Chapter 5
REBEL
When I walked into King’s office, the low rumble of conversation cut off abruptly, every eye shifting toward me.
The prez sat behind his heavy oak desk, his face set in its usual stern scowl as he leaned back in his leather chair, his arms crossed over his broad chest. Blaze and Kevlar were sprawled in the chairs directly in front of him.
Cross was positioned near the window, leaning casually against the wall, while Echo was sitting at the conference table.
Wizard and Ace lounged on the couch in the corner, the former with his sharp gaze focused intently on the screen of his tablet.
Blaze smirked. “Nice of you to join us, Rebel. Had us waiting around so long, I thought Kevlar might just put a bullet in your head the second you got here for dragging him outta bed with his woman.”
Kevlar lifted his head, his gaze cutting toward Blaze. “Fuck off. You’re the one over there pouting like someone kicked your favorite puppy.”
I raised an eyebrow, my gaze meeting Blaze’s directly as I moved farther into the room, leaning against the edge of King’s desk.
Since Blaze’s old lady, Courtney, was in California visiting her brother for a few days, the idea of him pouting didn’t seem so far-fetched.
I decided to poke the bear anyway. “You know, Blaze, you missed me that bad, coulda just called. Didn’t have to sit around writing poetry about your feelings. ”
Ace snorted softly, shaking his head as he flipped through a file on the conference table. “I don’t know what’s scarier—the idea of Blaze writing poetry or Rebel actually knowing what poetry is.”
Wizard didn’t look up from the tablet he had balanced on his thighs, his voice flat and bored as usual. “Pretty sure Blaze’s poetry would consist of two words: fuck off.”
Blaze chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Hell, Wizard, that’s my everyday greeting just for you.”
Kevlar cracked a dry smile, glancing at our treasurer. “Still better than the love notes Ace scribbles all over his precious account books.”
Ace lifted his head slowly, the corner of his mouth curving into a dangerous smirk. “Jealousy isn’t a good look, Kev. If you wanted a poem too, all you had to do was ask.”
King cut in smoothly before Kevlar could respond, his voice cool and firm. “Enough bullshit. Cross, fill Rebel in.”
Cross pushed off from the wall, stepping forward and shifting his stance slightly.
He crossed his muscular arms over his chest, his voice deep and serious as his expression shifted back into business mode.
“Had a customer at the garage today, a local real estate agent who brought his bike in for a tune-up. When I finished up, he pulled me aside and told me about an abandoned industrial site in Cedar Hills that was sold to a private security training company recently.”
My spine straightened, my attention fully snagged. That had bullshit written all over it. A company like that, choosing property on the outskirts of Riverstone? It raised every damn red flag in my head. “We know anything else?”
Cross pulled a thick file folder off King’s desk and handed it over to me.
I flipped it open, skimming the pages while he continued.
“Just the basics. But the real estate agent said something about it rubbed him the wrong way. The guy didn’t handle the sale himself, but he did some digging, and he passed along the details. ”
Kevlar shifted his weight slightly, his mouth curved into a thoughtful frown. “Could be legit. Could be a clusterfuck waiting to happen.”
I nodded, taking in the photos and documents in the file.
Cedar Hills was barely a stone’s throw from Riverstone.
Firmly within our territory, even if it wasn’t technically inside the municipal lines.
Our influence extended past official borders, and everyone in the area knew damn well that anything suspicious came to us first.
King’s voice was low as he picked up the explanation.
“Whatever they’re doing out there, they kept it quiet enough to avoid notice until now.
But it still caught local attention, which means something’s off.
Could be nothing, or it could be a situation we need to shut down before it becomes a real problem. ”
Wizard glanced up from his tablet, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “We don’t need any bullshit like that operating unchecked so close to home. Especially not if it’s shady enough to raise red flags for locals who usually mind their own business.”
Ace leaned over his shoulder to scrutinize something on the screen. Wizard tried to shrug him off, but Ace just pressed in closer, his eyes narrowed as he tried to focus on the tablet.
“I suggest you stop trying to cuddle with me, asshole.”
“Fuck off,” Ace grumbled as he rolled his eyes. “Just want to look—” He reached for the tablet, and everyone held their breath. Touching Wizard’s shit without permission was practically like waving a red flag at a bull.
Wizard jumped to his feet, pressing the device close to his chest as he snarled, “Best watch your sticky hands, Ace. I’d hate to make Poppy a widow before you’re even married.”
Ace glanced at King who shook his head with a “you’re on your own” expression.
Wizard looked practically homicidal. “Prez ain’t gonna keep saving your ass if you keep doing the same stupid shit.”
King had talked Wizard off the ledge a few times before when Ace had overstepped Wizard’s boundary. In the past, whatever Ace ended up showing Wizard after manhandling the tech genius’s electronics had helped soothe his ire. But being right would only get Ace so far for so long.
Ace arched a brow and leaned back against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m the fucking money guy, brother. Nobody is gonna put my ass in the ground.”
Wizard growled, and a wicked smile spread across his face. “You don’t need your balls to crunch numbers.”
“Like Poppy would let you anywhere near my balls,” Ace scoffed.
Wizard opened his mouth, then snapped it shut—the wind clearly taken from his sails because the asshole had a point. Pissing off one of the old ladies was a very bad idea.
My jaw tightened slightly as I closed the file and dropped it onto King’s desk. “I’ll head out there tomorrow and take a look around. I’ll clock the security and see if I can cobble together an idea of what their system looks like.”
King inclined his head slightly. “Good. See what you can find. Keep it quiet for now. We don’t want to tip our hand until we know what we’re dealing with.”
I stood from my chair, giving King a curt nod of understanding.
As I left the office, my mind wandered back to my day spent at the orchard, stacking bales of hay and hanging decorations for the fall festival.
But the heat that flared through my chest wasn’t from the work—it was from Clara’s sass and stubbornness, the spark in her amber eyes that wouldn’t leave my head.
I forced myself to push the thought aside for now.
My priority needed to be whatever was going on in Cedar Hills, not the woman who’d crashed headfirst into my life without warning.
But even as I headed back to my bike, I knew keeping Clara Winslet out of my mind would be a hell of a lot harder than anything else I had to handle tomorrow.
I parked my bike about a quarter mile down the road from the property, tucking it behind a thick stand of trees where it wouldn’t catch any attention.
From there, I covered the rest of the distance on foot, the crunch of leaves and gravel under my boots barely audible, even to me.
I kept to the shadows as I moved closer, every muscle in my body coiled tight as my eyes scanned every inch of the perimeter.
The building sat back from the road, half-hidden by overgrown shrubs and chain-link fencing that had definitely seen better days. It was an abandoned industrial site that looked like it had been built decades ago and left to rot—except there was clear evidence of life and movement now.
Vehicles were parked in the lot, some newer models, all with nondescript plates designed to avoid attention. Some were obscured through physical damage or buildup of mud. Others had been intentionally modified to evade cameras, using illegal covers that distorted the identifying information.
Thick cables ran up the sides of the building to newly installed security cameras, angled to cover every possible entry and exit.
My jaw clenched. This wasn’t some typical “security training” outfit—this place had the heavy surveillance of somewhere holding something far more valuable than a few guard dogs and practice dummies.
Crouching behind a thicket of brush, I studied the layout.
My eyes tracked a cluster of men patrolling around the building’s perimeter, their movements disciplined and precise, each armed and alert as if they expected trouble at any moment.
Their postures were rigid, heads turning with trained regularity as they scanned their surroundings.
From their movements, it was clear these men had extensive training, far beyond some simple rent-a-cop security detail.
I noted the timing between patrols and mentally mapped the intervals, filing away the smallest details about their rotations and where their eyes lingered longest. After a while, I shifted my attention toward the building itself.
The lobby windows were heavily tinted, making it impossible to see clearly inside.
But occasionally, I caught glimpses of people moving behind the dark glass, shadows shifting with purposeful intent.
Entry required key card access at a reinforced front door, which was guarded by another pair of armed men whose gazes remained locked on their surroundings like hunting dogs.