.

I raised myself to my feet, and slipped off my black boots before taking a step. I walked to the bedroom door and peered down the hall.

Nothing.

Slowly, I tiptoed down the hallway, my heart beating so hard I could hear it throbbing in my head. There wasn’t a soul in sight, and Jorge’s pool of blood had been cleaned up, along with all of the broken glass from the vase.

I had never hit anyone in my life, and I almost felt bad that I had made Jorge bleed.

I sighed a huge sigh of relief when I saw that I was, in fact, alone in the penthouse. I sprinted across the living room as quickly as I could, grabbed my backpack and phone and hit the button to open the elevator.

My hands were shaking as the mirrored doors slowly parted, opening up to the promise of sweet freedom. I jumped in, quickly hit the close button and then hit the button to take me to the parking garage. I was sure that Sergio’s men were still looking for me, and there was no way I was going to go strutting across the hotel lobby in full view.

The garage was my only other choice.

I silently thanked the universe for letting me out of the hotel and dialed Harley’s number with my cell phone at the same time.

He answered on the first ring.

“Rebel!” He sounded so relieved, I smiled.

“Harley! I’m safe. I’m so sorry! I just made it out of the penthouse. I’m so fucking sorry, Har —,” the doors opened, and I stood face to face with Sergio.

“There you are, niña!” he said, the most sinister smile I had ever seen spread across his face, as he grabbed the phone out of my hands.

“Rebel! Rebel!” I could hear the faint of sound of Harley’s voice yelling my name as Sergio put the phone to his ear.

“Hello, Harley. Looks like I found Rebel. We’ll call you back in just a few minutes.” He hung up the phone before Harley could say anything.

Sergio pulled a gun from his suit coat, pushing me back into the elevator as the doors closed.

He stood directly in front of me, his gun pointed right at my heart as he snarled at me.

“You’re a little troublemaker, aren’t you?”

I met his gaze silently, the gun cold and hard through the fabric of my t-shirt.

“I almost feel sorry for your brother to have to put up with a little perra like you.”

“Fuck you.” I said, the gun pressed into my chest scaring the shit out of me, but I was determined not to let him see how much.

“Oh, niña. You are so brave, aren’t you?” He reached out with his other hand, wrapping a strand of my hair around his fingers and pulling hard.

He lowered his voice, his menacing stare turning dark and dangerous.

“You and your brother have humiliated me over and over today. Do you know what I do to people who humiliate me?” he asked.

“Fuck you.”

“Ah, niña, no — fuck you!” he replied, his grip on my hair pulling tighter and tighter.

The elevator reached the penthouse again, and he shoved me back into the suite.

“Sit on the couch, you little bitch. And don’t move.”

He threw my phone on the table, and pulled his phone out of his pocket, punched a few numbers, and put it up to his ear as he looked at me, his gun pointed straight at my head.

“Harley. Sorry to hang up on you like that. Yes, yes, I found Rebel. She’s safe, don’t worry. As a matter of fact, she’s right here in front of me,” he said.

“Yes, don’t worry, you’ll get her back in no time. Unfortunately, there’s been a change of plans.”

“Harley, if you keep yelling, you won’t be able to hear what I have to say.” I could hear Harley’s voice from across the room.

“Good, that’s better. Now, here’s the deal, mi amigo. Your sister has caused a lot of trouble today, for both of us. And she injured one of my men, too. Jorge is still at the hospital getting stitched up. And as you know, Harley, as a businessman, time is money. And your sister has wasted a hell of a lot of my time today.”

“Harley, listen,” he said, waiting for Harley to stop yelling before he continued.

“Here’s what’s going to happen now. I am going to return your sister, in one piece, but I’m going to need a hundred thousand dollars for my trouble.”

My mouth fell open as he looked at me, pulling the phone away from his ear to avoid the volume of Harley’s voice.

“Harley, of course I’m not joking. There’ll be no negotiating. Bring the money to the warehouse in two hours, and she’ll be there. Don’t bring your whole crew either. Just you and Mason. Also, if this annoying little brat causes any further trouble, the price will double!”

Chapter Twenty-nine

Mason

I hung up the phone with Harley, my guts wrenched with worry for Rebel. Now that the cartel had found her, there was no telling what they would do to her. I could only imagine, and I could imagine some pretty horrific stuff.

Shaking off those images, I ran to my bedroom. I pulled everything out of the closet, then pulled the knife from my holster that was attached to my belt. Using the tip of it, I pried open the floorboards, pulling six of them up one at a time. Using both hands, I pulled the portable safe out of my hiding spot.

I spun the dial, entering the combination and opened the door. The bricks of neatly stacked cash made me smile. I had been saving this money for years, and in a million years I had never expected I would use it for this. To save Rebel.

When Harley told me he only had a few hours to come up with the money, and he wasn’t sure if he could get his hands on that much cash in such a short time, I stopped him and told him I had it covered.

I was quiet about my money, but I had been steadfastly saving as much as I could over the years. I had received a small inheritance when my mom passed away, and I had very few expenses. I didn’t trust banks, so I kept it in my closet.

If anyone tried to steal it, they would have had to go through me, and if they made it through me, then I figured they deserved it — if they weren’t dead.

As soon as Harley told me Sergio’s demands, I was happy to be able to help. Harley kept talking about paying it back, but that was the last thing I was concerned with.

I just wanted Rebel back.

I wanted Rebel, back in one piece, safe and sound in my arms. Right where she belonged.

And if it was the last thing I did, I was going to have just that.

Chapter Thirty

Harley

When Mason walked into my house with a black duffel bag full of cash, I gave him the biggest hug I had ever given him.

No matter what Rebel had done to get into this situation, and I still wasn’t clear why she was at the warehouse in the first place, it was up to me and the club to get her out of it.

When Sergio demanded a much larger amount than I would be able to gather in two hours in the middle of the night, I knew I was fucked.

I’d never have imagined that Mason would be able to help out, and yet here he was twenty minutes later walking through my front door, with a big gun on his hip and a huge amount of money hanging from his hand.

“Dude, I can’t thank you enough,” I said.

“Harley, don’t sweat it. It’s just some bills. It’s nothing compared to getting Rebel back. I wanna fucking kill Sergio! That motherfucking prick!” Anger filled Mason eyes, and I knew mine were the same.

I had never been more grateful to Mason, and yet I had never been more pissed in my life. It was an odd mixture — add in the worry I felt for Rebel, and I was a churning mess of emotion.

There was no fucking way Sergio was going to get out of this alive. My plan was to trade Rebel for the cash, and get the hell out of there. And then, when Sergio least expected it, he would be paid back with the full force of the MC.

“So, Sergio said only you and I should come to the warehouse. I have the other guys on alert, they know where we will be, and they will be two blocks away, ready and waiting for a signal for us should we need them.”

“Excellent. Is he bringing Rebel to the warehouse?” Mason asked. “Yeah, fucking Rebel. Jesus Christ, I can’t believe she escaped and then got caught again.”

“I just can’t believe she was at the fucking warehouse to begin with. I don’t know what she was thinking. I never told her any of the details on the meeting,” Mason said.

“Neither did I. The only thing I can think of is that she overheard one of us. Maybe she heard me talking to Johnny at the graveyard, I don’t know. Whatever it was, it was stupid,” Harley said, “and as soon as I get her alone, she’s going to hear exactly how stupid I think it was.”

Mason smirked, shaking his head.

“Well, she’s going to have to listen to both of us. This whole thing is so fucked up, I just can’t even believe it,” Mason said.

“Yeah, I know, dude, I know. C’mon, let’s head over there and get our girl back.”

Mason and I left our cuts in my living room, put on identical black hoodies and loaded our guns. We placed them in our holsters, grabbed the duffel bag of cash, and walked out to my van outside.

No bikes, no loud noises, and it would be easier to get Rebel in the van and out of there as fast as possible.

I was hoping like hell this went smoothly, because I was beyond exhausted and my nerves were raw. If Sergio pushed me too far with his sarcastic bullshit, I wasn’t sure what I would do.

I needed to concentrate on saving Rebel, but damned if I wasn’t seeing red every time I thought about that asshole.

Chapter Thirty-One

Rebel

If Mason and Harley weren’t mad at me before, they sure as hell were now. A hundred thousand dollars? What the fuck did Sergio think we were? Rockefellers?

I was pretty certain there was no way the boys would be able to come up with that much money, and now I had no idea how everything was going to go down.

I was sick to my stomach with worry. Worry for Mason and Harley and everyone else involved. Those two weren’t the type to give up without a fight, and however this all happened, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

Shortly after Sergio and I returned to the penthouse, it filled up with his men. There was no way I was going to be able to escape again, not with ten large men within ten feet of me at all times. Make that ten very pissed off, giant men.

Sergio kept yelling at them, making fun of them for thinking I was gone when I wasn’t, for not searching the apartment properly, for being complete fuck-ups, basically. All at the hands of a “niña”, he kept calling me.

I wanted to yell right back at him, tell him it was all his fault for leaving me with such incompetent idiots, but if he got any angrier, I was certain that the throbbing vein on his temple would burst.

Not too long after that, they loaded me back up in the SUV with Sergio and one of his men, and we made our way back to the warehouse in Deep Ellum.

Part of me was dreading seeing Harley and Mason, knowing their eyes would be full of disappointment directed pointed at me, and the other part was so grateful to be in the same room with them again. I had no idea how I was going to explain everything to them, but I was hoping like hell they had figured something out to get us all safely out of this horrible situation I had created.

When we pulled up, I saw Harley’s empty van already parked outside the door. Sergio’s giant pulled me out of the car so roughly I stumbled, and Sergio yelled at him again. They pulled me along into the warehouse, each of them holding my arms so tightly, I was sure I would be bruised tomorrow.

As soon as we turned the corner, my eyes locked on Mason’s. It was all there. Everything I knew I would see. Everything I hoped I would see, as much as I hated it.

He was a wreck. Quickly, I looked at Harley as he called my name.

“Rebel! Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m —,” I replied.

“She’s fine!” Sergio interrupted. “And she’s lucky about that. Holding on to this girl is like trying to hold a tiger by her tail! I’m surprised you want her back at all, to be honest.”

“Fuck you, Sergio. You’ve got some serious balls pulling this shit, you fucking prick.”

“Business is business, mi amigo. Where’s the money?” Sergio obviously didn’t appreciate being talked to like that, but I was glad he was being all business. None of them wanted to get out of there faster than I did.

I looked at Mason, his eyes glued to me, his hand glued to the gun on his side. He was standing ten feet away and it took all my willpower not to run into his arms. I had thought of nothing but that for days, and I was yearning to kiss him and be alone with him.

Harley handed the duffel bag to Sergio and we all waited, holding our breath, as he opened it and inspected the contents. I gasped when I saw inside — the bag was full of more money than I had ever seen.

“Excellent,” Sergio said, and he suddenly pushed me right into Harley’s arms.

He hugged me quickly, and then pushed me over to Mason. I wanted to embrace him, pour kisses all over his face and melt the hardness that was covering it, but I couldn’t.

The tension in the room was so thick you could have touched it. The look in Harley’s eyes scared me. I had never seen a man so angry and as he stared menacingly at Sergio, I knew this wasn’t over.

I looked back and forth between Mason, Harley and Sergio and Sergio’s man, each of them having pulled out their guns and holding them at their sides.

“Harley, mi amigo, I can see you’re angry,” Sergio said, watching Harley carefully, knowing he was on the verge of exploding. “I’d like to advise you not to do anything stupid, not now, or later. It would not end well. I’m sure you know this.”

“Fuck you, Sergio,” Harley was seething as he fixed his intense gaze on his now enemy.

“Harley, I know this was not an ideal situation. But, it is what it is. And it’s over now. I didn’t hurt your sister, you got her back, I got what I wanted, it’s all water under the bridge. I trust you can respect me as much as I’m respecting you right now. Now, I’m going to walk out and we’ll be in touch another day. Let’s not do anything stupid, shall we?”

Harley smirked, his voice laced with sarcasm.

“Goodbye, Sergio,” he said quietly.

Chapter Thirty-two

Mason

My heart soared when I saw Rebel. It took all my strength not to rush over and pull her into my arms, ensuring she would be safe for the rest of her life. There was no way in hell I was going to let anyone ever touch her again, and I was filled with gratitude just to be in the same room with her again.

But I couldn’t. Not yet. First, we had to deal with Sergio.

When I saw the twitch in Harley’s jaw out of the corner of my eye, I knew this wasn’t over. And I knew it wasn’t going to end without blood on the floor.

The only question was whose blood it was going to be.

I had known Harley since we were kids, and there was one thing that never changed about him. He never let someone get away with betraying him. He was never one to start a fight, but he would never walk away from one that someone else started with him.

And he never lost.

Not once.

Sergio didn't know that, and I’m sure he wasn’t a fearful man, either. But he was definitely underestimating Harley if he thought he was going to walk away from this unscathed.

When I heard the disdain and seething anger in Harley’s voice, I knew it was going to go down now and that he had no intention of watching Sergio walk out of this warehouse.

And I was right.

I shoved Rebel behind me as soon as Sergio turned to walk away. Harley took two steps after him, and pointed his gun directly to the back of Sergio’s head. The click of Harley’s gun echoed loudly, the only sound in the warehouse.

Sergio froze and then everything seemed to happen in slow motion after that.

Instead of slowly turning around as Harley instructed, Sergio jerked around quickly, using his elbow to hit Harley in the face. Harley’s gun went off as he fell to the ground, at the same time that Sergio’s man shot in Harley’s direction, missing him.

I only had one thing in mind, and that was to keep Rebel and Harley safe. She had moved away from me, instead of standing behind me, and I dove in front of her, my gun exploding loudly as I shot Sergio’s man before he could take another shot in Harley’s direction. He turned towards me, his gun exploding at the same time that I hit him. He crumpled beside Sergio just as Sergio fired his gun in my direction.

I didn’t feel it at first.

Rebel was screaming behind me, and a loud thump echoed in my head as my body fell hard to the ground at her feet.

That’s when the burning started. A wet, hot heat radiated through my body and I began coughing and choking as blood began pouring out of my mouth.

The sound of footsteps running away, and the tears falling down Rebel’s beautiful face as she held me in her lap were the last things I was aware of before I drifted away into unconsciousness.

Chapter Thirty-three

Harley

I fucked up.

My exhaustion, my anger, my pride, my frustration — all of it got in the way of any clear, logical thinking I might normally possess — and I fucked up. Bigger than I had ever fucked up before.

As Rebel and I sat outside of the clubhouse, I was chain-smoking and pacing, shaking with fear and worry and the sick feeling of doom settling deeply in the pit of my stomach.

“Rebel, this is all my fault. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I’ve been such an awful brother, and I’m sorry you’ve had to go through all this. I should have taken you away, I should’ve done so many fucking things differently, and this is all my fault.”

I walked over to her, pulling her shaking body into my arms. She was covered in Mason’s blood, and the look on her face was pure shock.

“We’re going to get through this. We’re going to get through it together. You just stay strong, Sis. I promise you, everything is going to be okay.”

I felt like the worst person in the world. What the fuck was I thinking putting the two people I loved most in the world at risk like that? Mason and Rebel were the only real family I had left, outside of the brothers of the club, and it was my job to protect them.

Not open gunfire within ten feet of them because I couldn’t control my fucking anger!

I should have waited. I should have let Sergio walk out of the warehouse and dealt with him later, with the force of the entire MC behind me. Or, I should have just shot the weasly prick in the back of the head without saying a word as soon as he turned around.

But I hadn’t.

And instead, everything had gone so horribly wrong so quickly. And it was all my stupid fucking fault. After Mason went down, I chased Sergio, gunning him down as he ran away, his body falling in a bloody heap outside.

“Shhh, Harley, stop it. Stop blaming yourself,” Rebel said, her arms wrapped around me as we waited.

“I love you,” she whispered, melting in my arms. “He’s going to be okay, right?”

“Yes, honey. Dr. Bob’s going to take care of him. He’s going to be good as new. Mason’s the toughest guy I know, Rebel. I promise you, he’s going to be just fine.”

I had called Bob, our doctor, as soon as I could. Sometimes we needed to call him in emergency situations when we couldn’t go to the hospital. If I took Mason to the hospital, the cops would have been on us in five minutes. We rushed Mason back to the clubhouse and he met us there, bringing an assistant and closing everyone out of the back bedroom as soon as he got there. They hooked Mason up to an IV, and set to work.

We kept Bob on a hefty retainer for his discretion at times like this, and tonight, I knew he was worth every penny. If he could save Mason, I would have given him everything I owned.

When he saved Mason, not if. If wasn’t an option. He had to save him.

I had to keep faith. For Rebel’s sake. For Mason’s sake. Fuck, for my sake.

I couldn’t live without Mason. He was my best friend and as far as I was concerned, he was going to be my brother-in-law, too.

He had taken a bullet for my sister. A bullet! There was nobody in the world that would have done that. No, Mason was a better man than anyone else I knew, and living without him was just not an option.

The fact that he had lost what seemed like galloons of blood in that warehouse was not lost on me, and I was tortured by visions of his blood pouring out of the gaping wound in his chest. Dark red, seeping wounds flashed in the back of my mind as I kept trying to reassure Rebel and convince myself that he was going to be okay, all at the same time.

He just had to. I wouldn’t accept anything else.

Chapter Thirty-three

Rebel

The shaking was what I remembered most from that night.

A deep, uncontrollable shaking that began at the deepest corners of my body, and radiated outward, until it wasn’t just my hands that were shaking, it wasn’t just my thighs, or my feet, it was every inch of my flesh that was quivering in fear.

The other thing I remember is the blood. So much blood, more than I had ever seen in my life. Mason’s blood. And I was covered in it. It was thick and sticky and dried quickly, congealing in streaks and splotches on my clothes, hands and face.

Hours later, when I had finally taken a shower, it took long moments of scrubbing under the scalding hot water before I could get it all off of me. By that time, the shaking had subsided, and I stood under the pelting hot water, watching the blood mix with the clean water and swirl down the drain at my feet.

I never expected things to turn out so badly. When I made the decision to go to the warehouse that day, just to harmlessly watch Mason and Harley, I never imagined in a million years that Mason would be the one to pay for my childish mistake.

I felt like the worst person in the whole world, filled with the deepest regret and shame I had ever felt.

All I could think about was how I was ever going to make it all up to him. How I could ever convince him to forgive me. Not just Mason, but Harley too.

I knew Harley blamed himself, and I felt awful about that, too. I had barreled into their lives and turned everything upside down with my immature bullshit, and I deserved to be banished from their lives, no matter how much I loved them.

Harley and I had waited up until dawn, our hearts wracked with worry as Dr. Bob worked on Mason for hours. When he finally came out to talk us, the sun was rising in the distance.

“He’s lost a lot of blood,” he said solemnly. “I removed the bullet from his chest. It missed his heart, thankfully, but it nicked an artery on the way in, and we won’t know if he’s out of the woods for a while.”

“Can we see him?” Harley asked beside me.

“You can go in and see him for a second, but he’s still sleeping and I don’t expect he’s going to wake up for a while. He’s going to need a lot of rest while he’s recovering.”

“Dr. Bob, thank you so much,” Harley said, shaking Dr. Bob’s hand vigorously.

“It’s my pleasure, Harley. Mason’s a good, strong man, he should pull through.”

I sighed in relief, grabbing Harley’s hand and pulling him into the room where Mason was.

His eyes were closed and he looked almost peaceful. The room was filled with medical equipment - tubes and cords snaking around the floor at our feet as we stood at his bedside, staring down at him.

I grabbed his hand, and planted a kiss on his forehead.

I gasped with joy as his eyes fluttered open. His gaze went from Harley to me, and he smiled weakly.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Shh!” Harley said, “don’t talk, bro.”

“What happened?” he mumbled, his eyes darting around to take in his surroundings.

“You took a bullet, Mason. You saved Rebel’s life. You’re a hero,” Harley said, his voice shaking.

“Are you two okay?” Mason asked.

“Yes, we’re fine, sweetheart,” I replied, stroking his hair and smiling at him through my tears. Maybe he was going to pull through after all, I thought. Maybe, somehow, some way, I would get a chance to make up for all of these mistakes. Maybe if I loved him enough, it would cancel it all out somehow.

“Mason, listen, brother,” Harley said, “Dr. Bob is taking good care of you, and you’re gonna be up and back on your bike in no time at all. I promise you.”

Mason’s eyes fluttered closed again for a second, then groggily he opened them once more, looking first at Harley, and then shining his gorgeous green eyes on me again. I had never been so grateful to see a pair of eyes in my life.

“Rebel…” he said weakly.

“Shh! Don’t talk, it’s okay. We’ll have plenty of time to talk later,” I leaned in and kissed his forehead.

“Rebel…” he said again, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What, my love?”

“I’m so…s-s-sorry,” he struggled to get the words out, but when I realized he was apologizing, I cut him off again.

“Mason, no! You have absolutely nothing to apologize for. This is all my fault! Not yours, not Harley’s. If I hadn’t been irresponsible and sticking my nose in your business, none of this would have happened. No - don’t think for a minute that I’m going to let anyone else take the blame for this.”

“Rebel…”

“What is it, Mason?”

“I was only going to apologize for bleeding all over you,” he said slowly, trying to smile.

I looked down at myself, and realized I must have been quite the sight. Covered in blood, with hot tears streaking down my face, I realized that for the first time in my life, I was thinking about someone else instead of myself.

I didn’t care that I was covered in Mason’s blood.

I didn’t care that I had made a complete fool of myself.

I didn’t care that I was so far away from having my shit together that I couldn’t even see what my future looked like from here.

All I cared about was that Mason was okay, that Mason knew I was there for him, that Mason knew how much I appreciated his courage and that no matter what happened, what our future looked like together, that I loved him with all of my heart.

And I always would.

“Mason, you could cover me in your blood every day and I would jump for joy each time, as long as you pull through this.”

“I think I’ll just cover you in love,” he said, right before his eyes fluttered closed again.

I leaned down and gently kissed his eyelids, his breathing deepening as he drifted back to sleep.

“That’s just fine with me.”

THE END