Page 9 of Rebels & Rejects
“You know this can’t continue, right?”
She nods but doesn’t lift her head to look at me.
“It’s not a safe environment for her,” I push. “If he’s already hurting her, just think about what he might do in the future.”
She nods again. “I know. I know. But I’m scared.”
I squeeze her shoulder and nudge her, so she looks up at me. Her eyes are wet and clouded with fear. “Let me take care of it.” My words are pleading, yet there’s an insistence behind them that I’m hoping she will heed. Even though I’m expecting her to tell me to leave it, the way she hesitates, gnawing on her bottom lip as she mulls over the idea, gives me hope. I mean, I’m killing him either way, but I’d feel a hell of a lot better about it if Sheryl was on board.
I push harder. “You can’t take her back there, Sheryl. She deserves better. Do you want her to end up trapped in this town, just like us?”
She frowns, and it takes a long moment before she responds, “O-okay... do whatever it is you do.”
Sheryl doesn’t know much about the late-night activities I get up to when I’m not at the club, nevertheless I’ve offered to permanently remove Python from her life enough times that she knows I’m not just saying it for the sake of it. The first time I brought it up, she laughed me off, but when I mentioned it again, I knew she could see how serious I was. I wasn’t half as experienced back then as I am now, but I’d have done it for Sheryl. For Grace.
I run my eyes over her face, giving her a chance to change her mind. I can see the resolve in her eyes, though. Tonight—him hurting Grace—has crossed a line for her. She might finally be starting to accept the toxic relationship she’s in.
We don’t say much else as I pull her down onto the bed and lie down beside her. It takes a while, but eventually I hear her soft snores. As I lie there, I stare up at the bottom of the top bunk, where Grace is sleeping soundly, and mull over various plans. It won’t be the easiest job I’ve had—getting to Python—but it’s definitely doable. Being the leader of a gang, he will have a certain level of protection around him at all times, despite that I’m hopeful their arrogance is a weakness I can use to my advantage.
Regardless of the obstacles in my way, my blood hums at the challenge and the knowledge that one more scumbag will soon meet his fate. I live for this. It gives me a sense of purpose and allows me to sleep easier at night. It’s not enough for me to just struggle from one day to the next, doing a job I hate and abandoning any principles I might otherwise have if I had a choice in this life. At least, this way, I’m contributing something to this fucked-up world.
Chapter 4
My thighs burn, and my body is stiff from crouching for so long. I’m hidden in the shadows of an empty lot across the way from the dilapidated house that the Satan’s have claimed as their main base. They seem to have taken over most of the street, but the place I’m watching is Python’s, and it’s where they currently have a rager of a party underway. I’ve spent the last couple of days watching them from afar, learning their movements. I already knew the basic things about them—that they drink too much and do too many drugs, that they usually spend their days harassing citizens, and that they like to hang out at Toxic on a Friday night, but I don’t know anything aboutthem.
In order to figure out the best way of getting to Python, I need to learn what security measures they have, pinpoint their weaknesses, and identify my window of opportunity where I’m least likely to be seen or caught. So far, it appears the Satan’s are more concerned with getting high than with delegating anyone to the task of security. Even as I watch their house now, people are coming and going freely like it’s any other house party. It seems ridiculous to me, but it works in my favor.
Leaning down, I unzip my duffle bag and shimmy out of my black skinny jeans, switching them out for a short skirt that matches the skin-tight crop top I’m wearing. I shrug out of my leather jacket and stuff it along with my pants into the bag before lifting out a blonde wig. Ensuring my unique, red strands are carefully hidden beneath it, I get to my feet and slip through a hole in the chain-link fence onto the sidewalk.
With slow, unhurried steps and an exaggerated sway of my hips, I cross the street and step into the house. Nobody tries to stop me or ask any questions. I have to restrain my eye roll at how fucking easy it is. I knew the Satan’s maintaining their place of power for this long had gone to their heads, but this is fucking ridiculous. They’re just asking for someone to strut in here and gun them all down.Hmm, tempting.
As I cross the threshold, I’m immediately bombarded by the deafening boom of horrendous rap music and suffocated by the stench of sweat, alcohol, and utter hopelessness. I’m in a narrow entryway, with stairs in front of me leading to the floor above. The room on my right is lit by flashing neon lights, and I can barely see through the dense crowd of drunk and high dancers. Ignoring them for now, I turn left into a brightly lit, old-fashioned kitchen, the countertops overflowing with bottles of beer and spirits.
There are plenty of people in here too, snorting cocaine off the small, linoleum-topped table, fucking in the corner, and getting wasted on cheap alcohol. I ignore them all as I do a sweep of the room, grabbing a beer and twisting off the cap on my way past. There are a couple of Satan’s in here, unfortunately not the one I’m looking for. Taking in their glazed-over eyes and the red tinge around their noses as they watch me walk by, I’m guessing they won’t remember even seeing me in the morning.Good.
Moving back into the hall, I glance up the stairs, taking a long tug of my beer before climbing them to a small landing with four doors leading off it. I put my ear to the first door, hearing the distinct sounds of people fucking before I move on to the next room. There aren’t any sounds coming from behind it, but it’s locked when I turn the doorknob.
Out of the final two doors, one is a grimy bathroom, with black grout in the sink, the toilet seat up, and what I’m pretty sure is piss covering the floor. Scowling in disgust, I toss my now empty beer bottle into the room, not giving a shit that it breaks, and tiny fragments of glass spread out all over the floor. I close the door and move on to the final room, hearing the sound of more sex coming from behind the door.
Now that I’ve got a general layout of the house, I head down the stairs and into the only room that’s left, where the rest of the Satan’s must be hanging out. It takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, but as I push my way through the packed crowd of dancers, I spot them spread out on chairs and couches along the back wall, ignoring the rest of the room while they put on their own show of fucking and snorting drugs. There in the middle, with a girl sucking him off, is Python, with his greasy hair slicked back and an overgrown beard that desperately needs a comb run through it. He’s a large, burly man with a bit of a beer belly and a snake tattoo that winds around his neck. I thinkhethinks it makes him look intimidating.Ithink it just makes him look like a fucking idiot.
I have to force my face not to contort at the sight of him as I dance to the shitty music they have pumping through the stereo in an attempt to blend in with the crowd. He clearly doesn’t give a shit about where Sheryl is or if she’s okay. Not that I expected him to, but seeing him here, partying like it’s any other night while he lets some random skank give him a blow job, just drives the reality home for me. Is this the life Sheryl and Grace have been living? Where the fuck do they even sleep? There’s no way Grace could be in this house when there’s a party raging like this.
All of it only serves to heat the blood in my veins, although I’m sure the shitty beer is helping with that too. I’ve had to rebuff several guys by the time I notice Python shove the girl away and tuck himself back in his pants. I watch as his eyes scan the room, and I give him a coy look when his gaze meets mine.
A cocky smirk lifts one side of his lips, and as I trail my fingers down the side of my neck and between the valley of my breasts, his eyes drop to follow. His smirk deepens, clearly pleased with what he sees.Good. I feel a warm presence at my back, and rather than moving away from whichever new asshole is trying his luck, I lean into him. Knowing Python will hate my dismissal of him, I look away instead of focusing on the guy behind me, not really seeing him as I mentally count down the seconds.
Five. Four. Three. Two...
“Get the fuck out of here.”
Right on time.
Python’s deep, possessive growl resonates from behind me, and without having to be told twice, the guy whose hands are on my hips flinches and scurries away through the crowd, and Python’s hands replace his as he steps in front of me. I look up at him through my eyelashes, noticing his gaze glued to my chest.Charming.
“You must be new around here. I’d definitely remember an ass like that.”
Oh, how you make me swoon with your romantic words.