Chapter Fourteen

Bright and early the next morning, Rebel sat near her father and brothers in the same hospital waiting room they’d been in two days after Christmas, awaiting the end of her little sister’s surgery. This time around, Jo’s life wasn’t in danger, so there weren’t as many people there to support her family.

Sitting in the same seat he had that day, Daddy glanced toward the hallway every minute or so. Probably for Momma. She’d disappeared ten minutes ago, throwing Daddy a violent look, then standing and stalking away.

Rebel couldn’t help but wonder if the long night those little fuckheads instigated was catching up to them.

Daddy moved Uncle Johnnie to another room because he didn’t want ants to eat him alive. Personally, Rebel liked the idea of the murderous mice. Instead of sugar, they should’ve used peanut butter. It wouldn’t have been as easy to wash away.

Momma, Aunt Zoann, and Aunt Kendall spent hours ungluing that motherfucker when Rebel was all for burying him in a hole and leaving only his honey-covered head visible.

It was telling that Daddy didn’t punish the Triplets. Rebel thought he secretly liked their creativity.

Next to her, Diesel stretched out his long legs. Like the last time, Rebel sat between him and Grant, who was the only cousin there since the others were at school.

Chewing on a fingernail, Rebel chomped it off and spat it out.

“Do you know the human bite has enough force to sever a finger, Reb?” Rule asked, staring at her.

Daddy dragged his attention away from the hallway and lifted a brow at Rule. “Ain’t I fuckin’ told you this mornin’ not to fuck with Rebel?”

Rule glanced at CJ. “Snitch.”

“Better your brother a goddamn snitch, then you a motherfuckin’ corpse,” Daddy snapped. “You call you sister out her fuckin’ name or any of the bullshit CJ told me and I’m breakin’ you in two. Call your ma anyfuckinthing but Ma or Mama and I’m sawin’ you in two.”

Next to her, Diesel straightened.

Rebel snapped her brows together. “What am I missing?”

Diesel glared at Rule. “Nothing to worry about, little sister.”

The anger wafting from him implied there was a lot to worry about. Grant bounced his leg in agitation. CJ clenched his jaw and the Triplets shifted in their seats.

“I’m not insane, Dad,” Rule said into the tense silence. “I don’t need inpatient therapy.”

“You need somethin’, son,” Daddy said flatly.

“Uncle Christopher, did you get my message?” Grant asked as Dad dialed a number.

In the distance, the elevator dinged.

“What message?” he asked off-handedly. “Maybe you sent it to Megan by accident. Our numbers differ by a digit.

Grant’s eyes widened as Mom walked into the room, carrying a Styrofoam cup of coffee in each hand and Don’t Hurt Yourself by Beyonce blasted from her cellphone, which was tucked under one of her arms.

Hanging up the phone, Daddy scowled at her. “I hate that fuckin’ song.”

Mom shoved one cup at him and sniffed. “Do not insult Queen Bey.”

Accepting the coffee, Daddy threw her a dark look. “Since when are you part of the fuckin’ Bey Hive?”

“Put some respect on that name.” Mom plopped in the seat next to Daddy and set her coffee on the nearby table. “Or we will swarm and sting you from head to toe.”

“Change that fuckin’ ringtone, Megan.”

“Bite me.” Momma snatched a magazine, flipping so hard Rebel thought she’d tear a page. “The song is fitting.”

“So you tellin’ me to kiss your motherfuckin’ ass?”

“If the verse fits, own it.”

“If this bullshit still about Torie, I’m fuckin’ sick of it. You not a jealous bitch, Megan.”

Torie?

“You above all that! You know me.”

Slamming her phone against Dad’s chest, Mom stood and stormed away.

Daddy jumped to his feet. “Get back here!”

“Fuck off, jerk,” Momma yelled, shocking the ever-loving fuck out of Rebel.

Setting his coffee next to Momma’s, Daddy glanced at her phone and studied it. “Fuckin’ motherfuckin’.” He glared at Grant.

“Sorry, Uncle Christopher,” he mumbled. “I thought it was you I was sending the text to.”

“Tell me you didn’t mention Torie.” CJ snatched Momma’s phone from Daddy’s hand, but didn’t bother to look at it, too focused on Grant.

“I just said that we’d do a better job with this than we did hiding Torie.”

“With what?” Rebel demanded, ignoring the collective groans of her brothers.

Daddy’s gaze flew to hers and he flushed.

“What—?”

The dinging elevator interrupted Rebel’s question.

“Fuck!” Daddy charged into the hallway. “Don’t get on—”

The faint sound of closing elevator doors reached Rebel.

Daddy snatched his own phone. “Bishop,” he said a moment later, “don’t let Megan leave this fuckin’ buildin’.”

Without looking back, he rushed away.

While her brothers tried to laser Grant, Rebel searched each of their faces. Every one of them, including Grant, avoided her gaze. “What the fuck’s going on?”

“Who cares?” Axel beamed. “Mom cussed!”

“Mom’s cussed before,” CJ said around a yawn, throwing Rebel an uneasy glance.

“She has?” Ransom asked.

Rebel couldn’t ever remember their mom using foul language. In the scheme of things, that didn’t matter. What drove Momma to yell an expletive at Daddy did. “Has Daddy cheated again with that bitch?”

CJ gave her a severe look. “Dad didn’t cheat before.”

“Not physically,” Rebel conceded, grossed out at that thought. She’d forgiven her father, mainly because Momma had, but she’d replayed her father’s behavior in her head too many times to count. There were too many inconsistencies for him to be completely innocent, so she’d determined if he fucked up again, she’d never forgive her father. No matter how Momma felt.

“Look, Reb.” Grant handed her his phone, showing her a clip of a prank phone call. Diversionary tactics.

Despite her annoyance, she laughed at the video.

“I’m returning to Boston next week,” Grant started, pocketing his phone. “I probably won’t be back until Mother’s Day weekend. I was wondering if you wanted to catch a movie and grab a bite to eat.”

Diesel stiffened, but kept his mouth shut.

Rebel frowned at Grant. He was tall and built with an athlete’s body that didn’t meld with his preppy look. He’d gone from being a cute boy to a handsome guy. If she didn’t have her heart set on Diesel, she would consider giving Grant a chance, but she would likely encounter major resistance. Not only from Daddy and CJ, but Diesel too, because—

Her brows snapped together. Instead of pitching a hissy fit, CJ watched her as closely as Axel, Ransom, and Ryder. Meanwhile, Diesel sat like an overfilled balloon, ready to fucking pop. Voicing zero objections.

She jumped to her feet, kicked Grant’s ankle and thumped Diesel’s forehead. “Fucking assholes!”

Diesel stood, forcing her back, not carrying about her proximity. “Shut the fuck up, Rebel. You’re lucky you’re going on this date. Which, incidentally, I’m completely against.”

“You don’t have a say!” she fumed.

“As your brother, I have input.”

“You fucking think? If this was your boneheaded idea, I’m going to fucking punch you.”

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” Diesel thrust his face into hers. “I’ll put you over my goddamn knee and beat your ass—”

Unintimidated, she looked him up and down. “You’d have to get me over that motherfucker.”

“Fuck, Reb. Should I feel insulted?”

Grant’s attempt at humor infuriated Rebel. She rounded on him.

“No more than me, jackass. These dickheads think you’re the answer to me wanting to go on a date.”

“You’re too fucking young to date,” Diesel gritted, looming large behind her. “Grant’s it.”

“He wouldn’t even hold my hand!”

“You said a date, Reb,” CJ chimed in. “That doesn’t require handholding.”

“Reb, boys put their cocks in their hands,” Axel said gravely.

The idea repulsed her. “Ewwww.”

“That’s how we pee,” Axel told her. “I wash my hands if I get pee on them.”

“I don’t want to hear about your dick, Axel,” Rebel yelled, kicking Grant for laughing.

He laughed harder.

“If it’s left up to you boneheads, I’ll die an old maid,” she cried. They were boys, which meant they were gross. She refused to talk about their disgusting dick habits.

“When you turn sixteen, I’ll take you on a fucking date,” Diesel announced.

“Hey, perv,” Axel said, “that isn’t part of Dad’s plan.”

The little twerp slapped a hand over his mouth

“Axel!” her brothers and Grant yelled.

Rebel gasped. “That’s what you were texting Daddy about, Grant?”

“Reb—”

Not wanting to hear Grant’s explanation, she raised her hands, defeat rising in her gut. Tears rushed to her eyes. Turning, she ran out of the waiting room, past the elevators to the hallway with bathrooms and vending machines, aware of footsteps rushing behind her.

She would’ve escaped into the bathroom, if not for Diesel catching her.

“Reb,” he said, grabbing her hand.

She jerked free and folded her arms. “Go away,” she said, sniffling.

Ignoring her order, he turned her and thumbed her tears, an intensity on his face that Rebel had never seen. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her, their bodies pressed as close together as possible. He smelled of the expensive cologne he favored, mint, and cigarette smoke.

“You’ll date in time, sweetheart.” He tangled his fingers through her hair. “You aren’t ready now.”

She leaned back to scowl. “According to you.”

“And Uncle Christopher. And CJ.”

“That isn’t fair. Everyone has gone on a date but me.”

Relaxing a fraction, he smiled, dropped his arms and put a little space between them. “I doubt that.”

“I thought you’d be on my side.”

“Whether you believe me, I am. Grant was the best option.”

“Who were the candidates?”

“Mark JB, Chance Mason—”

“They’re younger than me!”

Diesel ignored her. “Bishop.”

Rebel smiled. Last night was the first night in weeks that the biker held a decent conversation with her. “I’ll agree to this stupid way to control my life if Bishop takes me on a date.”

She liked him, and he liked her. She might even get him to kiss her.

“I will fucking kill Bishop before I ever allow him to take you out. You’ll wrap him around your little finger and make him forget the mission. Or, worse, undress in his presence,” he added darkly, his nostrils flaring. “Then I will have to carve out his eyeballs first.”

Pursing her lips, Rebel cocked her head to the side. He hadn’t let go of his anger since Grant asked her out. Discussing Bishop only deepened it. Then it hit her. Diesel was jealous.

She was enjoying herself. Of all the reactions she’d expected, it wasn’t that one.

“Grant has a cock too, you know?” she said with a half-smile. “I bet I’d also convince him to use it on me.”

Fury lit Diesel’s eyes. “You’re playing a dangerous fucking game, Rebel,” he warned, low.

“I want to have the freedom to choose my own fucking dates, jackass. There are very cute boys at school. They won’t talk to me over two or three minutes because of CJ. That isn’t fair to me.”

“If you accept my terms, I will take you on a date the week after you turn sixteen,” he reiterated, not commenting on the CJ’s interference.

“If you’re not waiting until I’m eighteen, when I am legal, why not take me now?”

“It’ll be your Sweet Sixteen, Rebel.”

Diesel glowered at her. Trying to intimidate her?

She scowled back.

“It’ll be a special date from me.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “From…from your big brother.”

His emphasis was interesting, almost as if he was trying to convince himself that he was her big brother. “Why a week later?”

“Aunt Meggie is already planning your sixteenth birthday party, Reb.”

Momma would. It was a milestone, and she’d want Rebel to have a huge Sweet Sixteen to celebrate.

Rebel grinned, tickled, wishing there was a way she could skip her fifteenth birthday for more reasons than one.

“What are your conditions, Diesel?”

“Only one. You cannot go out with anyone else until then.”

The dickhead was playing her to have his fucking way. Or maybe it was at her father’s command. They’d already established Daddy would kill him or anyone else who dated Rebel against his wishes. She could see them conspiring and deciding to dangle in front of Rebel what she wanted the most.

A chance with Diesel. Him to see her as something different from merely his little sister. Daddy would never agree to that, but he would use that information to get his way.

She laughed in Diesel’s face. “Not on your fucking life will I agree to those terms.”

“I thought you’d be happy I’m throwing out all my fucking morals.”

“Oh please, motherfucker. You have very little morals and even fewer skills of reasoning. Case in point? The bitch you married.”

Diesel’s gaze flitted across her lips before he quickly averted his eyes. “I’m not playing with you, Rebel. I promise this is completely my idea. Just calm yourself with the fucking dating.”

That intensity was back on his face again. She didn’t understand all the emotions she saw, but she clearly recognized his shame and resignation. For the first time, she considered he might’ve spoken the truth.

Still, she felt no victory. The deaths of Billy and Eric would haunt her for days. Mainly because of Diesel. If her father hadn’t urged him into this wild invitation, then…then…

Confusion settled into her. Yesterday changed her yet again, in a different way from Jo’s birth.

“I-I don’t want you hurt.” Or killed. “So I-I can’t.”

“Because of Billy and Eric?”

“Yes,” she croaked.

“Did you really intend to fuck him?”

She flushed at the harsh question.

“You did, didn’t you?”

“What do you want me to say? I don’t owe you apologies or explanations. You’re my brother, not my father.”

“I’m not your fucking brother.” He snapped his mouth shut and heaved in a breath. “You’re the most frustrating little minx ever, Rebel.”

“Oh no, dickhead. Don’t blame your twisted logic on me. Either you’re a stupid motherfucker or a contrary one. You pitched a fucking fit when I said those exact words. You’ve said them and now you’re backtracking. Confused much?”

He glowered at her.

She flipped him off.

“Tell me this fucking instant, Diesel. Are you or aren’t you my goddamn brother?”

“You know I am.”

“So you want me to wait to go with you for burgers and a movie until I’m sixteen? Then you’ll take me out as your little sister?”

“Yes. Didn’t I fucking say that?”

Indeed, he had. But the more she thought about it, the less she believed him. She laughed again. “You’re playing me.”

“I’m not,” he swore. “Also, no birth control. You cannot have sex now. When you turn eighteen, CJ, Uncle Chris, and me will find you a good guy.”

“You must be out of your fucking mind. The three of you aren’t dick checking my life. No one pussy checked you, fuckface. None of you. You’re giving me the same fucking courtesy.”

“No—”

“I’m not asking you. I’m telling you. No one is controlling me or my life, especially after I turn eighteen.”

He gritted his teeth. “I’ll take you on a date when you’re sixteen. If you haven’t gone out yet and if you aren’t on birth control.”

“On or off, if I want to have sex, I will.”

“Even Tabitha knows how far to go with me.”

She punched Diesel’s arm. “Do I look like that bitch to you?”

He ignored her question. “Stop being so fucking difficult and capitulate.”

“I want it in writing,” she said, testing him. Still not trusting Diesel not to be working with her father.

“I refuse to leave a fucking paper trail.”

It was looking more and more like Diesel had deviated from her father’s plan. Whatever it might’ve been.

“I have a counteroffer.”

Diesel stiffened. “No—”

“I go on my first date with you when I’m sixteen. For my eighteenth birthday, you take my virginity.”

“What?”

“And we put it in writing.”

“Fuck no! Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Then I’m done discussing my life with you.” She started around him, but he grabbed her arm and snatched her back in front of him. She refused to back down. “I’m not listening to anything else. We have no deal.”

“First, if I can’t take you out on your first date for whatever reason, I don’t trust you not to show Uncle Christopher.”

“Then, dickhead, I suggest you don’t fuck over me. I will be sixteen for twelve fucking months. You have a lot of time to carry out our plan. But if you want my agreement, you’re giving me something in writing. Otherwise, I’m going to choose my own fucking dates.”

Diesel cursed.

She’d make it easy for him. “The age of consent is sixteen here, so you taking my virginity when I’m eighteen will be quite legal.”

“Just because it’s legal, doesn’t mean it’s right.”

“Just because it’s illegal, doesn’t mean it’s wrong, Diesel,” she countered.

“You’re a spoiled fucking brat.”

“And you’re a stupid motherfucker, so we’re even.”

He scowled at her.

“Your window of opportunity to secure my agreement is rapidly closing, dickhead.”

“I’ll sign if you change the terms. We’ll revisit what you’re requesting of me for your eighteenth birthday during that first date. You might see things differently in the next fifteen or sixteen months.”

He might be right, so she’d conceded. Besides, it would be easier to plan her offense. Diesel was smart. He’d find a fucking loophole to weasel his way out of their agreement. Even the date. Until she’d paraded in front of him in only her socks, he’d forgotten she existed. He’d moved out of the house and he was done with her.

“Mom and Dad are back,” CJ announced, walking into the small hallways. He glanced between her and Diesel and sighed. “Jo’s in recovery. Her surgery was a success.”