by Lauren Hunt
“Mr. King! Put your hands up where we can see them.”
I raised my hands to the air. “What the fuck is this about?”
“You're under arrest for the attempted murder of Marquis Jones.” One of the officers with a bushy brown mustache pulled out a pair of handcuffs.
Kayla tried to intervene. “Rebel didn't do anything wrong! This is a mistake. I'll have my father over here in minutes and both of you will lose your jobs.”
Her threats didn't nothing to sway them. But I loved her passion. The officer listed off my Miranda rights as the other patted me down.
“Well would you look at that. We have the murder weapon.” The officer pulled my pistol out of my waistband and handed it to his buddy. He cuffed my hands behind my back and wasn't gentle about it.
Kayla kissed me before the pigs took me away. “Don't worry, Rebel. My father will hire you the best lawyer. You'll be out by tomorrow.”
That was the last time I saw her.
I was brought to an interrogation chamber where they kept me for hours without any food or water. My handcuffed wrists were chained in front of me to the table. A single light hung above giving off a small amount of light in the otherwise dark room. Nobody even came in to ask me questions.
Until Sheriff Buckley showed his ugly mug. “Well what do we have here...Rebel King.”
His breath stunk of donuts and coffee as he sat his over-sized figure into the small steel chair across from me. He placed a stack of brown files onto the table. “You have quite the record, Mr. King. Assault, robbery, and too many others to list. Your motorcycle club might've gotten you out of your other charges but not this one.”
Buckley slid a file in front of me and opened it up to pictures of a black guy I'd never seen before. He was bloody and bullet-ridden, laying on the pavement. The leather cut he was wearing told me the dead guy was from the 809 MC.
“The problem is, Rebel...you didn't finish the job. The man is alive and well at Saint Marks Memorial.”
“I don't know what the fuck you're talking about. I've never seen this guy in my life.”
“Where were you today, Rebel?”
“Main street of Saint Marks. I met with a dozen business owners that can verify my alibi.” There was no way the cops were going to pin this on me.
Buckley laughed, choking on his own spit. “Don't make me have a heart attack, Rebel. Your alibi is exactly where the attempted murder took place.”
Fuck. Something was fishy about all this. Kayla's lawyer should've been here by now. I'd have to call the MC and get them to send me somebody else.
“I want my one phone call.”
Buckley ignored me. “We also pulled the weapon off you that fired the bullets that hit Mr. Jones.”
“Fuck you. My gun was never fired.”
“Not according to the report.” Buckley opened another file but I didn't even glance at it. I already knew what it said.
This was all moving too fast. No fucking way the cops figured all this out in a few hours. Somebody was framing me and doing a damn good job.
“No jury would convict me with all this bullshit evidence. Any lawyer could rip this case apart.”
Buckley smiled and swiped all the files off the table. Papers and pictures flew to the ground in a mess. “We don't even need any of this. You're going to confess and wrap up this case in a nice little bow.”
“Never going to happen, Sheriff.”
Buckley pulled out a file from behind his back and opened it for me. A photo of Kayla was laying amongst other papers. “If you don't cooperate with us, we'll have to take Ms. Spencer in for selling cocaine out of her dorm room.”
“Nobody will ever believe that. Kayla's father will sue you guys so fast your heads will be decorated on pikes outside the police station by the morning.”
Buckley leaned forward, bathing his fat face in light. “It won't matter. The damage will already be done. The college would have to expel Kayla and no other college would accept her after that.”
As much as I hated to admit it, Buckley was right. I couldn't let Kayla's life get ruined because of mine.
Sheriff Buckley stood up and and opened the door. “I'll give you a moment to think about your options.”
I didn't need a moment. I'd do anything for Kayla. Going to prison was a small sacrifice if it meant Kayla could lead a normal life. “I confess, Buckley. I tried to kill him.”
Buckley grinned and left me alone. Did I do the right thing?
The sentencing hearing came up the next day with the judge sentencing me to thirty years in prison. I kept expecting Kayla to show up and fight for me but she was nowhere to be found. The Reavers didn't even know that I'd been picked up by the cops. Before they could even act, I'd already be in a jail cell.
I'd never let any harm come to Kayla.
Chapter Four
Kayla
Present
I'd gone a week without hearing anything from Rebel. I expected him to be at my door every day to fight for me. Maybe he actually was respecting my wishes? Luckily I had my painting to distract me from him otherwise I might've been tempted to call Rebel.
The day of my art show arrived and I barely got my painting finished in time. The thing was still drying when I put it in the backseat of my BMW SUV. Thankfully I had my little black dress picked out beforehand to save time. My body was a bundle of nerves as I drove to the show. I couldn't stop sweating. My father and Lily were both going to be there to support me. I needed it.
I got to the art gallery a couple hours before the show started and hung my painting up. With everything that had happened I had totally blanked on coming up with a price for my piece. With my father's money I didn't really need to sell my art. But I wanted the price to reflect my talent. Twenty thousand dollars would do the trick. Nobody would ever buy it for that much.
By the time the show started, I'd already drank three glasses of white wine. The buzz was already in full effect and I didn't feel nervous anymore. I stood by my painting and answered any questions people had. I kept looking around for Lily but she was already late. My father was never late. He always arrived when he intended.
“Now that's an amazing painting.” I turned around to see Lily standing in front of my work with a glass of wine in her hand.
“Thank you for coming, Lily, I really needed you.”
Lily tilted her head to the side as she examined my art. “No wonder you wanted to keep this under wraps. I've never seen you paint something so dark before.”
She was right. This was something totally out of my wheelhouse. I normally painted sunsets and gardens. All that strange energy I had was channeled into this—the Grim Reaper as Lady Justice. His skull was blindfolded and he held his scythe in one hand and a heart in another.
“I don't know what came over me. I just saw this in my head and had to get it on the canvas.” I poured the wine down my throat and let it warm my insides.
“And twenty thousand dollars? You sold your last painting for three hundred dollars.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I obviously don't need the money. But I can't keep devaluing my stuff because I think I'm no good.”
“Well I think you're amazing and you deserve every penny.”
I hooked my arm in Lily's and took her away from my painting. “Come on. I'm sick of answering questions about my piece. Let's go make fun of all the other art.”
Lily and I laughed our way through the gallery, consuming glass after glass of wine. Bossa Nova music played throughout the gallery. We passed by a painting of a cow—just a cow grazing on the farm. It already sold.
“People will buy anything, won't they?” Lily asked.
“If it's considered art, then yes.”
When we returned to my painting, my father was standing in front of it, pondering the meaning of life.
“Thank you for coming, Daddy.”
My father spun around with a great big smile. “I'm so proud of you, Kayla.”
“Nic
e to see you, Mr. Spencer,” Lily said, sidling up next to me.
“Always a pleasure, Lily,” my father replied. Lily blushed and I couldn't help but giggle. Lily always had a crush on my dad even though he was thirty years older than her. Lily always had a thing for older men.
“What do you think?” I asked my father, turning him back to my painting.
“Never thought you could paint something...so grotesque.”
I gave my father a playful shove. “It's not grotesque, Daddy.”
“Well whatever it is, it's absolutely amazing.” My father's approval meant the world to me.”I remember when you were a little girl...”
“Not this story again, Daddy.” I interrupted. He loved to embarrass me every chance he got.
Lily nudged me. “I haven't heard this one before, Kayla. Go on, Mr. Spencer.”
My father's eyes lit up. Nothing could stop him now. “When Kayla was little—maybe five or six—she came into the kitchen with paint all over her fingers. I went out to the living room to discover every white wall covered with her hand prints. She even managed to reach the expensive paintings.”
“Daddy was so pissed at me,” I added.
“But if you remember, I kept it that way for a year. You gave the room some color it desperately needed. I knew you were going to be an artist since that moment.”
“So why did you try so hard to get me to work for your company?”
“I knew it was hopeless but I had to try. Somebody has to take over when I'm gone. I'm just glad you found something you love to do.” My father bent over and kissed me on the forehead. “I was willing to buy your painting but it looks like someone already beat me to it.”
I glanced at the price tag below the painting and there was a little red sticker next to it. “Holy shit! Somebody bought this for twenty grand?”
Lily shoved me out of the way to get a look for herself. “Your crazy idea worked! Drinks are definitely on you tonight.”
I couldn't believe someone thought I was good enough to spend twenty grand on. Maybe my art wasn't so bad?
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a phantom floating through the gallery. But it wasn't a phantom.
Rebel had come.
My heart began to race and the gallery suddenly became a thousand degrees hotter. My father would explode if he knew Rebel was here to see me. I brushed up against Lily and whispered, “Rebel is here.” She looked around and I nudged her with my elbow. “Distract my father for awhile.”
Lily instantly knew what to do. “Mr. Spencer would you mind accompanying me around to look at the art.”
My father put his arm out. “It would be my pleasure.” He was such a gentleman. Lily winked at me as they both walked away.
I turned my attention to the crowd of wine drinkers but I couldn't find Rebel. A tattooed biker should have been easy to spot among the rich elite. Where had he gone? This could end up in disaster if I didn't find him soon.
Rebel
Kayla meant the world to me. I was devastated when she told me that we were broken up. It was like that incredible sex meant nothing to her. How could she be so cold towards me when we had been through so much together? How could she do this to me when I sacrificed everything for her?
My instincts told me to forget all about her. There was plenty of other pussy out there to keep my cock warm.
My MC did their best to keep me distracted, throwing me party after party. I was shit-faced for almost entire week straight. But I couldn't get the image of Kayla's beautiful blue eyes out of my head. Even when a pair of giant tits were right in front of me, begging to be licked and sucked, all I could do was decline and go to my room to jerk off, dreaming of Kayla's soft lips wrapped around my hard length.
I couldn't handle it anymore. I needed to see her again. Tell her that she was mine now and forever. Would she see me if I showed up at her apartment door again?
I couldn't risk the chance of her shutting me out. It would break me apart. I had to see her in public where she had no place to hide or run.
The talk of the town was the art show. All the rich folks of Saint Marks would crawl out of their mansions, dressed in funeral attire to gawk at dried paint. Kayla wouldn't miss it for the world. That would be my perfect chance to strike.
I parked my Harley across the street from the gallery. I watched for any signs of Kayla. It would be ideal if I could pull her aside outside of the gallery. But I couldn't spot her through all the old people dressed in suits, valeting their expensive convertibles.
I'd have to go into the belly of the beast for Kayla.
I tried to march right in but my leather jacket and jeans gave me away instantly. A skinny man dressed like a penguin asked for my invitation and I politely shoved him out of the way. Nothing was getting in the way of what was mine.
I'd never been to an art show before. Paintings hung on white walls and a crowd of people were talking and drinking—doing everything but actually looking at the art. The free wine was welcomed. I needed some liquid courage to face Kayla again. I poured the white alcohol down my gullet and warmed up.
I searched for Kayla but couldn't find her. Maybe she wasn't here?
A painting of the Grim Reaper caught my attention. I usually wasn't into art but this was my kind of thing. It was so dark and nightmarish. A little placard under the painting said: Kayla Spencer.
She was here.
“What are you doing here, Rebel?”
I spun around to find Kayla dressed in a short black dress. It hugged every delicious curve of her body. She was so fucking sexy. My balls were like two fiery coals in my pants. It had been a week since our last time together. Way too long in my opinion. I could steal her away to the bathroom and hike up her dress to fuck her in the stall.
“I need to talk to you, Kayla.”
Her expression saddened. “Now is not the time. We're not together anymore. You can't just show up whenever you want.”
“I tried to respect your wishes but I can't leave things how we did back at your apartment.”
Kayla went to open her mouth but another deeper voice came from behind her. “Get away from my daughter, Rebel King.”
Mr. Spencer walked in between Kayla and I. He was exactly how I remembered—old and gray but powerful. He was the only man I was ever scared of.
When Kayla made me meet him for the first time, I was absolutely terrified. We ate dinner at her father's place, maids and butlers serving our every need. I was completely out of place and Mr. Spencer knew it.
When Kayla went to the bathroom, he had no qualms about telling me how it was. “Mr. King, you're no good for my daughter. Kayla deserves the best and I won't let a scoundrel like you near her. If money will get you away then name your price.”
If it had been anyone else, I would've taken my gun and put it in their mouth until they begged for mercy. But I couldn't do that to her father.
“You don't know me, Mr. Spencer. No amount of money will make me stop seeing your daughter. And we'll continue seeing each other whether you approve or not.”
Kayla came back to the dinner table before the discussion could get even more heated. But now here he was, standing in front of me, getting between Kayla and I again.
“This is none of your business, Mr. Spencer. This is between Kayla and I.”
His voice raised louder. “This is my business. She's my daughter. You're going to leave right now before I call the cops.” Mr. Spencer pulled out his cellphone from his suit jacket. Most of the art gallery crowd had turned their attention to us.
Kayla put her hand on her father's shoulder. “Please, Daddy. Don't call the cops. He didn't come here to start trouble. Rebel was just about to leave.” She looked at me with those blue eyes that I thought loved me so much. But instead they were filled with embarrassment.
The skinny man dressed like a penguin pointed the security guards in my direction. It was time to go now. I left without saying another word.
Kayla and I were done now. I
knew the truth deep in my heart. But I didn't want to admit it. Whatever love she had for me was lost when I went to prison. I'd keep my distance from now on.
Chapter Five
Kayla
I had to say whatever I could to keep my father from calling the cops. I couldn't be the reason for Rebel going back to prison. Getting him out of there as fast as possible was in his best interest. I agreed that we needed to talk further. There was still feelings between us that I couldn't conceal. But now was not the time.
