Chapter 45 – Rebel
Momma and Daddy had been gone for about forty-five minutes when Diesel called her and asked if anyone was home.
Unfortunately, she was there alone. Kaia was off running the errands she sent him on for Axel’s birthday party.
Bishop took Gunner to a children’s museum in Portland, the boys were at school, and Aunt Bunny was at her house with Uncle Digger.
Diesel knocked on her door once, then swung it open, walking in as if he owned the world, looking like a million dollars in a black designer suit with black shirt and black tie, his sunglasses resting on the top of his head.
“You’re stretching them,” she said, pointing. It was better than blurting something lame like he was sexy and beautiful, a living, breathing work-of-art. “They won’t fit properly.”
A smile curved his full lips and Rebel bit down on her on. “I’ll buy another pair.
She nodded, catching a whiff of food and realizing he held a bag with the logo of her favorite sandwich shop.
“Do I smell Korean barbeque?”
“You sure do, sweetheart,” Diesel said, sitting next to her and crowding her space. He handed her the bag. “With dirty fries.”
Rebel squealed and tore open the bag. At his rich laughter, she paused to playfully punch him.
“I haven’t had one of these in ages,” she chastised, balancing the two sandwiches on her knees.
She set the basket of fries topped with bits of pork and sloshed with gravy on the coffee table.
“Do you bring fresh squeezed orangeade?”
“I forgot the drinks,” he admitted, unapologetic. “Next time.”
She handed him his sandwich. “Only if we go to the shop and eat.”
Unwrapping it, he took a hearty bite and chewed, thoughtfully studying her before zeroing in on her earlobes. “Only if you take that motherfucker’s earrings out.”
She stole a few fries and shoved them into her mouth, considering how best to answer, definitely not at her optimum to battle it out with Diesel. “They won’t turn my ears green,” she said once she swallowed, suddenly remembering spit or swallow.
Her face flamed. It must be the color of a ripe strawberry but he ignored it, scowling instead.
“He doesn’t deserve you.”
“That’s not for you to say.”
A hawkish look entering his eyes, Diesel bit into his sandwich again.
“Please don’t let this turn into another war between us.”
“If you’re back with Kaia, that means you are forgiving one of the main things you’ve crucified me for. Cheating,” he spat. “Or does it mean, you truly don’t care if he’s with other women. You don’t care if your partner is unfaithful.”
Losing her appetite, Rebel set her sandwich next to the fries on the table and put a little space between her and Diesel. “That isn’t true. I care very much, but Kaia is truly regretful.”
“I doubt that,” Diesel said with a snort, nearly finished with the sandwich, not at all affected by their disagreement. “Fia just haven’t had a chance to fuck him again.”
Hurt and angry, Rebel got to her feet. She still had a limp, but the pain wasn’t as intense, which made it easier to hit the side of Diesel’s head and ease her way from between the sofa and coffee table. He headed her off, meeting her in the middle of the floor and looming in front of her.
“Kaia didn’t buy that fucking jewelry. Your mother did.”
“I don’t care, fuck face,” she cried, an emotional wreck. “He wanted me to have them. He wanted to show how important I was to him. Meanwhile, you can’t even trust me enough not to risk you if we start going together.”
“We are not fucking doing this, Rebel. We aren’t. You’re not risking my fucking cock to have your goddamn way. You’re a spoiled little brat who only—”
She shoved him. “Shut up, Diesel. Okay? Stop saying what I am or am not. It doesn’t matter since I’m not changing your mind.”
Diesel growled, huffed, covered his face, and huffed again, like the fucking wolf who huffed and puffed and blew those houses down.
“Let’s skip everything we’ve already discussed.
Morals. Decency. The law. My castration or death.
It’s a big ask of me that I believe you wouldn’t go ballistic if you walked into the club and saw another woman on my lap. ”
“Why the fuck would she be there?”
“Exactly, Rebel. Your reaction is the exact fucking reason you’d blow my goddamn cover. And then it wouldn’t be for fuck-all except your bruised pride.”
“That isn’t true!”
“The fuck it isn’t. If you’re giving Kaia a pass, I’d expect the same courtesy.”
“I’m not giving him a fucking pass! I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt.
There’s a difference. It matters to me. It would matter to me if you were with another girl.
It matters to me if Kaia sleeps with someone else, but he won’t.
I trust him,” she said, feeling those words to her soul.
“Maybe…maybe…if this hadn’t happened to me.
It did, though. I just want to feel normal again. ”
Diesel’s expression closed, which she hated, because she knew that meant he was shutting down, preparing to hurt her—
Bending, he brushed his lips across her cheek, closer to her mouth then he’d ever been. She swallowed, braced her hands on his chest, and lifted her gaze to his.
He gave her the tiniest smile. “I brought food to you as your big brother. Hoping for a reset of the other night and our inappropriate texts.”
Spit and swallow crossed her mind again. His penis as she’d seen it. Flaccid. She blushed again.
“Neither you nor I can go there,” he told her. “To what we discussed. It’s our secret.”
She knew it had to be and wished she’d never told Kaia. “Okay.”
Once again, he studied her face, his gaze shuttered, his lids heavy. “You’ve given me a lot to consider, sweetheart,” he said, and walked out, leaving her alone to ponder those words.
Rebel only had a limited amount of time to put on a very special birthday party for Axel. Momma never confirmed whether she’d return early, so Rebel planned to go all out for her little brother.
Not long after Diesel left, she took her unopened sandwich and barely touched fries to the kitchen, along with her tablet to continue going through her checklists.
She managed to force the sandwich in her, even though her argument with conversation with Diesel left her with little appetite.
If Axel hadn’t been depending on her, she would’ve stayed in her room and gave into her misery.
She’d just copied another list of items from her tablet and shared it with her phone, pasting it in a message to Kaia, when Bishop walked in and froze.
“Uh, hey, Reb.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he glanced over his shoulder toward the door. “I thought you’d be resting.”
Sitting at the breakfast bar, she sipped lemonade and laid her phone down, smiling at the cute biker.
He had rich brown skin and onyx eyes with a smooth nose that complemented his wide mouth and expressive face.
He had dreadlocks like Uncle Mort and Uncle Digger, though they were shorter.
He’d started growing them because of how deeply he admired his sponsor.
“Are you about to cook? I promise I won’t get in the way. ”
He hesitated before he finally nodded and headed to the refrigerator.
Rebel tracked his movements, admiring the way his jeans hugged his butt and his cut stretched over his wide shoulders. “How’ve you been? It seems like we never get to talk.”
Opening the refrigerator, he studied the contents, keeping his back to her. “We don’t. I’ve been busy here and at the club.”
She waited until he decided to close the doors.
Except he didn’t. He continued staring into the refrigerator.
It was crowded, so she could’ve given him a pass if he didn’t know his way around a kitchen and didn’t follow a set routine.
He planned his menus in advance so he’d know exactly what he wanted out of the refrigerator.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing, Rebel.”
“You’re letting all of the cold air out.” She didn’t know what else to say, so she used one of the arguments she was always given whenever she was little and wanted to play in the refrigerator. “You should close the doors.”
He slammed the door shut but didn’t turn around. After talking to Diesel and still being confused over Kaia, Bishop’s attitude hurt her. Somehow, she refrained from crying. Since Saturday, she’d shed a lot of tears. That had to stop.
She slid to her feet. “I-I’ll leave you alone since you don’t want to be bothered with me.”
Fuck, a sniffle escaped anyway. She had to talk to herself. Right now, she had to get to her room, so she grabbed her phone and her tablet.
“Wait, Reb.” Bishop rushed to where she stood, holding herself together by a very thin thread, and planted himself in front of her.
He shoved his hands into his pockets—again.
“Being friends with you in full view of everyone is nerve-wracking enough. When it’s just you and I in this house, I’m questioning if I like living. ”
“My parents trust you. They know you’ll never hurt me.”
“Meggie and Outlaw aren’t here. Diesel’s the one in charge right now.”
“You and Diesel are friends. Besides, he’ll listen to me.”
Bishop smiled. “I love your optimism. I just don’t want to inadvertently set him off.”
“You want,” Rebel said with certainty, tossing her hair. “He’ll probably thank you for keeping me company.”
Skepticism crossed Bishop’s face, but he smiled again. “I hope you’re right. Why don’t you sit down and keep me company while I find something for the evening meal?”
“Why don’t you prepare a salad with braised chicken breasts, leafy greens, tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, and croutons?”
“A simple meal, but will the boys like it?”
“Hmmm. Probably not. Only Momma can get that meal through. Order two or three pizzas. If anyone asks, tell them that’s what I wanted. Pizza is always a hit and if they get mad, I’ll cry.”
Manufactured tears designed for guilt was one thing. Real tears that she couldn’t control were just unacceptable.
He laughed. “You’d pull out those big guns for me.”