by E. C. Land
I remember before Harmony left for basic. She’d came over to the clubhouse, I was drinking a beer at the bar, and she’d come right up to me and landed a solid punch to my cheek. Told me that I made a mistake by breaking her best friend’s heart. I didn’t need her to tell me this. I already knew, because I broke my own fuckin’ heart at the same time. Harmony had informed me of the fact she has no problem maiming me if I didn’t fix things with Rebel. I have no doubt she would’ve tried her best to make it happen if she was never killed.
After Rebel’s meltdown with the picture she’d received in the mail, I took her into our room and tried to show her just how much she means to me. Once she’s asleep—having passed out from the emotional turmoil and release I’d given her—I call Alanna. I ask her to make sure the rest of Rebel’s week is clear of anything that isn’t important. I already knew she didn’t have any other cases to appear in court for. It’s only a matter of what she needed to do at the office, which Alanna could help with getting rescheduled.
I went back into the kitchen and looked at the picture. I call Hammer, asking him if he could send someone over here to pick it up. We need answers. I also informed him of the fact it’s the same damn photo from ten years ago. I read over the notes attached and put them all back in the manila envelope.
Hammer had sent Ruger over to the house to pick up the envelope containing the very thing that ruined ten years of Rebel’s and my life. I’d asked him to tell Cy to find the bitch in this picture. I can at least say the person in this picture is the one screwing with the two of us. And I’m fuckin’ done.
While Rebel sleeps, I pack a bag for her and myself. She needs a break. The past few months have been a strain on her. I booked us a room at the beach and went to lay down with her. Both of us slept until morning.
Well, I woke to find Rebel hovering over the toilet. I don’t question it, having chalked it up to her being stressed about everything. Then it kept happening the rest of the week while we were at the beach. I have an inkling of an idea of what’s going on with her, but I’m waiting for her to tell me.
Last night we got back home. I have church at the clubhouse this morning, and we’re having a BBQ afterward.
Rebel snuggles deeper into my chest and I grin, tightening my grip around her. “Duchess, you gonna wake up anytime soon?”
“No,” she grumbles sleepily. “I don’t wanna get up. Getting up means rushing to the bathroom to puke or dry heave in the toilet.”
Chuckling, I slide a hand up to brush the hair out of her face and grip Rebel’s chin, forcing her face upward. “Got something you wanna tell me?”
Rebel opens her eyes, blinks, then meets my eyes clearly. “I’m pregnant, and I-I didn’t know how to tell you. I promise I didn’t do it on purpose, and it’s your baby.”
“Shh,” I hush her from going any further into her ramblings. “I figured it out this past week when you kept puking in the morning and didn’t want to drink your favorite wine while we were at the beach.”
“You did?” she blurts out as she sits up, pulling the sheet with her, covering her breasts.
Grinning, I nod. “Yeah, baby, I did. As for this baby being mine. I know that too.”
“But what about . . .” I give her a look, stopping her before she can finish that sentence.
Sitting up, I reach out and cup her cheek in my hand. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Rebel, but I do not ever want to hear about you and another man. As for Grant, I know this baby isn’t his because he wouldn’t be foolish enough to knock a woman up. Especially after growing up with a bitch of a mother like his.”
I don’t mention the fact I spoke to Grant earlier in the week while out of town with her. He’d called to tell me about finding the cameras in his private room at Granger’s club. While we were talking, I’d demanded he tell me if he used protection with my woman. Grant informed me he did, but if I was worried about getting her pregnant, I had nothing to worry about. He wasn’t going to have any kids that were his own.
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know what he means.
“I know, his mother was definitely not right in the head. He told me about her.” Rebel shivers as she mentions Grants bitch of a mom.
“Yeah, well, we’re not talking about either of them,” I grumble, “as I was saying, I don’t want to ever think of you with another man.”
Tears well in Rebel’s eyes as she smiles. “Are you happy about this?”
Leaning forward, I press my forehead against hers. “Fuckin’ thrilled. Now I’m gonna show you just how happy I am that you’re carrying my baby.”
With those words, I capture her mouth in a kiss as I lay her against the bed.
I pull the sheet exposing her tits to my view. Cupping between her legs, I find her already drenched—ready for the taking. Kissing my way down to her breasts, I give each of her nipples attention. Sucking and nipping at one while pinching the other.
“Xander,” Rebel whimpers, arching her back.
Sliding two fingers into her depths, I groan as the walls of her pussy quiver around them. Rebel’s body was made for me, and I love the way she responds to my every touch.
Not wasting any time, I withdraw my fingers and align myself with her entrance. With one deep thrust, I fill her to the hilt with my cock. Rebel’s moans are all I need to keep going. Picking up momentum, I pound her pussy like a man starved for something he hasn’t had for years.
This is partially true, but knowing my woman’s carrying my child sends me into overdrive. Rebel clamps down on my cock as she comes screaming my name. I don’t hold back like I normally do. I continue to fuck her through my own release, not wanting the feeling of her pussy grasping my cock to end.
Finally, I slow my thrust and lean forward, bracing my elbow to keep my weight off of her. “I love you, Duchess. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I love you too,” she whispers breathlessly, giving me one of her beautiful smiles.
I could spend the rest of my life savoring that smile and never take it for granted.
Chapter Sixteen
Rebel
Sitting with the other ol’ ladies in the main room of the clubhouse, we’re all waiting for the guys to get out of church. Since Harmony died, I haven’t had many other friends that are women. It’s easier to get along with men.
“So, how far along are you?” Avery asks, her hands settled on her small bump that’s barely showing.
Rogue had announced it to the room the moment we entered the clubhouse. I didn’t expect him to do it, but to say Rogue is excited is an understatement.
“Um, I honestly don’t know. I need to go to the doctor and find out.” I smile, reminding myself I need to make my appointment.
“This is really great. You both are going to have babies around the same time,” Willow says, excitement radiating from her.
“Agreed, more babies to snuggle,” CJ giggles.
“The guys are definitely going to have to get that playroom finished up,” Avery states and glances around the room before narrowing her eyes. “Great, here comes trouble.”
Twisting my torso to see what she’s talking about—I inwardly groan as one of the slobber-crawlers makes her way over to us.
“Can I help you?” CJ snarks, crossing her arms over her chest.
“No, you can’t, but this bitch here can by leaving. You seem to think you can waltz in here and take what’s not yours. Rogue might have claimed you as his ol’ lady, but you’ll never be enough for him. His appetite for sex is never-ending, and he’ll be coming to me along with the others,” Cheeks sneers, giving me a once over.
“Who do you think you are?” I demand, standing to be eye level with the skank.
“You know who I am. I’m the bitch who’s going to be suckin’ Rogue’s cock just like I’ve done many times before,” she smirks.
I start to say something except Avery beats me to it. But to my surprise, Avery slaps Cheeks. “Learn your damn place in this cl
ubhouse bitch. How dare you think you can come up to any of us and spew trash about our men? You’re lucky I don’t have you banned from this club.”
“You can’t do shit to me,” Cheeks snaps, shooting Avery a glare.
“Oh, I’m sure I can. As Hammer’s ol’ lady, I’m sure he’ll agree with me if I tell him I want you gone,” Avery declares, standing her ground.
“I’m sure the other brothers will back him as well,” Willow says, putting her two cents worth in.
Cheeks’ face flushes, and she stomps away from us, knowing she’s not going to get the chance to make me feel like shit.
Sure, doubt wants to try and set into my mind, but I trust Rogue. As much as I’d like to hold what he’s done in the past against him, I can’t do that to him. We were separated for ten years—I know he wasn’t a saint just as he knows I wasn’t.
I trust that Rogue wouldn’t disrespect me by even contemplating being with another woman. He wouldn’t have married me if he didn’t want me.
Only me.
My phone rings, and I frown as I pick it up to find it’s the office. Swiping my finger across the screen, I bring it to my ear. “Hello.”
“Hey Rebel, I’m sorry to bother you. I came to the office to get a few things done, and there’s a package here for you,” Alanna explains. “Do you want me to bring it to you?”
A package?
I don’t remember ordering anything.
“No, I’ll come there and get it. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be right there,” I say, making eye contact with the other ol’ ladies, noticing their questioning looks. Putting the phone on my shoulder, I explain about needing to go to my office.
“Go, I’ll tell Rogue what’s going on,” Avery says, nodding.
Rogue and I ended up taking both my Jeep and his bike. He doesn’t want to take any unnecessary risks now, knowing I’m pregnant. But he had still wanted to ride his bike since it’s a beautiful day.
“Thanks,” I say, grabbing my keys and putting the phone back to my ear to finish talking to Alanna. “I’ll be right there.”
Leaving the clubhouse, I hop into my Jeep and head to the office.
Parking in a spot directly in front of the building, I shut my car off and head inside. Stepping through the doors, my step falters as I take in the scene in front of me. Alanna’s tied to her chair, head tilted down and blood seeping down the side of her face.
“Alanna,” I gasp, rushing toward her side, but she doesn’t budge. The package she mentions sits in front of her, and I furrow my brow as I take it in. Lifting the lid, it’s all I can do to keep from puking.
The entire box is filled with pictures. Pictures of me by myself, in court, as well as here at the office. There’s some of me with Grant, others throughout the years. A lot of them with Rogue and me. Then there’s even more of Rogue. With other women on his bike. One of them catches my eye, and I’m surprised because I remember that day and know he wasn’t there. The only ones who were, were my mom, my uncle, and Cy.
It’s the day I graduated from law school.
The reason I know this is because the name of the school is right behind him.
Tears prick my eyes to think of him being there that day.
Who took all of these pictures?
Why?
Shaking my head, I grab my phone and start to dial Rogue’s number when something strikes the back of my head, causing me to stumble.
Crying out in pain, I pivot on my heel to see who’s behind me. I chastise myself for not already calling him. Or 911.
Before I can fully see the figure standing in front of me, I’m struck across the face hard enough to send me to the ground. I hit my head hard enough to have my vision go spotty. The person who hit me comes over to stand over me with both legs on either side of me. I blink a couple times, focusing on my attacker.
I attempt to slide back, but the cocking of a gun causes me to go still.
With one hand, the person standing over me holds the gun on me while they use the other hand to pull the hood back, showing their face.
Oh my God.
This can’t be happening.
How?
Why?
There’s no way possible.
Squatting over me, she grins devilishly at me. “You screwed up bitch, I told you to leave him alone.” With that, she pulls the trigger, and everything goes dark.
Chapter Seventeen
Rogue
Finished with church, Cy pulls me to the side to discuss the lead he’s found on the woman in the photo. He had found her, and it just so happens to be a chick who went to high school with us. She was a cheerleader back then.
Sabrina Raymond-Walton.
Worst of all of she’s Judge Raymond’s daughter and married to fuckin’ Walton. The asshole who had tried to take us down months ago.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask, looking up from the papers he’s showing me.
“Positive.” Cy nods, looking deadly. “I also looked further into Sabrina. She has a medical history of schizophrenia. She also has a son she’s named Xander Wolf Walton.”
“What the fuck?” I snarl. My vision starts turning red.
“You heard me,” Cy scoffs.
“Fuck,” I grumble and rake a hand through my hair.
With a shake of my head, I let out a harsh breath. I need to see Rebel. She deserves to know what Cy’s found.
Walking into the main room of the clubhouse, I frown, not seeing Rebel anywhere. Spotting Avery cuddled into Hammer with her son in her arms, I decide to ask her.
“Where’s Rebel?”
Avery meets my gaze and smiles. “Alanna called about twenty minutes ago. Said there was some package at the office that came in for Rebel.”
What the fuck is Alanna doing at the office on a Saturday?
“Rebel went to the office. Said she’d be right back,” Willow adds, joining the conversation.
“Yeah, but it doesn’t take that long to pick up a package and come back,” CJ mutters. “I hope she didn’t let Cheeks’ comments get to her.”
“What comments?” I demand as I pull my phone out of my pocket to call Rebel.
“Cheeks tried to tell Rebel she wouldn’t be able to satisfy your needs,” Avery says and looks to Hammer. “I may have put her in her place by slapping her.”
“Good for you, Sunshine.” Hammer chuckles, pressing a kiss to his woman’s forehead.
I pull up Rebel’s number. It goes straight to voicemail.
Shit.
“I’m gonna go check on her. Something doesn’t feel right,” I say, shoving my phone back in my pocket.
“I’ll come with you,” Cy states, from where he’d been listening to the ol’ ladies next to me.
Nodding, I head for the door. My mind is solely on getting to Rebel and making sure she’s okay.
Gunner, Bruiser, and Ruger follow without a word. This is why I love being a member of this club. No words need to be spoken for them to take a brother’s back, no matter how small or big the problem may end up being. They’re there for me—like I’m there for them.
Pulling up in front of the office, I park my bike next to Rebel’s Jeep and kick the stand down. I hop off before stalking to the doors. She better be here, is all I gotta say.
Throwing the door open, I step into the front section and come to a halt.
Oh shit.
“What the fuck?” Cy snarls, rushing past me.
“The fuck happened here?” Bruiser sneers, coming to stand next to me.
Gunner and Ruger move to help Cy.
My eyes are glued to the words on the wall behind them.
Come and find me if you can.
Glancing away from the words, I take in Alanna’s body now in Cy’s arms. She’s been hit in the head by something. Blood is caked on her head, and she’s out cold.
“We need to get her to the clubhouse,” Cy states, laying Alanna on the couch before looking at me. “You know who did this shit, don’t you Rogue?�
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“Oh, I fuckin’ know. And now I’m about to make them all pay,” I growl harshly, spotting the box and move to it. I glance inside to find it filled with pictures.
Fuck. Me.
This bitch has a serious issue that needs to end.
“You take care of her. Call Prez, let him know where I’m heading.” Pivoting on my heel, I sprint for the door.
With Rebel in Sabrina’s clutches, I don’t know if she’ll make it through what’s to come next.
Swinging my leg over my bike, I start her up, back up, and head for the one place I can think of where I could find them.
Judge Raymond’s house.
In the information Cy found, part of it had showed Walton and his wife live with her father.
Times ticking, and I’m doing everything I can to stay in control of my anger. I can’t afford to lose it right now. Not yet. I gotta find my woman.
It seems to take forever driving toward Judge Raymond’s not so little home. I don’t give a damn who hears my motorcycle as I speed down the streets leading to the house. My woman’s missing, and this is the only place I can think to find her.
Parking in the driveway, I put the kickstand down and climb off. Gunner’s right behind me as I storm up to the front door. I don’t bother knocking. Instead, I kick the damn thing in. The wood splinters off the hinges.
Stepping inside, I’m assaulted with the pungent odor of death.
“Fuck, brother, what died in here?” Gunner complains.
“I don’t know, we gotta find Rebel. That’s all I’m worried about right now,” I say, stalking further into the house.
