The Prospect (of Rebel Rage MC Book 3)

by Addy Archer

  She swallows hard, and her head bobs. “Yes. Sure. You don’t have to come back here. I can make something to eat for myself.”

  Ten days apart. Ten damn days and it seems we have a gap of awkwardness between us. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. The meeting I requested is because I want that fucker found and six feet under. I will be in the clubhouse with my brothers, and you can come along with me if you want. If you think you can handle it. Hell, I can even ask my pres if you can join the meeting.”

  Her whole demeanor changes. Curiosity taints her gray eyes when she asks, “Do they allow women in church? I thought they weren’t allowed. They aren’t at my father and grandfather’s MC.”

  “Did you not notice my cut, Apple?” I chuckle. “I’m a prospect. I’m not allowed in church, and yet sometimes I sit in during meetings. Mainly because I’m basically already patched in as a full member, but that’s a different story. What I’m trying to say is that our MC sometimes functions differently. Alaric only allows it when it’s needed—if that person has information or needs to hear what’s been said. Our president bends the rules a little bit, so to say.” She gives me a tiny smile in understanding, and it makes me ask, “So, are you gonna sit in with the meeting or stay cooped up in here?”

  Fear flashes through her eyes, and she takes a step back. Shit. Now I probably did push too far too fast. She glances through the room, as if she needs to find a way out but knows she’s caged in. I have to pull her out of her mind and her limitations.

  A thought crosses my mind. “Peyton has been visiting you, right? Did she tell you you’re going to be an aunt?”

  Her head whips my way, and a truckload of excitement and happiness washes over her face. My throat turns dry at her captivating beauty. Fucking hell, did I really say we’re only friends? Because in this moment, I want to see her face filled with the pleasure I give her… mainly when she’s riding my dick.

  Damn. Get a grip. I need that shower to rub one out and get my head straight. I have to be here for her. And the stuff she went through? She sure as hell doesn’t need my dick thrown into the mix to make things complicated. Friendship is all there is between us. She needs to get her life back on track. She comes first—and not due to my dick.

  C H A P T E R T W O

  ~ H A R P E R ~

  I’m going to be an aunt? My sister is pregnant? Warmth and joy spread through my body. Without thinking, I launch myself at Linc and hug him close. His arms instantly wrap around me. They’re the only arms I feel safe in.

  Linc shifts his body, and I know why. I just felt the reason. Kinda hard to ignore the way his dick hardened against me. I’m sure with the things I said—and the things I didn’t have to say because he was there to witness—he feels the need to shield me.

  This is the first time, though, the first time our bodies have reacted to each other. I can feel how I affect him, but he doesn’t know how he affects me. The unwanted thoughts about him leaving and probably getting attention from all the women in the clubhouse made me angry and jealous a moment ago.

  It was the reason I lashed out at him, and it made me feel bad inside. He didn’t deserve it, and I shouldn’t have reacted that way, but I’m torn by this whole situation. It’s as if everything has been taken from me—my safety, my innocence, my first sexual experience, my comfort. My whole being has been crushed.

  He’s the one who pulled me out and was there to put me back on my feet. I opened up to him—and only him—and then he was gone. Ten whole days. I was thrown back into a gaping hole and left to climb out by myself.

  My sister came by the first day to tell me Linc was in jail and would be here as soon as he was out. But the first few days, I crawled into bed and wanted to stay there until he was back. Peyton kept coming around and talked through the door until I finally opened it slightly.

  I needed the distance between us—the security I could slam the door shut on the outside world and keep my space clean and safe. Weird and unrealistic, I know, but it’s how I coped and worked through my anxieties. And now he’s back and so are the new and different feelings that are coursing through my body, making everything even more complicated.

  Linc clears his throat and glances at the clock. Shit. It’s late. I’ve slept through my routine. My heart starts to pound, and the long list of things I should have done runs through my head.

  “No, Apple. Look at me,” Linc snaps, and my eyes instantly find his. “We’re going to get some food. That’s our first priority, okay? I’ll text my president and ask if the meeting can take place tomorrow. We’ve all had a rough few days, and we can take this night to relax, right? We’ll watch a movie. Hell, I’ll even let you pick this time.”

  He’s right. They all had a rough few days. But it’s late. I should have eaten already, and now it’s all messed up. My eyes slide back to the clock.

  “Don’t look at the fucking clock. Look at me. I’m right here, and I need you. I also need a shower and some damn food.”

  “Can’t have it all at once, doofus,” I mutter. “The food would be ruined if we take it with us into the shower.”

  His head tips back and laughter rips out. It’s as if he’s pulling emotional strings inside my body. I’ve missed his carefree laughter. I’ve missed him.

  He places a kiss on the top of my head and says, “Anytime you wanna shower with me, I’m there, Apple. Food or no food.”

  My mind is locked on Linc’s chest, and I wonder what he looks like underneath his shirt and leather cut. From the way my body has been leaning against him, I know he must have a six-pack. He works out a lot. Or so he’s told me when he leaves here to head for the clubhouse where I’ve heard they have a large gym.

  Linc lowers his head to look me in the eye. “Glad to see your mind is off the clock, but, sweetheart, are you picturing what your friend would look like naked?” There’s laughter in his voice, as if the joke’s on me.

  My cheeks heat from shame because he read me flawlessly; not to mention, he’s making fun of me because of it.

  I step away and stalk to the window. Without looking at him, I snap, “Go to your stupid meeting and to the whores in the clubhouse. I bet they’re very willing to shower with you. And you don’t have to come back. I’ve managed days without you. I don’t need your pity or you making fun of me.”

  My eyes are locked on the backyard where Raven, Hunt’s daughter, is playing with a pink ball. Hunt is the VP of Rebel Rage MC, and he’s also my sister’s old man. Peyton told me all of this, but she kept the little detail from me about her being pregnant. I wonder why. Pretty sure she thinks I can’t handle it or something. A scream rips from my throat when I’m suddenly grabbed from behind.

  “Calm the fuck down. It’s only me,” Linc grumbles.

  I glare over my shoulder. “What are you still doing here, and why would you grab me from behind? I told you to leave me alone.”

  “Are you mad at me for leaving you by yourself for all those days? I was in jail, Apple.” He shakes his head as if I’m stupid.

  “My name isn’t Apple. It’s Harper. And I know damn well you were in jail because you wouldn’t just leave me and not tell me why or where you’re going. Friends don’t do that. And friends also don’t make fun of one another. Now leave, because I’m mad at you. Just go and—”

  “And what? Get my dick wet? Shower with a whore? What the hell, Harper? Why are you acting like this? What changed between us besides those ten days we were apart? For fuck’s sake, I was locked up, and suddenly you don’t trust me?”

  I swirl around to face him. “You’re blaming me?”

  “Fucking hell,” Linc grumbles, and he moves so fast, I can’t even take my next breath before I’m wrapped in his arms and plastered against his chest.

  I fist his leather cut and am about to push him away, but his words stop me.

  “Please don’t. Let me fucking hold you, and let’s not fight. I missed you. I craved to hold you, talk to you, inhale your sweet scent of va
nilla and apple blossom when I hug you close. I’m so damn tired and unable to comprehend why we’re fighting.” He buries his nose into my hair and takes a deep breath.

  He’s talking about the shampoo and conditioner, or maybe the body lotion. He bought me all those things, and they all have a hint of apple blossom. I close my eyes and soak up the warmth and comfort he gives me. Now I’m the one wondering why I lashed out and what caused it.

  “I missed you too.” I sigh and snuggle closer.

  “Wanna do a zombie series marathon?” Linc questions.

  Instant joy flows through me at the reminder of the last time we did a series marathon. “Yes. You go take a shower. I’ll make us some snacks we can put in between us, and get everything set upstairs.”

  “Gonna drag me straight into your bed and skip the couch, eh?” Linc chuckles. “That’s my girl.”

  His words warm my chest. Though, I know very well he doesn’t mean them the way I long for them to be real in every way. His girl. I wish. But with my past—and it being his task to look after me—all I can ever be is his friend. And with this realization, I know I was being a bitch just now because of my own frustrations. He didn’t do anything wrong. It’s all me.

  Maybe it’s because I just heard the fact that my sister is pregnant and an old lady now. I’ve seen the way Hunt looks at Peyton when they play with Raven in the backyard. That’s love.

  Weird, because the bikers we grew up with were anything but caring—except for my brother, Stone. But my sister mentioned Stone is moving back to be with our grandfather. Stone will be taking over as the president of Trigger Pull MC in California.

  I wonder what Mom thinks about all of this. Maybe Linc knows, because Peyton didn’t mention my mother at all. I used to call my mother every night at seven. It was part of my routine. Peyton told me that’s how they knew I was missing because I didn’t call the night Alejandro kidnapped me.

  “I should call my mother,” I tell Linc, and he instantly freezes up. “You don’t think it’s a good idea? I promise I won’t freak out. I’ve been talking to Peyton for over a week now, and it didn’t freak me out at all. I’m doing better, I swear. I just freaked out in the clubhouse because it was all too much with you coming back safe, Alejandro still alive, and the not eating for days because I was worried about you.”

  “You were worried about me and that was the reason you weren’t eating? Dammit, Harper. You need to take better care of yourself. I’m going to get some food into you right now. I’ll go out and get some food from that Italian place you like so much. I’ll go right now, and I won’t take long. I promise.”

  Something feels off, as if he’s trying to rush off or something. And it doesn’t escape my attention how he doesn’t mention my mom, especially since he’s been asking if I remember my family for all the months I’ve been here.

  He’s already at the door and palming his phone when I ask, “What’s wrong, Linc? What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Fuck,” he snaps and spins around to face me. “Your sister didn’t tell you shit, right? Not about her being pregnant. Not about your mom. Your dad. Not one fucking thing?”

  I slowly shake my head, dread filling my veins. “Please tell me, Linc. I know you’ll never lie to me. It’s why I ran into the clubhouse to search for Peyton when you only stared at me when I asked if Alejandro was finally dead. You didn’t say one single word because you couldn’t lie to me. Now, please, Linc. If it’s this bad, I want to hear it from you. I don’t have the energy to face my sister, not now.” My voice cracks with emotion. I feel it in my bones that this is going to be bad. Why else would my sister keep this information from me?

  “After you were kidnapped, your mother collapsed in the parking lot. She was brought to the hospital where she seemed to be doing better but then suddenly she took a turn for the worse and died. Peyton visited her at the hospital. Your father came into the room while your mother was asking Peyton to look after Hunt’s kid. Your ma happened to be Raven’s teacher. Peyton thinks it might have been a hint or some sort of secret message. We have our suspicions that either your father or the cartel had something to do with your mother’s death. But the fact is, she’s dead, and so is your father.”

  I keep staring at his handsome face. His dark brown hair is shorter on the sides while it’s longer on top, standing up all feisty and fierce. This man—sweet, caring, strong—has been my strength and has pulled me through some of the darkest moments in my life. He doesn’t lie to me but gives it to me straight. Facts. He doesn’t hold back.

  I take a shaky breath and let his words slowly soak into my brain to fully process. The fact my father had a role in throwing me at the mercy of Alejandro makes no feelings for his death rise inside me. My mother, though? My sweet, sweet mother who has always been there for me, my beacon who I could always turn to, she’s gone? Forever? I didn’t get to say goodbye.

  My throat closes up, and it’s as if piles of bricks come crashing down on top of me to take away the ability to take my next breath. I can’t imagine a future where she’s not involved in my life. I kept quiet for as long as I’ve been here. I didn’t say who I was for the sake of my mother, my sister, Linc, and for my own safety. Yet all is lost because my mother is gone and Alejandro is still out there.

  I want to crawl into a ball and hide in a corner to cut myself out of this craziness I’m wrapped in. Glancing up, I’m aware of Linc’s eyes taking me in, scrutinizing me as if he’s waiting for me to crash to the ground in a full-blown panic attack. It’s probably the reason why my sister didn’t mention anything, not even the joyous fact she’s pregnant. They think I can’t handle anything and are afraid even the slightest change will set me off.

  And really, can I blame them? I crashed at the clubhouse when I became aware Alejandro is still out there. I’m weak. Pathetic. Stolen from my own life and thrown into a pit of gruesomeness that I haven’t yet figured out how to crawl out of.

  Like I said, I want nothing more than to crawl in a corner and hide. Linc is expecting me to do exactly that. I’ve done it before. Somehow a spark of anger starts to burn in my chest. I’m tired of all of this. So damn tired of anxiety and panic attacks ruling my life.

  I don’t want to sleep or hide. For the first time I want to fight back and take control of my own life again. Tiny steps forward. One at a time with help from the man standing before me. I know he will have my back when I stumble or take on too much for me to handle.

  “I want to go to her,” I say, hating the fact my voice comes out shaky.

  Linc’s head rears back, clearly surprised by my request. “You want to visit your mother’s grave?”

  I give him a tight nod because I don’t trust my voice. The way my emotions are shimmering through is not what I need to be reminded of, so staying quiet is the best option.

  “Let me get this absolutely straight.” Linc narrows his eyes and leans in as if he needs to assess every twitch on my face. “You want to leave this house, go outside, and ride on the back of my bike to visit your mother’s grave. That’s what you want to do right now? This instant? Knowing Alejandro is still out there.”

  I clench my hands into fists. Even Linc sees me as vulnerable. Someone who hides in here and can’t face anything, let alone step outside of this freaking house. I know he’s justified by my past behavior, but I’m sick of everything. My next breath could be my last, so why would I want to stay hidden and afraid? It’s my life, and I want it back.

  “Yes,” I snap angrily. “That’s what I want.” I raise my chin in defiance.

  The corner of his mouth twitches. “You ever been on the back of a bike, Apple?”

  Warmth spreads though me when I hear him call me Apple again. I hated lashing out and demanding he use my given name, but in that instant, I needed the distance between us. Mostly because every time I hear him call me Apple, it does funny things to my body.

  “Yes, Linc. I’ve been on the back of a bike countless times. My brother’s to be exact.�
� I stare right in his eyes when I add, “Not to mention, I own a bobber myself. Now, when can we leave?”

  C H A P T E R T H R E E

  ~ L I N C ~

  How the fuck is this turn of events our fucking reality? I’m sure this is a bad idea, and this rush of willpower she’s riding is bound to come crashing down any damn second. Shit. It doesn’t take away the fact that her delicate arms wrapped around my waist, holding me tight, feel amazing—except there’s practically no strength in her arms.

  She mentioned how she hadn’t eaten much when I was locked up. I need to get back to fattening her up. Yes, I’m aware that sounds crazy, but for real, she’s skin over bones. The whole pulling her out of her drugged-up state we found her in caused her to lose a lot of weight too.

  I didn’t know her before we rescued her, but I’m betting she wasn’t as skinny as she is now. It has nothing to do with what I like or what magazines show a female body should look like; this is about making sure her body is healthy.

  With her sudden need to visit her mother’s grave, I can only hope it’s a solid step forward. If all goes well, I’m going to drag her into the gym at the clubhouse tomorrow morning.

  This will allow us to start a routine to get some strength into her body. I make a mental note to suggest this to her. Maybe I should make her a schedule first, so I can show her what I have in mind. She loves schedules; I could use it as an advantage.

  It’s a short ride to the cemetery, and I hate the fact Hunt is with us, since I would have liked it to be a more private moment for her. But there’s no choice in this matter. Alejandro is still out there, and to be sure we have extra protection, Alaric decided we should always ride in pairs. Hence the reason Hunt is tagging along.

  He stays near the bikes while I take Harper’s hand. I take a step to her mother’s grave, but her feet are suddenly frozen to the ground as if she’s unable to move. I look at her face and clearly see the panic in her eyes.