Rebel: Bet.
If her room hadn’t been insulated, Rebel’s scream at Kaia’s invitation would’ve brought the roof down. Giggling, she threw her phone on her bed, twirled, clapped, and bounced up and down.
“Okay, okay,” she said, fanning her face, unconcerned that she’d lost her towel and didn’t have a stitch of clothes on. No one could see her, and she’d taken to shoving a stepladder under her door so Diesel couldn’t enter in the middle of the night and watch her like a creepy motherfucker. Not that he would since Daddy put the fear of Outlaw in him.
She inquired about his well-being at the breakfast table and, later, when the family ate dinner. He responded with as much brotherly affection as possible. But he was a control freak. Over text, he told her in no uncertain terms that she needed to ditch the dating app.
Kaia’s invitation removed her annoyance at having to deal with Nyx earlier at the club. She understood why Momma brought that cunt back, but Rebel couldn’t stand that heifer.
As for Narci and Potter, she wasn’t sure if she’d even forgive those assholes. On the other hand, as CJ pointed out once they got home and she went to his room to read another chapter, fair was fair. She forgave Diesel. She needed to give the other guys a chance, too.
Besides, she wasn’t sure if she’d forgiven Diesel or not for his role in CJ’s overdose. In so many ways, she still saw him as amotherfucking asshole. If CJ had died, she would’ve fuckingkilledDiesel. He was supposed to be protect their brother, instead of being led astray by cunts.
Still, worry for Diesel niggled at her. He’d been so strange that night in the forest.
Rebel thought of Kaia. His behavior confused her. How could he like her so much if he lost contact with her so easily? She’d despaired the date he’d promised her would never come to fruition.
Then, suddenly…BAM!Four days after he started calling and texting her again, he asked her out. And for Valentine’s Day, no less.
She’d left her bathroom after her shower and found the first message…
Giddy, she placed her hand on her forehead and fell back onto her bed, pretending to swoon. Flat on her back, she stared at her crystal chandelier, then lifted herself onto her elbows and glanced at her clock on her dresser.
It was after midnight. Her parents were locked behind closed doors and Kaia asking her out for Valentine’s Day didn’t qualify as an emergency.
She’d text Mattie.
Sitting up, her damp, uncombed hair registered, and she scowled. Long hair was such a fucking chore sometimes. If she left it and fell asleep, she’d awaken to snarls and tangles.
First, she’d get her comb, then she’d dial Mattie, and put her speaker on so they could talk while Rebel saw to her hair.
Her course of action set, she hopped off the bed and started toward her bathroom when the sound of a lock disengaging reached her. She froze. Stared at the turning doorknob. Smirked at the inability to push the door open.
In spite of her anger and her father’s warning living in her head, she couldn’tdecide what she wanted to do. What she wantedhimto do. Her heart pounded in anticipation. Would he knock? Or retreat in defeat?
The knob turned again. “Fuck!” traveled through the door.
Fuck whathewanted. What didshewant? This was about her, not him. No matter what guys liked to think, if a girl didn’t want him, he had no say. She’d seen it play out with her parents. When Daddy angered Momma, he couldn’t get back into her good graces untilsheallowed it. She’d seen it play out with the biker girls, and they were there to please the men. Yet, if they didn’t like a particular dude, they ignored him.
The knob turned again.
Rebel sucked her lower lip into her mouth. Waiting. Hoping. Afraid to stay silent and afraid to rush to the door.
If he didn’t knock and she opened the door, wouldn’t that mean she conceded something? She wasn’t sure what Diesel was doing, given the circumstances.
He’d turned weird. Instead of fearing Daddy, Diesel…?
She didn’t know. Except he wanted things his way and he played with his life.
Two minutes passed and the knob didn’t turn again. She chomped on one of her short, jagged fingernails and spat it out. Disappointment bloomed inside her. Maybe she should’ve hurried to the door and opened it.
Her phone buzzed. She rushed to her bed and grabbed it.
Diesel: Open your fucking door before someone catches me.
She didn’t waste time. She ran to her door, removing the stepladder jammed under the knob. Once she unlocked it and slid the chain off the door, she swung it open.
Diesel wore only pajama bottoms. His hand was no longer bandaged, but an angry wound between his thumb and index finger looked quite painful. It didn’t seem to bother him, so Rebel didn’t mention it.
