Page 36 of Rebellious

“Maybe I should go with him, Mom?”

Aunt Meggie shook her head. “No, CJ. Rebel asked to see Diesel alone. She’s been through enough today. That’s why Kaia’s here.”

Diesel didn’t wait to hear more. This time when he pressed the button, the doors opened. Aunt Meggie must’ve alerted the nurse’s station.

Outside of Rebel’s door, he halted. When Rule tried to drown her, she’d been awake and in pain the morning Diesel left. By the time he returned that night, she was heavily sedated. No, fuck, she’d been in what amounted to a medically induced coma because of her collapsed lung.

Suppose…?

Fuck, she’d just texted him. She was fine. Before he lost complete control, Diesel pushed open the door and halted. Rebel lay in bed, the upper portion elevated to a forty-five-degree angle. Instead of the damp tangles of hair he’d seen earlier, one long, thick braid rested against her shoulder. Tenderness welled inside of him at her pale cheeks and tear-swollen eyes.

An internal war raged, but her vulnerability lowered his defenses. He walked to her bedside, leaned down and almost did what he’d wanted to do for weeks: give into temptation and brush his mouth over hers. Instead, he kissed her cheek.

She sighed. Parted her mouth.

He forced himself to ignore her invitation and crushed her to him in a tight hug. She clung to him, and he allowed it. He allowed her to use him as her solace, her calm in the storm. That had always been his role and always would be. Protect Rebel. Protect her brothers. “What were you thinking?”

“I didn’t have a chance to think one way or the other. If I’d paused, Jana would be dead.”

He refused to discuss Jana. He straightened. “You wanted to see me?”

“Daddy left,” she started, cocking her head to the side. “Uncle Mort and Uncle Val went with him.”

“Probably club business,” Diesel answered, concerned. It explained their absence but only dire circumstances would pull Uncle Christopher away from Rebel’s bedside. “I’ll check into it. Don’t bother yourself with that right not. My concern is you and—”

“Some dude named Mickey had a key to the condo,” Rebel cut in, studying him closely.

Diesel snapped his brows together. “What condo?”

“Yours and Tabitha’s.”

Tabitha, that fucking bitch, gave another man—a club enemy—a key to the fucking condo and then schemed to have Diesel move back into the place. Either Diesel would’ve walked in on her and Mickey and gotten into a deadly fight or that motherfucker would’ve ambushed Diesel with that cunt’s blessings.

“Fuck that bitch,” he blurted before he caught himself.

“I heard Momma on the phone with Daddy. Something about a drug overdose. I think your wife is dead.”

“I don’t think she overdosed,” Rebel pressed. As usual, she refused to back down until she got what she wanted. In this case, answers. “I think you killed Tabitha and jeopardized the peace agreement to avenge Jana.”

It took a moment for Rebel’s words to catch up to Diesel’s racing thoughts. Her belief that he’d ignore everything at stake for Jana stunned him. “I killed her to avenge you.”

Tears glistened in Rebel’s eyes. “But she didn’t set me up.”

“Unfortunately, she did.”

“She didn’t even know I was there!”

“No, but she knew Jana was there. The…her,” he amended, changing ‘their’ at the last minute, “her bullshit almost cost you your life and that’s fucking unforgivable. Your injuries are the end result of her need to get Jana out of the picture. I wish I could’ve set that bitch on fire.”

“Suppose Bash finds out? If he doesn’t kill you, Daddy will. Tabitha’s death puts Momma at risk for retaliation.”

And the entire club. But only if the truth ever came out.

“Should I have allowed her to live and pretend she wasn’t the architect of your misery?”

“You shouldn’t have risked Momma or the peace agreement,” Rebel growled. “You should’ve thought of something different.”

“According to you. According to me that bitch got what the fuck she deserved.”