Rain “Rebel” Crawford
People loved calling me reckless. I guess I couldn’t blame them.
I jumped motorcycles over canals, raced through city streets like I had nine lives, and laughed in the face of danger more times than I could count.
Rules never meant much to me, and if somebody told me I couldn’t do something, I would probably do it just to prove them wrong.
Before she died, Rose used to tell me that our mama always said I came into this world hardheaded.
Rose was old enough to remember Mama in ways I never could, so most of what I knew about her came from my sister.
And if Mama really said that shit about me, she was fuckin’ right.
The funny part was, people confused fearlessness with stupidity.
They looked at the risks I took and figured I had a death wish, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth.
Every move I made was intentional. I knew exactly what I was getting myself into, because fear wasn’t in my vocabulary.
The difference between me and everybody else was simple: I wasn’t afraid to bet on myself.
Life had already taken the person I loved most when it stole my sister.
After that, fear just didn’t carry the same weight anymore.
I learned the hard way that tomorrow wasn’t promised.
Once you understand that, you stop wasting today hiding from life.
That didn’t mean I wanted to die. It meant I refused to let fear dictate how I lived.
I was going to live on my own terms until my last breath.
As I zipped up my leather jacket and slid my gloves over my hands, a grin spread across my face at the sight of my new black-and-gold Kawasaki Ninja.
Its glossy black fairings reflected the morning sun, while the gold accents and matching rims gleamed like they had something to prove.
That bike wasn’t just transportation; it was freedom.
I swung a leg over the seat and thumbed the ignition.
The engine roared to life beneath me, vibrating through my body like an old friend.
A smile tugged at my lips as I twisted the throttle.
The Ninja answered with a deep growl that echoed through the neighborhood before I shot onto the street.
Within minutes, I was carving through traffic, leaning effortlessly into every curve as the wind whipped against my face.
Riding had always been my therapy. Out here, there were no questions about my mama, no memories of my sister, and no ghosts trying to drag me backward.
There was just me, my bike, and the open road.
Eventually, the familiar neon sign for Stone’s Bar came into view.
Instantly, my smile disappeared, seeing that my sperm donor owned the place.
I hated the son of a bitch with every fiber of my being.
If I was being real, I understood why my mama ran from him.
No woman deserved the hell he put her through.
What I never understood was why she left my sister and me behind with him.
That question had haunted me my entire life.
I had stopped expecting an answer years ago, but if I ever got the chance to confront her ass about it, I prayed she would finally give me the closure I had spent my whole life searching for answers.
Unfortunately, closure wasn’t on today’s agenda, but revenge was on that bitch for sure.
After our encounter at the grave a few weeks back, I still wanted to bury that nigga, Titan, for choking me.
My anger continued to burn through my veins as I rolled into the parking lot without slowing much before finally killing the engine.
Without any fear, I climbed off and reached for the custom leather scabbard bolted directly to the left side of my black-and-gold Kawasaki Ninja’s frame.
Most people looked at it and assumed it was made for a rifle, but they were wrong. Mine carried a polished aluminum Louisville Slugger.
I reached down, unsnapped the thick leather retention strap, and slid the bat free with one smooth pull.
The cool metal settled comfortably in my hand as I rested it across my shoulder, ready to do some damage.
People always asked if I was worried about the police.
But naw, I wasn’t because cops had never scared me.
Hell, the man who raised me was far more dangerous than any badge I had ever come across.
Compared to surviving my sperm donor, everybody else was just doing a job.
I slammed the kickstand down and headed toward the front door.
The moment I stepped inside, the music, the laughter, the cigarette smoke, and the smell of cheap liquor hit me all at once, reminding me exactly why I hated this place.
Looking around, I saw people of all ages throwing back drinks like they didn’t have a care in the world.
Behind the bar stood my punk-ass father, talking to some woman with her titties hiked so damn high it looked like she could barely breathe.
The moment he saw me, every ounce of joy vanished from his face.
He immediately stopped talking to her ass and turned his full attention to me.
I slid onto a barstool without taking my eyes off him.
Then I laid my polished aluminum Louisville Slugger across the countertop with a loud clank, making damn sure everybody in the bar knew I hadn’t come for a damn drink.
The entire place went silent as every pair of eyes landed on me. It was all good because I wanted every motherfucker watching. I needed them to know what type of man they were giving their business to.
My father frowned. “Rain... what you doing here?”
I leaned back against the stool, folded my arms, and smirked. “Don’t call me that,” I said. “I told you the name was Rebel.”
“I don’t give a fuck what your name is. Get out. Now. And take that little-ass bat with you.”
I laughed. “Naw, nigga. Why don’t you make me?” I leaned back like I didn’t have a care in the world. “I mean, you do like beating women and all. Hell, you ain’t never had a problem putting your hands on one before. So, what’s stopping you now?”
The entire bar stayed quiet, watching us like they had front-row seats to a damn show.
So, I decided to give them something to look at.
Standing up from the barstool, I wrapped my hand around the handle of my Louisville Slugger and took one hard swing.
The glasses lining the shelves behind the bar exploded into thousands of pieces.
I didn’t stop there and did another hard ass swing.
On impact, bottles of whiskey, vodka, tequila, and rum shattered one after another, sending liquor pouring down the shelves and onto the floor.
Customers screamed, ducked, and scrambled out of the way as glass flew through the air.
“What the fuck!” my father roared from behind the bar.
I ignored his ass and took another swing.
More bottles burst apart as alcohol soaked the floor.
“I said stop!” Titan yelled.
I smiled and swung again before speaking. “Make me.”
That was all it took to make Titan react. He quickly shoved the woman he had been talking to out of his way, pushed through the swinging gate at the end of the bar, and stormed around to my side. His fists were balled so tight the veins in his forearms looked ready to burst.
I grinned at Titan’s reaction.
“There you are,” I said. “I was wondering how long it was gonna take for you to stop hiding behind that damn bar.”
It didn’t take Titan long to prove he wasn’t the one to fuck with.
His hand cracked across my face so hard it sent me flying backward.
I slammed into a table before crashing onto the floor, pain exploding through my jaw.
Despite the pain, I quickly pushed myself to my feet, snatched up my Louisville Slugger, and swung that motherfucker with everything I had at Titan, who ducked just in time.
The bat whistled past his head before smashing into the edge of the bar.
I ripped it free and swung again. This time, that son of a bitch caught the bat with both hands before it could connect.
We struggled for control until I drove my knee straight into his balls.
“Fuck!” Titan grunted, doubling over.
Titan’s grip loosened just enough for me to yank my bat free.
I raised it over my shoulder, ready to cave his ass in.
Just as I started my swing, something slammed into me from behind.
The hit sent me sprawling across the floor, and my Louisville Slugger skidded several feet away.
I looked up to see my father’s longtime friends, Gao and Rudy, standing over me.
Before I could get back to my feet, they rushed me.
At my father’s command, Gao and Rudy grabbed me from both sides.
I thrashed, kicked, and fought like hell to get away from them, but they were too damn strong.
“Let me the fuck go!” I yelled with my mouth dripping blood.
None of the customers came to my rescue, but I didn’t give a fuck.
I was a lone wolf and ready to face whatever consequences came my way.
I already knew Titan wasn’t about to let me walk out of his bar untouched.
He was the type of man who loved using his fists to prove a point.
To him, fear was respect, and pain was power.
Unfortunately for him, I had never been the type to bow down to bullies, even when I knew I was about to lose the battle.
Titan slowly walked over and stopped inches from my face, looking me over like I was a disappointment instead of his daughter.
Just like the bully he was, he grabbed my cheek, his fingers digging deep into my skin.
That shit burned like hell, but I refused to shed a single tear.
Crying in his presence was never going to happen. Over my dead body.