Rebel's Cut

by Addison Kline

  “I’m the asshole that’s gotta fix your car because I presume you don’t have the know how to do it the fuck yourself. So yeah… Someone with girly bits is more deserving of a man card than yourself. Deal wit’ it. I’ll take payment now. Five hundred down, and you pay the rest when I’m done with it. I won’t know what all needs fixin’ til I’m under it.”

  Larson stared at Sam with his blank expression hardly able to understand how a woman as beautiful and seemingly delicate like her became a tough talking, wrench slinging auto mechanic that stood before him. Larson liked to think that he had a back bone. He’d stand up to anyone who posed a threat to him, but when met face to face with Samantha Braun and her angst-ridden glare, Larson had to admit that he wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of her.

  When Larson didn’t reach for his wallet, and he didn’t say anything in return other than a series of uh’s, oh’s, and hmm’s, Samantha’s attitude came unchecked.

  “Look buddy,” she said as she put both of her hands on her waist. “I don’t know what your deal is, but you gotta pay to play. I gotta fix this tranny, so if you don’t want me fixing Cedro’s hunk of junk, you better speak up. Hurry up. I got shit to do! Burnin’ daylight…”

  “Uh right…” Larson said finally managing to unglue his eyes off of Samantha’s face. “Uh, here…” he said as he dug into his wallet and plucked out five crisp one hundred dollar bills. Passing them to her, Larson quietly said, “Sorry,” in a stammer. Samantha took the money gently from him, smiled and replied, “Give me about twenty with this tranny, and then I can get started. Have a seat over there. Levi will keep you company,” Sam said as she pointed to an old worn sofa that was placed against the far wall of the shop some years ago by her grandfather, the original owner of the shop. She continued, “Levi, grab the boy a beer, he needs to loosen up a bit. Boy is wound waayyyy too tight.”

  Levi chuckled, “You ain’t kiddin’. C’mon man, we got a couple of brewskis with our names on ‘em.”

  “Oh,” Samantha added. “And make yourself useful fellas and make me a sandwich!”

  This time it was Ryan who was howling with laughter. Levi and Larson stood staring at Sam for a good moment, in shock, that she had just given them the bitch treatment.

  “Seriously?!” Levi asked.

  “Fuck yeah. Salami and cheese on rye. Little bit of spicy mustard.”

  “Is she serious?” Larson asked Levi with his eyes big as saucers.

  “Serious as a heartattack,” Levi replied. “Guess we’ve been reduced to kitchen bitches.”

  Doing what he was told, Larson followed behind Levi as he nervously shoved his hands into his pants pocket. Sam watched at the young man with the prospect vest walked away, and she couldn’t help but feel waves of sympathy for him.

  That boy is gonna need our help… and I’m not just talking about in the garage, Sam thought. Nobody wants to work for Satan, also known as Cedro Reed. Shit. Look what the man did to his own son. Rebel. He had been my friend since before I even understood what the term meant. He had also been my grade school crush. My first kiss in junior high. My high school sweetheart. Then we turned eighteen and everything changed. I joined the Army, he took up the war at home with the Renegades, and we parted ways amicably. Everything was fine, mostly, until he got mixed up with Kayla Jordan. My granddaddy always used to say, the type of woman you choose to love can either make or break you. The right woman will enhance your life, make your life better, not harder. The wrong kind of woman will make your life burn up like a wild fire, devouring everything you love in its path. Kayla Jordan is of the latter variety, if you ask me. To say that I don’t like her is an understatement. If I had my way, I’d stomp the imprint of my boot across her pretty little face for what she did to Rebel.

  And Cedro, hoo boy Cedro is no better. I can’t even imagine how vile a man you have to be to cross your own son. To betray your own flesh and blood and sleep with his girlfriend. That is cold as ice. I have half a mind to fuck up his car to get retribution on Rebel’s behalf. It would be subtle, and the beauty of it is, they couldn’t pin it on me. Sure, I was the last person who laid hands upon his car, but we have the best reputation in town. Sam Braun slip up on a repair? Unheard of, Samantha thought darkly. She chuckled a little bit to herself. Jesus, Sam. You gotta take a vacation. You sound like a devil woman. This town is starting to get to you.

  Shaking her head a little, Samantha refocused on the task at hand so that she could finish working on the Oldsmobile’s transmission before she started her inspection of Cedro’s car.

  May's Cafe

  Rebel felt like he had a target on his head as he stood in the entryway of May's Cafe as all the patrons in the place stared his way. Some with respect, other's with fear. Rebel's eyes lingered across the crowd as all noise came to a thunderous stop. He looked into the faces of each person that looked his way. Curiously enough, the ones who wore the most fear in their gazes wore that patch of the devil, himself. Renegade riders were known to be fearless and cruel. They were supposed to represent the MC as lethal soldiers hellbent on doing Cedro's blood thirsty and money hungry will. The brothers in the MC knew Rebel all too well. He had acted as their Vice President for as long as they could remember. They knew all too well the man that Rebel really was; a good man with strong loyalties, a man who fought to the death for what he believed in, a man who was wronged by his own kin. Rebel didn't bluff. Rebel didn't mince words. Rebel was not the kind of man that you wanted to get on the wrong side of... but they had. They remember all too well the white-hot scorch of Rebel’s fury as their clubhouse burned to the ground. Shrinking under his harsh glare, the Renegade Riders slowly dropped Rebel from their gaze, looking away, and escaping the cold terror that existed for them in Rebel's eyes.

  There was another pair of eyes that sought Rebel’s attention more than the others; it was a pair of innocent-appearing ice blue eyes that Rebel would recognize anywhere.

  “Rebel…” Kayla said in a longing coo. She had a stunned look upon her face as she took in the sight of him.

  His brow furrowed at the sound of her voice. Despite the sweetness in her voice, Rebel’s face hardened as he glared at her. Not giving her the pleasure of a response, Rebel twisted on his heels, turning his back to everyone who had failed to have his back when it really counted.

  Kayla’s face fell. “Rebel, please! We need to talk!”

  A cruel smile tugged at the corner of Rebel’s mouth. “I have nothing to say to a whore like you.” I didn’t want to embarrass her, Rebel thought, but Kayla broached the subject in a crowded diner full of people we both knew. She brought me to it… And I’m not about to do her any favors.

  “Rebel!” Kayla cried out, but again, her plea fell on deaf ears.

  There were some slights that couldn’t be overlooked. Finding your father nailing your girl was a hard pill to swallow, and these days, I’m not feeling too forgiving, Rebel thought.

  “I had a baby…” Kayla said, trying her luck again in a calmer tone of voice.

  Shots fired, Rebel thought.

  Rebel had put her on the spot with his comment earlier. This was her retort. Kayla had a satisfied smile on her face as she crossed her arms and waited for Rebel’s response.

  Rebel stopped dead in his tracks. Turning around to face her, Rebel took in the smug expression on his ex-girlfriend’s face. He tried to refrain from smiling, but the opportunity that had presented itself was much too delicious to pass up. With a sly smile curling up from the corners of Rebel’s mouth, he relied, “So I hear… Congrats to you and my Pops, Cedro. Your parents must be so proud.” His voice was rank with arsenic and sarcasm. Something told Rebel that Deputy Jordan and his holy roller wife weren’t too pleased at the fact that their little girl was knocked up by an outlaw biker. He knew that they hoped by some chance that Rebel might be the father, because they knew that Rebel would take care of his responsibility. Though he was gritty, ragged, and rough around the edges, Rebel was known to be a man
who took pride in taking care of his own.

  Lucky for me, I know how to count, Rebel thought as an amused expression grew in his eyes. Rebel did the math, and he knew without a shadow of a doubt, that the baby was not his.

  “But Rebel-“ Kayla began again but she was abruptly cut off by a loud, raspy voice from the kitchen.

  “Hey sweet cheeks! Don’t you have tables to wait on?!” Jake bellowed as he emerged from the kitchen door. “Sorry folks, show’s over! Your waitress will be around with your food.”

  Rebel laughed as he heard his friend’s voice. Turning around, he faced Jake who greeted him with a smile.

  “Now there’s a face I’m happy to see…” said Rebel as he slapped his buddy’s hand.

  “How you doin’ man?!” Jake asked as he slapped Rebel playfully on his back. He looked genuinely happy to see his friend after so long.

  “Good! Can’t complain… Nobody would listen anyway,” Rebel said with a chuckle. “So,” Rebel said pointing with a thumb at his ex. “Good help hard to come by these days?”

  Jake smirked. “It’s a goddamn famine around here. That work ethic we were instilled with? It doesn’t seem to stick to most women ‘round here…”

  A satisfied expression took over Rebel’s face. “I think I know of one woman who broke the mold…” Rebel said happily. “Is Sam still around?”

  A knowing look took over Jake’s face. Nodding at his buddy, he replied, “Sure is. You know where to find her. Always working on somebody’s ride.”

  “Cool…” Rebel said as he leaned in closer to his friend. “See you at the lot around seven.”

  “You know it,” Jake replied.

  Without another word, Rebel turned to leave. He walked straight out of the restaurant and into the parking lot where he had parked his Harley. As he revved the engine of his bike, letting everyone know he was there, Kayla pulled out her cellphone. She dialed the number for someone she had named “Daddy” in her phone.

  “Hey Cedro… Rebel’s back… and he’s already causing trouble.”

  Dusk fell over Clayton, West Virginia as the roadside sign over Sam’s Garage flickered on. Beach chairs were scattered throughout the garage’s parking lot. Levi organized them in a circle while Ryan lugged a metal firepit across the yard. Plopping it down in the center, he doused the firewood and dropped a match creating a hearty bonfire for friends to gather around.

  “How ya like them apples!” Ryan exclaimed as he pointed to the fire he created. Samantha, who was standing by the garage, clapped her hands in a most sarcastic manner. “Rebel’s not the only one ‘round here who brings the heat!” Ryan said in a boisterous manner.

  Samantha shook her head as she rolled her eyes at her brother’s lame joke. “Ooooh yeah!” she began, still rolling her eyes. “I am so impressed! Ryan Braun… God of Fire!”

  While Levi was howling with laughter behind him, Ryan was casting an incredulous look at his sister.

  “Y’all are just a bunch of haters!” he exclaimed.

  Just then, a burly man carrying a big cooler in his hands, walked into the yard, casting Ryan a bewildered look from his weathered face.

  “Picking on half stack again?” the man named Walker asked as he gave a coy look at Sam. She smirked a little as she took in the sight of their old friend. He was looking a little haggard today, the wiry hair of his black beard was doing whatever it pleased, giving Walker an unkempt appearance.

  “Well,” Samantha said in a playful tone of voice. “I mean, he just makes it so darn easy…” Samantha let out a high-pitched laugh as she watched her brother roll his eyes at her. But then he spotted the cooler that Walker was carrying, and he changed the subject.

  “Oh, good. The beer’s here. Bout damn time you showed up!” Ryan exclaimed.

  “Just for that,” Walker said as he tossed a pissy look Ryan’s way. “You ain’t getting’ none,” he continued to say as he lowered himself into a rickety beach chair. To show he was serious, he plopped the cooler down on the ground, and propped his feet up on top, preventing anyone, Ryan especially, from being able to open the lid and steal a beer. His dusty work boots left scuffs on the top of the cooler. That didn’t matter to any of them, though. The bottles inside were well protected.

  Then, effectively breaking the conversation, the beautiful sound of a well-tuned, vintage V-twin engine ripped down Sayer Road. The bike kicked up a cloud of dirt as it sped around the perimeter of the garage’s lot.

  Levi took a seat next to Walker. Pointing to the cooler in which Walker’s boots were resting upon, Levi hinted that he wanted to steal a beer.

  Ryan scoffed in dismay as he watched Walker pass his brother a beer. “The fuck, man!”

  “Levi asked nicely,” Walker said giving Ryan a glare.

  “I didn’t even hear him say nothin’!” Ryan exclaimed.

  “I got the message,” Walker said with a chuckle. “Go drink the piss warm beer in the garage…”

  “Quit your bellyachin’… there’s a 6 pack of Landshark in the fridge…” Sam said to her brother, pointing over her shoulder with a thumb. Then, furrowing her eyebrows and narrowing her gaze upon him, she spat out, “But don’t touch my whiskey!”

  “Yeah, yeah!” Ryan said. “Such a refined lady… you and your whiskey… God forbid you stick to girly drinks.”

  “Hey,” Samantha said with a bite. “You’re the one drinking light beer, bitch.”

  Ryan’s mouth gaped open as he stared at his little sister in utter shock. “Well, God damn!”

  Just a second later Levi and Walker were falling over themselves, heaving with laughter. “Guess she told you!”

  “Jake’s here…” Ryan said, trying to ignore the teases and the taunts from everyone.

  “Hope he’s in a good mood…” Sam add with a laugh.

  “Shit,” Ryan reacted. “Would you be in a good mood if you had to work with Rebel’s dipshit ex?”

  “Well,” Sam replied coyly. She tapped on her bottom lip three times. “If we’re being technical… you do work with Rebel’s ex…” referring to her own relationship with Rebel back in high school.

  Ryan raised a hand to his forehead, as he tried to massage away the headache that was forming from his friend’s endless banter.

  “Y’all ain’t done and you know it!” Ryan insisted. “The way he looks at you. The way you blush and look away… Jesus H. Christ! It’s plain as day!”

  “It is,” Walker agreed. “So freakin’ obvious.”

  Levi didn’t say a word. He just raised his beer bottle and gave his sister a knowing look.

  “Besides,” Ryan continued. “You know who I’m referring to!” Ryan said with a tinge of annoyance in his voice.

  Sam’s lip curled up in disgust. “I wouldn’t be too happy working with that spoiled ass powder puff, either,” Sam admitted.

  “Fuckin’ slut. Can’t believe what she did to Rebel,” Levi opined.

  “I can’t believe what the whole lot of them did to him. Kayla. Cedro. The whole Renegade family.”

  “Us, too...” Walker reminded Sam. “It’s the reason why none of us wear the cut anymore.”

  “Fuck the cut,” Ryan griped. “Somethings are more important.”

  “We swore an oath of loyalty…” Levi reminded everyone.

  “My loyalty is to Rebel, my friends, and my family,” Samantha added.

  “Same,” Walker added. “And with all my friends leaving the MC, and the way they did Rebel dirty… my loyalty lies here.”

  “Here, here!” Levi said raising his glass.

  Jake got off his bike, and joined his group of friends by the bonfire. “Rebel is here. He’s on his way.”

  I knew that he would come, Samantha thought. But despite the advance notice, nothing quite prepares me to face him again. Rebel Reed is the reason the word brooding was coined in the first place, Samantha thought. Nothing could refrain me from thinking so. The man oozed angst. Equal parts rage and redemption, sadness and sin. He carried himself in
such a way that it wasn’t just the women whose heads turned. The men looked, too, trailing Rebel’s every move as if he was a king returning home to his court. Shit. He was a king in every sense of the word. The myth preceded the man. Before his bike had even crossed the West Virginia border, rumors had begun to swirl. He would come back. He would not stand for Tug’s murder. He would claim recompense for the men responsible. Rebel, the dragon nomad, and the heir to the Renegade dynasty, had his heart set on revenge. People spoke of his cruelty. People spoke of his rage. People can talk all they want, though. They don’t know the Rebel I know. They assumed him a monster because of his past. But I know his secrets. Though the others cowered from him, I see right through the scar tissue and the scorn. I see Rebel for the man he truly is.

  I washed my hands of the MC the second I found out what they did to him. The whole charter was corrupt. But hell, everybody knew that. I thought that some bonds went deeper than that. I was wrong. Dead wrong. The ties that binded me to Clayton, West Virginia were severed in the blink of an eye. So, too, was my loyalty to the club that had marked him for dead. Guys joined the club for a sense of duty, a sense of importance, brotherhood, and a family that went deeper than blood. We still have all that on the other side. The life beyond the MC is getting brighter every single day. That doesn’t mean that I don’t fear the repercussions that come from our great slight. In Cedro’s eyes, we owed him a great debt… and the collectors would be coming for retribution. We had something for them, though. We would not go quietly into that great night. We would not silently give in to the cowards at the club. We would fight. We would prey. We would seek the redemption we all deserved. Everyone in Clayton, West Virginia knew that Rebel would return when Tug turned up dead. And when he does, the Renegades would be waiting for him. One thing the MC is not quite counting on was the war that Rebel was bringing with him. He would not stand for this, and this time, the Dragon Nomad had reinforcements. I will die before I let them take him from me again.