Rebel Revenge (Saint View Rebels Book 1)

I woke up in an MC clubhouse with a crick in my neck and two women wrapped around me.

Neither was the one I really wanted to be naked with though. She was down the hall somewhere, probably still asleep, since I couldn’t hear her moans and cries of pleasure anymore.

Thank fuck.

Amber stirred, blinked her eyes open, and smiled at me. “Hey, handsome. You have fun last night?”

I pulled my arm out from beneath Kiki’s head and scrubbed a hand over my face. Fun? Sure. Getting off was always fun. But it had been mixed in with a whole heap of frustration because I couldn’t get the image of my stepsister riding some guy’s face out of my head.

Or the things I’d said to her.

Ugh.

Amber reached beneath the blankets and circled my morning wood with her fingers.

I jerked out of her grasp and clambered over Kiki. “I should go. It’s gotta be getting late.”

Amber sat up and pouted at me, round fake tits like melons on her chest.

They were hot. But not what I wanted.

Rebel’s sweet, perky tits were.

I found my pants on the floor and yanked them up, buttoning the fly. My dad’s car keys jabbed me in the thigh, which reminded me I’d left my phone somewhere too. I located that by removing a lacy pink bra from a lamp table and found my phone sitting silently beneath it.

I poked the screen and cringed at the messages that popped up. Several calls from my lawyer. I put on my shirt, kissed Amber on the cheek, told her I’d see her around, and to tell Kiki thanks for a great night.

She was still pouting when I opened the door, but then my phone rang, and I couldn’t worry about her anymore.

Nathan the lawyer again. That couldn’t be good.

Something heavy hit the door of the room to my right, and an annoyed bellow came from the other side. “Somebody shut that fucking phone up! Some of us are trying to sleep!”

Pissing off a club full of burly bikers was probably not the smartest idea. I hustled down the hall to the communal area, where the party had taken place last night. I could barely look at the two brown leather couches that had been the scene of a really good time. The rest of the room was a complete disaster, with empty bottles, half-eaten pizza, and various stray articles of clothing strewn about, just waiting for someone to wake up and get their clean on. I took a seat at the sticky bar, trying not to touch the counter, and answered the call. “What’s up, Nathan?”

“’Bout fucking time you answered. I have great news.”

His voice was entirely too chipper for this time of the morning. Though when I glanced out the window, the sun was pretty high, so it maybe wasn’t as early as I’d initially thought. “Get on with it then.”

“Your stepsister is going down for the murder of your dad.”

“What?” Surprise forced the word out louder than expected. There was another shout from down the hall, but this time I didn’t care. “Say more words, Nathan.”

“I’ve got a buddy down at the station. I hit him up for some details on where they were at with the investigation into your father’s death, and he said they’re pinning it on the girl. Your name was on the suspect list too, but I sorted that out.”

My head spun. “How?”

“Money talks in this town, Vaughn. You know that.”

I gripped the countertop, nails bending against the unyielding laminate. “Rebel didn’t kill our parents. She loved her mom. Have you met her? She’s pint-sized. She couldn’t murder a fly.”

“That’s part of their case against her. Don’t need to be big to poison someone.”

“Poison…” I shook my head. “She was with me the night before the wedding. And the morning of. Rebel didn’t poison anyone.”

He sighed. “I really thought you’d be more excited about this. This is good news for your case. If she’s tied up in jail for the rest of her life, the money and the property and the business are all yours. If she’s deemed the murderer, it’s an open-and-shut case to get the entire estate awarded to you. That is what you wanted, Vaughn. That’s what you told me you needed, to take care of your wife’s…indiscretions.”

I lowered my voice to a hiss. “I never said I wanted an innocent woman in jail to do it.”

“You don’t know she’s innocent. The autopsy report said that poison could have been ingested anywhere from two to forty-eight hours before they collapsed. Do you know where she was for every minute of that time?”

I didn’t. But my gut said they were wrong about this. So freaking wrong.

“Cancel the contest to the will, Nathan. I already told you once, but actually hear me this time. I changed my mind. And for fuck’s sake, get me whatever the cops have on my father’s and Miranda’s deaths. I need to know everything.”

“But I—”

“Do you want to keep your job?”

Nathan huffed down the line. “Well, of course, but I would—”

“Then do as I fucking say!”

I slammed my finger down on the end call button so hard my knuckle cracked in protest.

When I looked up, Fang was in the space between the living room and the hallway to the bedrooms. His face was like thunder.

I put my hands up. “Sorry. Sorry. I didn’t mean to yell and wake everyone up.”

“What’s going on with Rebel?” His words were as deadly and cold as black ice. “I heard your side of the conversation, and I didn’t like any of it. Don’t tell me I brought you into this clubhouse only to find you’re some sort of rat, making deals behind her back or throwing her under the bus.”

We stared at each other across the room. I had no idea whether telling him was the right thing to do, but then I wasn’t leaving without Rebel. She needed to know what she was up against. I needed to do something. “Cops are pinning our parents’ deaths on her.”

Fang shook his head. “No.”

“That’s what I said.”

“I’m going down to the police station.”

“Good.” I shook my keys in his direction and pushed to my feet. “I’ll drive.”

“Neither of you are going down there,” Rebel announced from behind Fang’s broad back.

I hadn’t even noticed her standing there because he took up so much of the room.

Fang put his hand to the back of her neck. “Pix, it’s bad. They’re—”

“Pinning it on me. Yeah, I know. I already had the pleasure of speaking to them.”

I blinked. “You knew?”

Fang glared at her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She shrugged. “Because I knew you’d lose it like you did when you saw Leonn at the hospital.”

Fang dropped his gaze to the floor, probably knowing she was right. Every muscle in his body was stiff with holding himself back. I could tell, because I felt the same way. I wanted to storm out of the door, drive down to the station, and demand to know why they were wasting their time concentrating on Rebel when the real killer was out there somewhere.

My father would roll over in his grave if I let the woman he’d wanted taken care of go to jail for his murder.

I’d already been such a disappointment to him. I couldn’t deal with the thought of continuing that.

But Rebel’s glare was all business. I had a feeling she’d throw herself in front of my car if Fang and I tried to make a getaway in it.

“Sit. Both of you.”

Fang immediately did as he was told, slumping down onto the couch.

I had reservations. “On the sex couch, bro? Really? No one has even cleaned that thing yet.”

Fang raised one eyebrow. “Is that what’s really bothering you? Or the fact you can’t stop thinking about how I licked her pussy ’til she coated my face in—”

“Okay! That’s about enough of that,” Rebel butted in, her cheeks pink. “Sit somewhere. I don’t care. But Vaughn, we need to talk.”

I eyed Fang, feeling punchy. “If it’s about the way you came because I told you to—”

She cut me off with a glare, and I conceded with a smirk.

“Fine. Fine. I’m sitting.”

“Can we just forget last night happened and never talk about it again, please?” she asked.

I didn’t want to do that, but I wasn’t going to argue. Especially since Fang was nodding. Of course he was. He was the lucky bastard who’d had her in his room all night. I’d be feeling pretty smug if that had been me too.

Rebel brushed her hands off, like that was all taken care of, then turned to Fang. “Can I get a big sheet of paper and a marker, please?”

I lifted my head. “What for?”

But Fang didn’t question her. He stood and disappeared into a room with a ‘private’ name plaque on the door and returned a moment later with a poster-sized sheet of paper and a black Sharpie. “This do?”

She took them from him, kissed his cheek, and knelt on the floor in front of a low coffee table.

“We playing school?” I asked her. “You want to be the teacher or the student?”

She raised an eyebrow at me. “We all know the girl from Saint View could teach you things beyond your wildest imagination, Vaughn.”

I frowned at her. “I’m the one who had a threesome last night.”

Fang glanced over at me, laughter flickering at his lips. “He said that like it was something out of the ordinary. Was that baby’s first group sex experience?”

I didn’t respond.

Rebel’s mouth dropped open. “Shit! I think you’re right.” She peered at me. “You were a threesome virgin?”

“I’ve been with my wife since I was nineteen. I didn’t exactly get a whole lot of time for fooling around.”

They looked at each other and laughed.

Rebel side-eyed me. “Fuck. Thirty-something and only ever had one partner. You have done other positions, right? Or are you strictly a missionary man?”

Heat crept up the back of my neck. “Just tell us what the paper and marker are for, would you? Nobody cares about how many threesomes I’ve had.”

“I don’t know. It’s kinda fun watching you squirm.” Fang folded his arms behind his head and leaned back on the couch, a shit-eating grin playing all over his face.

Rebel pressed her teeth down on her lip, like she was biting back amusement, and slowly let it pop out. “Okay. Enough teasing Mr. Vanilla. If you two actually want to help me, instead of running down to the cop shop and getting yourselves arrested, here’s what you can do. Help me work out other suspects. If the cops are determined to pin it on me, then we need to give them other places and people to investigate.”

She uncapped the marker and scrawled “Suspects” across the top of the page.

“What are you, fifteen?” I muttered, watching her draw a bubble-shaped cloud around the word.

She glared at me, then wrote down her first suspect’s name.

“Me!” I shouted indignantly. “Are you serious?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Hey, if I’m a suspect because of the inheritance, you should be too.”

She was right. But it didn’t matter. “My lawyer paid the cops to not look in my direction.”

Rebel shook her head then put an asterisk next to my name. “That”—she stabbed her pen into the paper—“means I suspect you even more now.”

I rolled my eyes. “It wasn’t me.”

“That’s what Ted Bundy said too.”

I groaned. “How about we add some other names to the list? Like Fang.”

Fang laughed. “Why me? What’s my motive?”

“I don’t know. Miranda was pretty hot. Maybe you wanted to trade the family car for the Lamborghini.”

Rebel threw the marker lid at me. “Did you just call me a family car, Vaughn Weston? Can you even make it through one full day without being an asshole?”

“Apparently not.”

“I’m not putting Fang on the list. That’s ridiculous. Who else? How about your mom and stepdad?”

I shook my head. “Not a chance. My dad literally stepped aside so the two of them could get married. If anyone would want to kill anyone out of that threesome, it should be my dad wanting to kill my mom. But that was twenty years ago anyway. Would be a long time to hold a grudge if you were upset enough to wait this long.”

Rebel tapped the marker on the tabletop. “That checks with what my mom said about your parents. Shame.”

“Shame my mom isn’t a murderer? Nice, Roach.”

She flipped me the bird. “They’re going on the list, but not with an asterisk. Yours still stands.”

I rolled my eyes. “What about your dad?”

“Tenneson? Please. Haven’t seen him since I was about three. So that’s doubtful.”

“He should still go on the list. Along with your mom’s exes. Jealousy is a big motive for murder.”

She started writing. “Give me a minute. There’s a few.”

I waited while she wrote down a list of names.

Fang peered over her shoulder. “Ugh, Linden Whitchel? I hate that guy.”

“Yeah, me too.” Rebel put an asterisk next to his name. “She could pick ’em.”

“I’ll try not to be insulted on my father’s behalf,” I muttered.

They both ignored me, and eventually Rebel got to the end of her mother’s little black book.

“Guess your dad didn’t have any other exes?”

I shook my head. “One and done.”

“Aw, like father, like son,” Fang mocked.

I was really beginning to hate that guy.

Rebel ignored him. “Give me someone else who would have benefited from your dad being dead?”

I mused on that for a moment. “My wife, I guess. If I get money, so does she, since we’re still legally married.”

Rebel asked me how to spell her name, and I gave her the letters so she could write them down. “His business partner too. Harold Coker.”

Rebel scribbled that across the page too. “This is good. The list is getting long.”

“I think you need to think outside their immediate circles too. Who else had opportunity? The judge?”

Rebel peered at me. “I don’t remember her name.”

I didn’t either, but I was sure I could find it. “Just put judge for now. She’s a bit of a long shot anyway, but we can look it up if need be. Hotel staff would have also had opportunity. Dad and Miranda both stayed in the hotel for two nights before the ceremony.”

“Friends of your mom’s?”

“She didn’t have many.” Rebel cleared her throat. “Speaking of friends, though… Kian.”

I frowned. “That’s as stupid as accusing me.”

“Is it? He was close to your dad. People are more likely to be murdered by someone close to them than some random hotel employee.”

“I’ve known Kian since I was a kid. He didn’t do it.”

It really freaking irked me Rebel wrote his name down on the list anyway.

My leg bounced like it had a mind of its own. I didn’t know what had come over me last night. Rebel was the pain in my ass I’d first assumed her to be. “I think that list is pretty comprehensive. I’m sure the cops will be grateful for it.”

Rebel and Fang both gave me that, “Oh, he’s so sweet and innocent” look.

I was getting really sick of them doing that. “What?” I demanded.

“You’re such a Providence boy at heart, aren’t you? Must be nice to assume the cops will actually do their job, just because you’re a rich white guy. We aren’t all as lucky as you, with the ability to just pay them off.” Rebel put the lid back on the marker and sat back, reading over the names she’d added to the paper. “We aren’t making this list to hand over to them, Vaughn. We’re investigating it ourselves. You going to help? Make use of all those Law and Order episodes you used to watch?”

My wife’s threats rang in the back of my head. If the cops had taken me off their suspect list, then I needed to get back to Cali. As much as I didn’t want to be married to Brooke, I didn’t want her dead either. We’d been together since we were nineteen. There was no forgiving the way she’d lied and cheated. She’d ruined everything good between us. But every day I stayed here was another day she was alone, just waiting for an ambush. That didn’t sit right with me.

I wasn’t wanted here. Kian had made that clear. And Rebel…last night hadn’t changed anything between us. It was just sex. Not a big deal. I didn’t need to be here to take care of her. I’d make sure she had money. She had Kian and Fang for whatever else she needed. “I’ll talk to the cops for you, but I’m not some sort of private investigator. We need to leave that to the professionals. I’m sorting out this will and the funeral and then I’m out of here.”

Rebel’s face fell, her voice turning quiet and cold. “Fine. I’ll send you a postcard from prison.”

I blinked, shocked at the way one single sentence set my plans to flames. I barely knew Rebel. I should have just been able to walk away. And yet I knew if I did, that expression on her face would haunt me. “Fuck, you do guilt trips better than my mom does. Like seriously, did you take a course on that or something? Is it just a chick thing?”

She didn’t say anything.

Her silence screamed in my head, mixing with memories of her bruises and the shitty little apartment she’d lived in. Images from last night replayed over and over, her head thrown back in pleasure, hips rolling, wild, free, and so fucking beautiful. She had friends who loved her. A job she adored.

I craved what she had.

I craved her.

Last night had proved that.

“Fine,” I said stiffly. “Let me take another look at that. I guess we have some work to do.”

I tried to ignore the way she beamed at me. It did things to my insides that only cemented the idea, even if I did run back to California, she wouldn’t be so easy to forget.