Finally, hours later, Trevor lay in bed with Rebel snuggled into his side. Her head tucked into his shoulder, her arm thrown over his chest, one of her legs crooked over his. They were both naked under the sheets. It was pretty damn wonderful to have her back.

He lay quiet though, not able to feel fully at peace. His woman was safe, but another woman wasn’t.

It weighed heavily on his mind. He’d looked everywhere for Kati. They’d all looked everywhere. No stone had been left unturned. Every possible scenario talked through. They’d raged, cried, yelled, planned. Eventually, there’d been nothing more to do at the lodge, Kati’s trail had run cold. So now, they were back on the farm, bringing with them the quiet girl who looked like she wasn’t old enough to drive, who hadn’t said a word yet, the one Smith had probably fucked up so bad she’d need years to recover.

Everyone returned home, except for Kati. Kati was lost and they had no idea which of those bastards had taken her and which way they’d gone.

Tiana, Krissy, Adam, Christian and Justin, were already planning a new search party, pulling out maps and making plans on areas to cover. They weren’t giving up. No one was giving up.

He exhaled, his stomach twisting at the realization of how easily that could have been Rebel, lost to him.

“Trevor?”

He blinked, broken out of his painful reverie. “I’m here, babe.”

“I just want you to know…I’m sorry I didn’t trust you enough to tell you about the baby,” she said softly.

His brows furrowed, surprised at the topic of conversation.

“It’s okay. I didn’t exactly inspire trust.”

“But you did,” she sat up in the bed pulling the sheet up over her tits, her hazel eyes bright with emotion. “You did, and I didn’t see it.”

He placed a hand on her hip, carefully avoiding the blue sling that was still on her arm. “Rebel, you don’t need to say this. Let’s remember I have a swastika tattooed on my neck. You were right to question that.”

She took a deep breath and met his gaze. “After today, after all that happened up on that mountain…it’s making me remember how this could all be gone in the blink of an eye. I need to live every day to the fullest. That means I have to make sure I don’t leave anything unsaid. So, like I said, I want you to know that I’m sorry, I really am, that I didn’t trust you enough to tell you I was pregnant. I kept pushing you away.”

“Rebel, you were in my bed, letting me fuck you blind, in my arms every night. You introduced me to your girlfriends and to Justin as your boyfriend. You were right there with me.”

Her face burned red. “You noticed that?”

“Sweetheart, I notice everything.”

“I’ve never really had a boyfriend before. That’s why I’m so terrible at this. I’ve had hookups, lots of those, but I’ve never really let a man in close. It always seemed that when I would start to soften and think that way, that maybe someone could be a keeper, he’d immediately do something dumbass, like cheat on me, sell stories and pictures to the magazines, start asking for a loan, shit like that. It got to the point where I considered men to be either friends or location affairs and never the twain shall meet. I didn’t think I’d find a man I could rely on. I didn’t think they existed. I’ve just had nothing but bad luck with men in the past and I was unfortunately judging you against that, the men I used to know, thinking you’d treat me like they did, sort of waiting for it.”

“You’d started to soften, to trust me, see that I was different, and then I snatched it away?”

“Yeah,” she answered. “Yeah, it hurt. I thought you might be the one. A man I could count on like I could count on women, or my family, like that. And because of that I was about to tell you about the baby, I swear, then I found out…”

“You found out I was like the rest of those fuckers, but only worse.”

“Well…”

“I’m not going to lie to you anymore, Rebel. I was the worst of the worst. Your worst nightmare. I was raised with murderers and racists. My father was the head of our local Aryan Brotherhood. I grew up in the mountains around here, with drug dealers. When I was a kid my father was in and out of prison, but when he got out he established a ring of pot-growing operations hidden in the mountains. He worked closely with the Mexican cartels. So, while other people were getting dressed up and going to church on Sunday mornings, at my house there were usually stacks of money, guns, bags of marijuana and Mexican drug runners all busy funneling drugs to the stupid Americans. It was a crazy way to live. My mom finally managed to get away for good when I was a teen. She’d never really been into that lifestyle and had enough of Dad’s beatings, his other women on the side. She tried to get me out of there too, but I wouldn’t go. I was in too deep…thought I was the heir apparent, a badass in the making. My dad was rich, nice cars, nice everything, no one gave him shit, and I could be just like him? Why would I give that up?”

He thought back to what happened to Jenny, how his Dad had treated his mom, to the young traumatized girl they’d brought back from the mountains who wouldn’t speak, and to Kati…and how many people he’d “helped” on their road to drug addiction…and felt a burning shame in his gut. A twisting, bile-inducing sensation. Right there was the reason why he should’ve given all that shit up, long ago. Living a life hurting others was no life at all.

“Which of these tats are the ones that Justin saw? The ones that made him angry?”

“This one”—Trevor pointed at the swastika on his neck—“and this one”—he pointed at the four-leaf clover.

“You know, I knew the swastika on your neck couldn’t be anything good, because who walks around with a swastika on their neck? But because you’d told me not to ask about your past and judge you for who you were now, I just kept watching you, waiting for you to act like a racist asshole. But, when you never did I assumed this tat was something stupid you did when you were younger and regretted now that you’re older. You told me you regretted it, remember?”

“That basically sums it up. The swastika symbolizes joining the Aryan Brotherhood. The four-leaf clover told the other inmates I’d killed for the Brotherhood and that I would again, so stay the fuck away. I wish I could remove them. I’ve sat here, in this room, with a knife to my throat trying to figure out how to get these fuckers off my skin.”

“We have to learn to live with it. Remember, you’ve changed completely.” She leaned over and kissed his neck, on top of the former mark of a murderer. “The old you is gone, they’re now here to show the world the new you.”

He stared into her eyes and swallowed against the lump in his throat.

“I’m not kidding,” she said. “If someone asks you what these mean, you say that was the past and they’re meaningless now. And I’ll be standing right next to you to vouch for that. And so will Justin, and Krissy and all your friends out there.”

A tingling sensation spread across his chest. He smiled. “You’re amazing.”

“You said that going forward I can be whoever I want to be. Well, so can you. It was wrong of me to judge you for your past. You never did that to me and I did it to you. It was hard, because,” she swallowed, her eyes wet, “because of what happened to my brother. But now I know who you really are.” She placed a hand over his heart. “In here, this is who you really are. And I see this person, clearly.”

“You remind me of my mom,” he said thickly. “Back when she was with us and I was young, and my dad was home and sometimes things were good. You remind me of her. Your personality. You’re both sweet and fierce at the same time.”

She blushed, an attractive shade of pink across her delicate cheeks. Damn, she was beautiful. He was so fucking lucky to have this woman, he couldn’t believe it was real.

“Tell me about your family. You said before you wanted to be just like your dad. Did you…did you used to treat women the way he treated your mom?”

“No,” he said emphatically. He shook his head, his jaw clenched. “No. That was one thing I did different. He and most of the other guys, they treated women like crap. Smith was part of our gang, he was the instigator of that abuse. Slapped their old ladies around. Punched them, kicked them, raped them. It was disgusting. Not all of them were like that. But some of them. I didn’t raise my hand to a woman. Ever. The guys I was closest to in the gang, they didn’t either. I saw what it did to my mom and I didn’t want that. And my sister—”

“You had a sister? Oh no. Did she get out too?”

“Yeah, my mom got her out. But she ran away and came back. She’d been too young when she left to remember how bad it was. All she knew were the scary stories Mom told her. She went through a rebellious teenage phase and ran away from my mom, straight to my dad, thinking my mom had been lying to her, just trying to keep her from her brother and father, not realizing that Mom had instead been protecting her. By then, Dad was edging towards retirement, grooming me to take over. Jenny was only sixteen, beautiful and reckless. I’d almost had her talked into going back with Mom. Was about to buy her a plane ticket. I took her into my house so I could keep an eye on her, but Dad came over with his “friends” when I was out working. He brought some of the worst guys in our gang, the type of men I wouldn’t have wanted Jenny in the same room with. Smith was there. They were all drinking, got Jenny drunk too. Dad passed out and the other guys, including Smith, they gang raped her. Beat Jenny up and left her unconscious. I came home and found that shit. Found out my dad hadn’t protected her, had let his friends fucking gang rape his own daughter. My own men had the nerve to rape my sister in my own damn house! I fucking lost it. It was a blood bath. I…I shot my dad. Killed him in my front yard.” He paused. “Sorry, is this too much?”

“No. No. I understand. Really I do. I just…Smith raped your sister? He deserved everything that happened today and more.”

He grunted. “Exactly.”

“So, what happened after you killed your dad?”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly in a state of mind to cover that shit up, so of course the cops were called and I was arrested. The cops were only too happy to get me behind bars. They’d been trying to take down my dad’s organization for years. So yeah, when the outbreak started, I was locked up in Avenal State Prison, for murder. I’d been in Pelican Bay for two years and Avenal for one year when the end happened and I was able to walk free.”

“What changed, Trevor? What made you want to be different? Because, just the fact you were let loose didn’t mean you needed to be different. It could have been more of the same. The guys up here certainly proved that.”

“Having your own men beat and rape your sister in your own home, with your father right there, sleeping through the whole thing can change a person’s outlook. After that, I didn’t trust anyone. In prison I renewed my membership with the Aryan Brotherhood, I killed for them once to prove I belonged, because if you’re not in a gang in prison, you’re dead. No exceptions. Besides, the guy I killed was dead in the eyes, a pedophile who’d murdered one of ours behind bars, so I figured I did the state of California a solid that day, greasing a lifer they didn’t have the balls to put down themselves.”

“So basically I was a badass with a reputation that meant other assholes left me alone. I studied in prison, worked on a college degree, learned a lot. And while I was in there I was thinking. Thinking more than I’d ever had a chance to in my life. Thinking about how if I had it to do over again, I’d do it all different. I would try for a decent life. A life where no one got hurt. Where I was around people who I knew I could leave my goddamn sister alone with, come back and find her unhurt and laughing. I’d lead a life where I wasn’t shitting on other people who were different than me, thinking I was a badass. And then one day people started dying. There was panic and chaos in the yard and then finally after a few weeks of being worried they’d leave me locked in there, starving to death, a few of the last sick guards opened the cells. They knew I was still healthy and they needed help. So I helped. And when they died too, I left.”

Rebel held his hand and rubbed her thumb along the pulse point at his wrist. “What was that like for you, honey, walking out of there, free?”

“Amazing and terrible at the same time. I searched for my mom and sister, but couldn’t find them anywhere and finally had to assume they were gone like everyone else. Then I went crazy with the freedom, the fact that no one owned anything anymore and everything was up for grabs, so I went materialistic for a while, walking in wherever I wanted to take what I wanted was heady for a few days, then it got old. Being alone got old. Then a week into it I met Christian, so at least there was someone else.”

“I felt that way too at first. Maybe not as materialistic as you because to be truthful, being a movie star came with some pretty amazing perks, so I was used to living like that anyway, but even for me it was pretty heady being able to grab the keys to any car I wanted. You know I was driving a Maserati for a while there? I’d always meant to get a Maserati one day…”

He held her tighter. “Jesus, a woman after my own heart. These do-gooders around here have no freaking concept of luxury.”

“Yeah, I noticed. Did you get a load of that late model Toyota Camry of Sebastian’s?”

Trevor laughed. “It’s a piece of crap.”

Rebel climbed onto him, straddled his lap and shoved her breasts against his chest. He helped her to balance, careful not to bump her arm. “Oh honey,” she said. “I can’t tell you how much I love your classic Mustangs. And your Harley.” She ran the fingers of her good arm down his sleeved tats. “And your tats,” she sighed. “These colored tats on your arms are hot.”

Trevor grinned because shit yeah, he knew they were badass. He might have crap on his neck but the tats on his arms had been done by one the best artists in LA. They’d cost a fuck load of money and they were worth every penny.

He pulled her forward and licked her chest, like the possessive bastard he was. He needed to feel her, taste her. She was his. Only his. “I feel possessive of you. From now on only I get to fuck you.” He looked up and met her eyes. “I own your orgasms.”

She sucked in a breath. “Have you always been like this with women?”

“No, only with you. You bring something out in me I can’t explain.”

“Really?” She smiled.

“Really.

I’m putting a ring on your finger so any fuckers we meet know you’re mine and to keep their fucking hands off you.” And he reached over and tugged open the nightstand drawer and fished out that black ring box.

Rebel giggled. “There’s no need for marriage, Trevor. I know Rachel and Adam did it, which is sweet. But if you’re just asking me because you think that’s what I want since they did it, don’t worry. I’m a big girl. I’ll be okay without it. I know I’ve got you and you love me. That’s all I really need.”

He opened the box. She gasped, tears in her eyes. It was the biggest diamond ring he could find. Square cut and platinum. He slid it on her finger, loving that stamp of his possession.

“This isn’t about that,” he said. “This is me staking a claim. I fucking need my ring on your finger. You like it?”

“I love it,” she breathed.

“And here’s another idea. How about you change your name to Rebel Mason?”

“What? Change my name? Why?”

“You’ve been telling me this whole time that you’re not Rebel Case anymore, that the world had ended, so that part of you ended with it. How about you make it official by changing your name?”

“How do I do that? I mean, there isn’t even an office to go that anymore. It seems weird…”

“You just decide to, that’s how. That’s the beauty of living in this day and age. There’s no government. No bureaucracy. We don’t have to ask anyone’s fucking permission. We do what we want. Right now you say you want to change your name and it happens. No going downtown and standing in line A and then line B and filling out three different forms and paying a fee. That shit is gone. Good riddance.”

“Rebel Mason,” she said tentatively.

“Sounds good on you, baby.”

“It does. I’ll do it.”

“You want to get married?”

“It isn’t something I’d ever felt I needed to be complete. I didn’t need to marry in order to be financially secure. I could take care of myself, but…”

Trevor watched her, wondering what thoughts were running in that gorgeous head of hers. Did she want to marry him, or did she think it was crazy talk?

“There’s…There’s something I’ve got to say first… One more thing I need to apologize for. I’m really sorry about what I said when we first met, Trevor. About not wanting to be around anyone who was in prison. I thought about that a lot later and… I think that was very judgmental of me. Also, it pushed you away, it started that chain of events in your mind where you felt you needed to lie to me, present yourself as something other than you were in order to gain my trust.”

What the hell did this have to do with getting married? Did she want to marry him or not? “It’s not a bad rule,” he answered. “Staying away from people who used to be lifers in prison is usually a good plan.”

“Yeah, but sometimes those people deserve a second chance. Sometimes they were wrongfully accused and misjudged, or maybe they redeemed themselves and need someone to believe in them.”

“Or maybe they’re lying assholes trying to gain your trust before knifing you in the back.”

“Um, I’m trying to apologize here and you’re not helping much. I’m telling you I was being a judgmental ass. Help me out here and accept my apology.”

He grinned. “You were right to doubt. Don’t ever think just because I changed, most of the men I once worked with will change too. Not happenin’. They’re basically wild animals.”

“You’re an anomaly?”

“Yes.”

“A sexy beast of an anomaly? A man who wanted to change?”

He grinned. “Yes.”

“Double-checking,” she said.

He cupped her face and kissed her hard. He swept his tongue into her mouth, his lips devouring hers. She held on to his biceps with all her might.

Finally, he pulled back and stared at her with burning intensity. “I’m not proud of things I’ve said or done in the past. People I pounded into the ground, shit I said, everyone I hurt. All I can say is that all that bullshit stopped the moment I chose to take the fall and went down for it. I’m not that man anymore. I’m the Trevor you see now. You know me, you’ve watched me, seen how I treat people now, how I speak to them. You make the call. Do you want to be with a man like me? Do you want to marry a man like me?”

She nodded, tears forming at the corner of her eyes.

“I don’t know how to make a woman happy,” he said to her. “But I’m willing to learn.”

“Don’t worry, you appear to be a fast learner.”

He had her on top, her legs spread out wide over his hips. He reached down and felt how wet she was for him.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said.

“I need your cock,” she announced.

This was no problem, he’d been hard as rock the whole time they’d been talking. He’d been rubbing it along her wet slit this whole time, making sure it was nudged against her clit, priming her, making her ready and on edge.

Trevor gently turned her over onto her back, careful of her arm in the sling. Her eyes darkened and her breath quickened. He rested his hips between her spread thighs and immediately moved his shaft, notching it at her entrance.

“Trevor,” she whispered.

He thrust into her in one smooth motion, balls deep.

She threw her head back and moaned. He reached up for those perfect teardrop breasts and pinched her nipples. Christ, she was perfect.

“Baby, look at me, keep your eyes on me.”

He lifted her legs up and over his shoulders, pushing deep, pounding his shaft as far as it could go, making sure he hit that spot she loved again and again.

“Oh,” she gasped. “I need…”

“I know, baby, I’m giving it to you.”

“Oh God.”

She screamed as the orgasm rushed through her, engulfing her and pulling her in. Trevor spasmed, in the throes of his own release, his hot cum shooting inside of her pussy.

“I love you,” he groaned. “I love you so much, Rebel. I’m never letting you go.” He thrust in again, harder. “Never. Letting. You. Go.”