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He knows, I think, swallowing the lump in my throat. Or at least, he suspects. And if Control figures it all out, it is only a matter of time before he decides to rain his own version of justice down on Leon and the Sons of Gods.
“Keep it together, Rebellion,” I mutter under my breath as I hurry down the dimly lit hallway, my boots echoing off the floor. I need to get away from here to regroup and figure out what to do next. But more than anything, I need to put some distance between myself and my father.
I’m almost to the clubhouse exit when Rager steps in, blocking my way.
“Dammit,” I mutter to myself.
“Leaving so soon?” Rager smirks, stepping closer. The shadows cast by the dim light dance across his face, accentuating the rough lines and scars that mar his skin. “Why don’t you stick around? We can have some more fun.”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” I reply curtly, my heart racing as I glance around surreptitiously, looking for an escape route. I need to get out of here, away from his invasive presence.
Away from Control.
Away from the whole Burning Heretics club.
But the only exit is blocked by Rager’s looming form.
“Suit yourself,” he says with a shrug, though the predatory glint in his eyes tells me he isn’t going to let me go that easily. “Just remember, I’m always around if you change your mind.”
“Right, I’ll keep that in mind,” I respond sarcastically, attempting to sidestep him. My pulse hammers in my ears, drowning out all other sounds as I pray he doesn’t stop me.
Rager smirks and steps aside, allowing me a narrow path to the door. As I squeeze past him, I can’t help but shudder at his proximity, feeling his gaze on me like a physical touch. The moment I’m free of his looming figure, I hurry toward the door, hoping my legs won’t betray me by giving out beneath me.
“See you soon, Rebellion,” Rager calls out mockingly as I make my hasty exit, his laughter sending chills down my spine.
“Over my dead body,” I whisper to myself, already plotting how to avoid another encounter with him.
* * *
A light wind blows through the car window and ruffles my hair as I sit in the parking lot of my apartment complex, my hands shaking with the weight of the decision I am about to make. Control has just nonchalantly offered me up to Rager like a pawn in his twisted games, and that realization makes my stomach churn.
“Damn it,” I mutter, clenching my fists. A fierce resolve settles over me. I know I can’t stay with the Burning Heretics any longer—not given what they are planning, not when my own father is willing to sacrifice me. As much as it pains me, I know where my loyalty truly belongs: with Leon, even if that means betraying the Burning Heretics to the Sons of Gods motorcycle club.
I pull out my phone, my fingers trembling as I dial Leon’s number. It rings once, twice, then three times before he picks up.
“Rebellion?” His voice is tinged with concern, and I can picture him frowning on the other end of the line. “What’s going on?”
“Leon, I . . .” I hesitate, my heart pounding in my chest. “I need to tell you something.”
“Go ahead, I’m listening.” His tone is gentle and reassuring, and that small kindness nearly breaks me.
“Rager, one of my father’s men . . . he kissed me,” I blurt out, hating the way my voice cracks. “When I went to get my art supplies, he cornered me and . . . he kissed me against my will.”
“Son of a bitch,” Leon growls, rage simmering beneath his words. I can feel his anger radiating through the phone, and it makes me feel safer somehow.
“Wait, there’s more,” I rush to add before he can say anything else. “I’ve made a decision. I want to support the Sons of Gods, no matter what you guys decide to do. I can’t stay with the Burning Heretics anymore.”
“Rebellion . . .” Leon’s voice is thick with emotion, but he doesn’t hesitate. “We’ll protect you. I promise. You won’t be alone in this.”
I let out a shaky breath, my heart swelling with gratitude. At that moment, I knew I’d made the right choice—and I would do whatever it took to help Leon, and the Sons of Gods put an end to my father’s cruel reign.
“Rebellion, why did you—”
“Doesn’t matter,” I cut him off, not wanting to delve into that right now. “I know what the Burning Heretics are planning to do next. They’re willing to work with a Colombian drug cartel. Let them take over Birmingham’s drug trade.”
“If they go through with this, it’ll be a disaster for everyone involved.”
“I know,” I agree, my stomach churning with anxiety. “And I can’t just sit back and watch it happen. I want to help you put a stop to it, no matter the cost.”
