The Prospect (of Rebel Rage MC Book 3)

by Addy Archer

  “Busted.” I sigh. “I’ll make the coffee while you guys do the slushy thing, deal?”

  “Deal,” both Angie and Peyton say in sync.

  “Oh, here.” Peyton holds out my large leather bag she brought from my house. “I packed you some other important stuff along with your laptop and sketch things.”

  I take the bag—becoming aware it’s heavier than I thought it would be, and it makes me wonder what she put in there—and follow them all into the kitchen. I place the bag on the ground next to the table and focus on making coffee to distract myself.

  I keep reminding myself that I’m safe and that I can leave at any second, but also to fight my instinct to crawl into the shell I call home. I need to mingle among people. My people. My sister and the ones Linc considers family and who he made aware how to make me feel at ease around them.

  All of it makes me more determined to take my life back and not let Alejandro’s havoc on my body and mind determine who I am. Some of the tension fades, and when I’m done with making coffee, I see both Angie and Peyton sipping their icy goodness.

  “Your ass will get bigger than your belly if you keep feeding your addiction.” I snicker. “Or do you now stick with just the lemon slush instead of all those lemon donuts you always crave and sneakily devour one after another.”

  My sister’s eyes go wide before they narrow, but I can see the twinkle in her eyes that she’s aware I’m teasing her. I’m trying to get back to our normal easy banter instead of tension and forced conversations.

  “You’re just saying that because you’re jealous of my fat ass. Yours is flat, you know. If you were a nice sister and loved crunchy lemon donuts, I would share with you. But seeing you hate them, I should really shove them down your throat anyway.”

  Angie gasps. “Girls, please. Be nice.”

  Peyton has the biggest grin on her face, and I now realize I’m wearing one too.

  “Oh,” Angie says as her gaze ping-pongs between us. “This is how you normally talk to each other? Jeez, you two are weird. A little warning would have been nice. I was about to yell for Hunt and Linc to get in here. Hey, I didn’t congratulate you yet, Harper. You’re really one of us now, an old lady.”

  “I’m still processing all of it,” I mutter and grab the mug I filled with steaming coffee.

  “Linc is sweet. I’m happy for the both of you. And to think you two end up together after he took care of you all this time. Friendship evolving into a higher-level relationship. Couple goals kinda thing.” Angie elbows Peyton. “Don’t you think? And with you two being sisters, I think it’s perfect and adorable. Even if these Neanderthals have a weird way of snagging us girls and bringing us to their cave, clubhouse, whatever.”

  I can barely swallow my coffee to prevent it from bursting out through my nose. All of us crack up with laughter. But I sober up all too quickly because the words Angie just mentioned also worry me. Seeing these two are also an old lady—one being my sister—I could really use some good advice. Well, it would be more like hearing their thoughts when I admit something out loud for the first time.

  I take a gulp of air and rush out the words on a mere whisper. “I don’t think I can have sex.”

  The both of them stare at me for a few heartbeats without moving. Peyton slides into a chair and tilts her head. “Why is that?” she asks, no judgement or curiosity lacing her voice. It’s as if she voiced those three words to get a conversation going.

  My gaze hits the floor, and I can feel my cheeks heat with embarrassment. I shouldn’t be embarrassed; it’s not my fault I was kidnapped or what happened after that. It happened, and I now realize I have to deal with it. I want to talk about it, but at the same time, I don’t. Shit. She’s my sister, and I haven’t told a soul any of the details about what happened. Hell, I don’t even try to remember because it’s all too painful and raw.

  But when I think of Linc, there’s warmth and comfort flowing through me along with tingles building low in my belly. “I want to. And he makes me feel like I want to. But what if we’re about to and I freak out? I never did it. Not before.” I swallow my next words and clear my throat. “Not before. So, I don’t know what to expect, and that makes me freak out too. All of it. But…. Yeah.”

  “If the chemistry is there between two people, it should go naturally, sis. And everyone can see the two of you connect on every level. If you’re scared, if you want it, if he’s going to fast, if you can’t… tell him. Let him know what’s going on in your head, and you can either let him lead or ask if you could maybe get a little handsy to explore things. Or you can let him go down on you. His mouth only, no fingers. Uh-huh, I think that’s a good start.”

  “Peyton,” I gasp.

  “What? I can give my sister good sex advice if I want. It’s not like I’m showing you or telling you how to use your fingers on yourself or that you can clench your pussy really hard. Seriously, Hunt loves it when I do that.”

  “Please, make her stop.” I groan and slap my hands over my ears, though it doesn’t stop me from hearing when Angie chimes in.

  “Or maybe Linc is like Alaric with the first time we had sex. He shoved it in and exploded the next second. So not the way I thought sex would go. Did I mention he’s huge and I was a virgin? Oh, man.” Angie cringes and glances at us. “I overshared, didn’t I?”

  Peyton pinches her thumb and forefinger together and nods. Laughter fills the kitchen, and I have to chuckle as my hands fall away from my head.

  Angie releases a sigh and gives me a smile, but it disappears quickly when a fierce look spreads over her face. “If Linc ever so much as hurts one hair on your head, Peyton here will kill him and I will make sure no one will ever find his body.”

  Her whole demeanor with her eyes spitting fire and her hands clenching, tells me she isn’t kidding.

  Peyton points at Angie. “What she said.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper. “I needed this.”

  “Me too,” Angie says. “I’ve had a few friends through the years but never like this in such a short time. And to think we will have lots of time and other moments together. I’m always scared it won’t last and it’ll all blow up in my face. All because of my past, and I didn’t have the best stepsister; she’d always pulled me into trouble. As you might know, it’s also the reason me and Alaric met, but that’s all in the past. Ugh, what I’m trying to say is that I’d like to have more moments like this. Yummy drinks and laughter with good company.”

  “Well,” my sister says as she rubs her belly absently, “all of us are Rebel Rage MC old ladies. We’re bound to stick together like all the brothers, right?”

  “Right,” I reply with a grin, totally agreeing with the both of them.

  “Yes,” Angie squeals. “Okay, now you two spill what happened before you arrived at the clubhouse.”

  Peyton places her empty glass on the counter. “When we arrived, Linc was heading for Harper’s house. Alejandro was inside, and Hunt shoved a loaded gun into my hand and said to point and shoot if Alejandro or anyone else who I thought would be a threat to us came near us. Hunt kicked in the door, and they disappeared inside. We had to stand there and wait until they came back. From what Hunt told me, Alejandro escaped by taking a little girl hostage. She was around Raven’s age. Poor thing, her mother witnessed all of it too. They must have been scared to death.” Peyton shakes her head and again absently rubs her belly. “Hunt said Linc managed to shoot Alejandro in the shoulder, but he got away. We—” Peyton’s phone starts to ring, and she grabs it from her pocket. “Hello? Yes, I am.” She listens to the person on the other side of the line, but her eyes flash to me. “Oh no. Yes... Okay... Thank you, I’ll let her know.” She doesn’t say anything else but ends the call and types away on her phone before she shoves it back into her pocket.

  “Well?” Angie says before I can ask her the same thing.

  “Just a moment,” Peyton says, her eyes sliding to the doorway.

  What the heck was that phon
e call about?

  C H A P T E R S E V E N

  ~ L I N C ~

  I head for the kitchen after I received a text from Peyton. In the text, she stated I was needed in the kitchen right this instant. Hunt and Alaric follow as I step inside. Harper’s head swings in my direction then back to her sister.

  “You texted them? What’s up, Peyton? You’re really starting to freak me out,” Harper says, her voice shaky. “Is it Stone? Grandfather? What?”

  Their brother, Stone, and grandfather are the only two family members they have left. No wonder Harper is asking about them first.

  Peyton’s eyes soften when they hit Harper. “I just received a phone call that was meant for you, Harper. The police couldn’t reach you, so they called me. There was a fire; your house is gone.”

  Fuck. That asshole Alejandro burned her house to the ground. I just know it was him; I don’t need any damn proof. All these things are running through my mind, but the kitchen is wrapped with silence. All eyes are locked on Harper. We’re all expecting her to freak out.

  Except, she doesn’t. She simply shrugs and says, “I have insurance. The important papers and stuff I have are locked in large safe; it should be able to resist a fire. And if it didn’t?” She shrugs again. “We’re all still here, safe and sound.” Suddenly her eyes go wide. “Blacky.” She swallows hard and tears fill her eyes.

  I step closer and drag her into my arms. “Who’s Blacky?”

  “That would be her dog. He died last year,” Peyton says from behind me. “But, Harper, didn’t you look in the bag? I put the box in there with his ashes and his leash you had on the desk in the corner of your living room. I knew those things were important to you, so I shoved it in the bag, along with his picture and your laptop and the things you use to sketch your designs, but I think I forgot your camera, though.”

  “I could hug you,” Harper sobs and pulls me closer instead of heading over to her sister.

  “You telling me that is worth more than you actually hugging me, sis.” Peyton croaks, emotion a heavy weight in her voice. “Oh, and I think it’s time you get yourself another dog. Linc, you should really get her a dog. One she can hug and that will lick her tears away. I bet it will help with everything she went through.”

  My thoughts flow out without thinking things through. “My old lady can have anything her heart desires. She deserves it and more.”

  I pull my head slightly back and look down to connect our gaze. “Please tell me Blacky wasn’t some tiny lapdog; that’s not your thing, right? Because if we get a dog, his head should at least reach my knee when he’s standing on all fours. I’m not bending down to scoop it up or pet it.”

  Harper wipes away her tears and smiles at me while Peyton hits my arm.

  “Blacky was a white shepherd, a rescue dog who was four years old when she adopted him. The poor thing was a guard dog at a junkyard where he was chained up and wasn’t fed properly. No one would adopt him because he didn’t trust people. Within a few weeks of staying with Harper, he was a completely different dog.”

  “Yeah.” Harper sighs, a smile tugs her lips, and the dreamy look in her eyes tells me she’s picturing him in her mind. “He was such a good dog.”

  I’m liking Peyton’s idea, and she’s absolutely right when she mentioned it would be good for Harper. “We’ll head over to the shelter later if you’re up for it. If not, we could go tomorrow. Your sister is right, a dog would be a great way to help you emotionally but also physically.”

  “Didn’t we just agree to a semi-lockdown?” Alaric interjects. “The fucker was in her house, probably living there because he was either waiting for her to return or simply had nowhere else to go. Now he’s burned down the place—’cause, yeah, there’s no doubt in my mind, that shit isn’t a coincidence. Are you understanding what I’m trying to explain here?” Alaric shakes his head. “Minimize the risks, Linc. Keep her here so she’s surrounded by all of us.”

  “Come on, Alaric.” Angie unleashes her puppy-dog eyes at her old man. “We had everyone coming after us a few months ago. After me. And you still took me shopping. Hunt went with us, safety in numbers and all. Now Alejandro is one guy without his men backing him up. We could all go with them; it’ll only be for an hour, tops.”

  “It only takes a split second to kill someone, Angie,” Alaric snaps.

  “You don’t have to remind me. I’m a fixer, remember? I clean up murder scenes for a living.” She rolls her eyes. “Split-second kills are usually the messiest ones. But you guys are Rebel Rage MC. Prepared to face anything. Us girls will go in Hunt’s truck along with Hunt and Linc. Then you guys can ride in front and at our back. Again, Alejandro doesn’t have anyone to help him. This whole MC, the DEA, and Bruno’s guys are all after him. Maybe we’ll draw him out so you can kill him and it will all be over.”

  I love the way my president’s old lady stands up for Harper. And to be honest, I’ve always wanted to have a dog. I had one for a mere few days when I was about nine years old. My father would kick and yell at him whenever the pup did something wrong. My mother gave the dog to the neighbors so I could still see and pet him, but it wasn’t the same. Yet, even at that age I knew it was good for the dog to escape my father’s wrath.

  “Fine,” Alaric grumbles and turns his attention to me. “But you better get her a guard dog and not some chase-my-tail, lick-my-own-ass, fluffy lapdog. Understood? Oh, and I ain’t cleaning dog shit from the backyard; that’s your job. No longer a damn prospect or not, you shovel that shit, because if I find even a speck underneath my boot, I’m gonna shove said boot up your ass.”

  “Understood, Pres,” I say, willing to agree to anything when it involves getting Harper what she needs.

  And I also like the sound of a guard dog hanging around her at all times. Even if the house we’re living in is located behind the clubhouse and we have a security system in place, a dog’s hearing is excellent for an added level of awareness.

  “Okay, let’s go,” Alaric grunts. “Maybe that fucker Alejandro is busy with watching her house to see if she shows up. We could go to and from the shelter in high speed. You won’t be trying or petting them all, right?”

  Angie smacks Alaric’s chest. “It’s not like Harper is going shopping for a new pair of jeans.” She shakes her head.

  “I wouldn’t know.” Alaric shrugs. “I never had a dog.”

  Angie’s shoulders sag. “Same here.”

  “Okay, you sad bunch of people,” Hunt grumbles, “let’s get ourselves a dog that can bug every single one of us. And hurry the fuck up because my old lady and I have an appointment set for later this afternoon.”

  We all head out. We’re taking Hunt’s truck, and he’s driving with Peyton next to him. Peyton found the address of a shelter nearby and gives Hunt directions. We’re in the back seat. Harper is on my left, and Angie on my right. I’m squished in the middle because I don’t want to make Harper uncomfortable if she’s too close to Angie. Though I’m damn proud she’s opening up to her and her sister. When we finally get to the shelter, Peyton suggests only Harper and I should go inside. Good idea, because we don’t want to stroll inside with nine people.

  I’ve never done anything like this, and it’s a good thing Harper has because she might be my shadow—all pressed up against me to seek my strength—but she’s rambling about Blacky and easily answers every question the woman from the shelter asks her.

  There are a lot of dogs barking, but there is one dog who is the loudest. Before I can ask why the dog is barking like crazy, Harper beats me to it. “Who’s the troublemaker I’m hearing loud and clear?”

  “That would be the Doberman,” the woman says as she stalks to the back of the room.

  We both follow her and see a Doberman who is rapidly pacing from left to right. His ears and tail are cropped, and it looks like someone did a piss-poor job with a jagged knife. One of his ears is shorter than the other. He looks fierce, but there’s something in his eyes. Fear? Uncertainty? Hop
e? The poor pup must have had some bad experiences is his past.

  “Come on, Boy.” The woman turns her head his way and reaches her hand out. “They rescued him from a man who kept him as a guard dog. No attention whatsoever, only a large chain that had bitten into his neck because he had outgrown it. He doesn’t trust people. He was kicked and had things thrown at him to make him angry so he’d bark at everything and would want to attack. But all it did was make him nervous and scared. This is also the reason why Boy is afraid of being alone and why he barks all the time. We’re going to have a hard time finding him a good home.”

  Harper squats down and holds out her hand, “Hey, baby Boy. It’s okay. I know how you feel, but you’re a tough little cookie, aren’t ya?”

  The dog stops pacing and heads straight for Harper. I’m about to drag her away—with the things the woman just mentioned, I’m afraid it’s going to attack—but the dog shoves it’s large wet nose into the palm of her hand and then let his head rub against it. I’ll be damned.

  “We’ll take him,” I say and squat down next to Harper. “At our house, there’s always somebody around. You won’t ever be alone again, Boy. We also have a big backyard, and I’m sure we can get you some toys and stuff to chew on. I’m not giving up my spot in the bed, though.”

  The woman chuckles as Boy carefully sniffs my hand. The poor thing must be hesitant when it comes to men. He gives me a quick lick but heads straight back to Harper and starts to lick her face.

  “Okay,” the woman says as laughter slips out. “It’s clear he really likes you.” The woman suddenly chokes up and croaks, “I really thought we wouldn’t find anyone for him. People always turn the other way when they see him, and he’s so nervous, but look.”

  I glance in Harper and Boy’s direction because my attention was with the woman, but she’s right. These two share a special connection all right. Boy is calmly sitting with his head thrown back against the bars, tongue lolling out, as Harper pets him gently underneath his chin.