Rebel Revenge (Saint View Rebels Book 1)

It took an hour of sitting in my car, giving myself a pep talk before I could force myself inside for my first shift back at Psychos. Even then, I had to chant under my breath about how Psychos was not to blame for everything that had happened after I’d left that night.

I’d been okay when I’d stopped in to talk to my friends. The place had been filled with bright sunlight and casual chitchat.

But something about the deep shadows outside and being back here to work had me on edge, reliving that night in my head over and over.

My gaze went straight to the end of the bar where Caleb had sat, calling himself by a different name, and completely charming me with his cute stories and all-American smile.

How fucking stupid I’d been.

A man appeared at my side, and I flinched before I realized who it was.

“How you doing, shorty?” Nash had a dishcloth wrapped around his fingers and his worried dad face on.

“Fine.”

“Bliss and I understand if you can’t come back yet. Now or…”

I glared at him. “Don’t you dare say ever.”

“No one would blame you.”

“I really love you, but if you say that to me again, I will take a pool cue and ram it in your poop hole. Capiche?”

Nash, well used to my mouth after years of being my boss, shrugged. “Right then. Now that that’s been settled, there’s a shipment of drinks to be put away, and it’s busy in here. Game’s on, and it’s a nail-biter. I’ll be in my office, keeping my poop hole intact if you need me.”

I fought not to smile at the man who’d become some sort of surrogate dad-big brother combo to me. “See that you do.”

Despite the threats of violence, the conversation had actually helped. It confirmed I could either work through the triggering feeling being back here brought on, or I could walk out the door and never come back.

This place was my home.

Caleb had already taken too much from me. I wasn’t letting him take this too. I had a family here. Giving up this job meant giving up on them. It wasn’t happening.

War watched me from the group of tables where his club always hung out. Fang wasn’t with them. He was still passed out in my bed when I’d left, which was a little worrying. War waved a hand in my direction, and I nodded back at him, but it didn’t relieve his concerned expression.

Bliss hurried out from behind the bar with a tray of drinks. She stopped when she saw me though. “Hey! You okay?”

I brushed her off. She didn’t need to be worrying about me when we had a bar full of patrons who needed food and drinks. I hurried to help, cranky at myself for sitting in the car so long, psyching myself up, when I could have been in here lending a hand.

From his usual spot, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, Vincent watched me too.

“What?” I asked him in exasperation. “Why is everyone staring at me? I’m not going to have a complete breakdown in the middle of the bar.”

He raised one eyebrow slowly. “I don’t know about everyone else, but I’m just looking at the massive booger hanging out of your nose.”

I flipped him the bird, realizing with that one comment it wasn’t Vincent at all. “I’d say it’s nice to have you here tonight, Scythe. But feel free to let me know when Vincent is back. You know he’s my favorite.”

Vincent had a diagnosed case of dissociative identity disorder, and Scythe was his psychopathic alter ego. Pointing out nonexistent nose fruit was a clear sign Scythe was in the building. Vincent had manners.

Scythe was funny though. I enjoyed his sense of humor when it was him at the controls. Even if I did adore his much sweeter, somewhat less murderous side.

They were Bliss’s guys. But they’d always had my back, and I loved them for it.

Except when they were all hovering like mother hens. Bliss might have liked feeling smothered, but I did not. It just made me more determined to put my demons with this place to bed and get back to the way things were before.

I’d put away all the drinks, collapsed all the cardboard boxes they’d come in, and had moved onto washing glasses when, “Hey, Roach,” came from the end of the bar.

I glanced up sharply, heart pounding at Vaughn’s tousled hair and dark-eyed smolder. Lust roared through me, hot and uncontrollable, based on nothing other than the pure stupid attraction I felt for the man.

It died the second I noticed where he was sitting. “Get out of that seat.”

Vaughn frowned and stared down at the stool beneath his ass. “What? Why? Is there something wrong with it?”

I couldn’t handle seeing him sit there. I grabbed his arm and yanked it to the left. “Any seat but that one. I can’t look at it.”

“Is that…?”

I nodded, breathing deep through my nose.

Vaughn got off the seat and switched to one at the opposite end of the bar.

I released the stranglehold I had on the scrubbing brush. “Sorry. I just…” Couldn’t deal.

“It’s cool. I get it. But while you’re triggered, I need to tell you something.”

I cringed. “Can it wait until I get home? If you’re going to tell me you’ve moved my shit out while I was working, fine. I’m not going to keep fighting you on it. Just tell me where you left my stuff and I’ll sleep in my car.”

“I didn’t touch your stuff. Not only because there’s a giant, kinda scary man in your bed and if I’d tried to rip your sheets out from beneath him, I don’t know that I would have survived to tell the tale.”

I fought a smile. He was annoyingly cute when he wasn’t being a dickhead. “Shoot then.”

“You’re not going to like this, but I talked to Caleb, Leonn, and Hugh today. That’s their names. The guys who attacked you.”

I let that sink in for a moment. “They sound like such nice, normal names, don’t they? Like, do you think when their mothers were gazing down at them in the hospital, picking out these proper, distinguished names, that they ever thought for a second their darling babies would turn into violent monsters?”

“I would hope, if they’d known, they’d have asked for a refund.”

I scrubbed at a lipstick mark on the rim of the glass clutched in my fingers. “Why were you talking to them? Just organizing to have a little bro catch-up?” It was an uncalled-for jab, but I barely knew Vaughn. I couldn’t trust him yet, even if my lady parts did get all excited at the sight of him. Something in my gut wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but my gut hadn’t done too well for me lately, so I was relying fully on my brain.

While ignoring the lust-filled thoughts that flooded it whenever he was around.

“No. I saw them at a coffee shop. Overheard Leonn freaking out about Fang’s little rampage through the hospital.”

I grinned at that. “No shit? He was rattled?”

“Very. Caleb threatened to sue you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course he fucking did. Anything to shut me up.” I peered at him, still not fully believing his story. “So you just happen to hang out at the same coffee shop as Caleb Black?”

“Guess so.” He ran neatly trimmed fingernails along the edge of a paper coaster with the scary Psychos clown logo printed in the middle. “I wasn’t planning on talking to them. But they spotted me when I left. Caleb invited me to his Halloween party next weekend.”

I glanced up. “He’s having a party? At his house?”

Vaughn appeared distinctly uncomfortable. “Yeah. Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up. You probably didn’t want to hear that.”

“I want to come.”

The words surprised me probably more than they surprised him.

Vaughn’s dark eyebrows drew together. “Ah, no.”

I leaned over. “Ah, yes. You owe me.”

His eyes went all squinty, trying to work me out. “What the hell do I owe you for?”

“Trying to steal my half of the inheritance.”

“I’m letting you sleep in my house!”

I waved that off like it was nothing. “You were a douche. You call me Roach, for Christ’s sakes. That’s not very nice.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

I actually didn’t. I maybe enjoyed the nickname. It was tough-sounding, and I could identify with a name like that at the moment. It was a hell of a lot better than something girly like sugar or princess.

So I didn’t answer his question. “Come on, Vaughn. I need to know everything about them.”

He shifted his weight and rested his elbows on the bar top. “I went to school with them. I’m still in contact with people who run in their circles, I’m sure. I can dig around for you, find out whatever you need to know. About their families and where they live. Where they work. There’s no need for you to go anywhere near them.”

I narrowed my eyes, not liking any of the words coming out of his mouth. He was missing my point. What I really didn’t need was someone taking my power. Again. “I need to face where it happened. Coming back to Psychos tonight made me realize that. I need to stand there and know it’s never going to happen again.”

He shook his head. “Do you even hear yourself? You’re playing with fire. Taking stupid risks in the hope of feeling something that isn’t grief over your mom. I’m not letting you do that.”

Not letting me? He didn’t get it. It wasn’t about my grief at all. It was that they’d stolen something from me that night. My confidence. I needed it back. I didn’t know who I was without it. “I get you’ve never felt powerless. It’s not your fault you grew up male, white, and with money. But that isn’t my story. I can’t walk down the street without seeing them in every face. I can’t fucking sleep at night, Vaughn. I close my eyes, and they’re always there. I need to prove to myself that I can be around them and not freeze. I don’t want to be taken by surprise, like I was at the hospital.”

His teeth dug into his perfect bottom lip, hesitation still in his eyes, but maybe a little bit of understanding too.

I took my chance to drive my point home. “I don’t just want to know where they live. If they’re married and have families. I want to know the things they don’t admit to their wives. I want to know all their deepest, darkest secrets.” I put the over-scrubbed glass into the drainer so hard it rattled. “Then I’ll use all of it against them to really make them hurt. I can’t win against them as a group. I need to work out a way to divide and conquer. Work out how best to hurt each of them individually.”

Vaughn watched me intently. “You’re really serious about this, huh?”

I stopped what I was doing and stared him dead in the eye. “If you’d experienced the things they’d done to me, you would be too.”

He swore softly under his breath. “Pieces of fucking shit.”

“To say the least.”

He steeled me with a hard look. “If I take you, and I mean if, Rebel. If I take you, you have to wear a mask the entire time. They can’t know it’s you. You rattled Leonn today just being in the same hospital as him, and then he went running to Caleb. I don’t know what they’d do if they knew you were there.”

I waved off his concerns. “Not a problem. Plenty of costumes require a mask.”

“And you stay with me. You don’t wander off.”

I saluted him. “Yes, sir.”

“I’m serious, Rebel. My dad clearly wanted you taken care of. I was a shitty son while he was here so the least I can do is watch out for you. He would have wanted me to treat you like a sister.”

I remembered the way Vaughn had looked at me that night at the hotel, before I’d realized who he was. He was stupidly attractive with his dark features and a smirk that did things to my insides.

I wasn’t sure I liked him talking about me like I was his sibling. I’d never had a brother or sister, but if I had been as attracted to a blooded relative as I was to Vaughn, I would be checking myself into therapy before I ended up on some reality show, confessing to the world how nobody understood our special love.

Fucking hell. The sister thing needed to get nixed in the bud. “Then let me have my half of the inheritance.”

He sighed. “It’s not that easy.”

It never was when it came to money.

A roar from War’s side of the bar came up, and I glanced in their direction. They were all staring up at the big-screen TV, where a hockey match was playing.

All but one guy. I hadn’t even seen him come in, but my heart gave a happy squeeze.

Fang crossed the room to lean on the bar beside Vaughn. “Hey, Pix. Can I get a beer, please?”

“Politest damn biker I’ve ever seen,” Vaughn muttered.

I pulled down on the beer tap, letting the amber liquid run into a clean glass. “You could stand to be a little more like him, you know.”

I pushed the beer across the bar to Fang and waved him off when he tried to pay. “On me.”

“Can I get one,too?” Vaughn asked.

I poured a second beer and sent it in his direction. “Three dollars.”

“You just gave him one for free!”

“Yeah, well, there’s no sibling discount around here.”

Vaughn glared at me but shoved his hand into the pocket of his jeans and produced a few dollar bills. “Fine then. Sis.”

Fang ignored our bickering and reached over the countertop to swipe at a stray bubble on my forearm. He flicked it off his fingers into the sink. “Hey. We’re all going back to the clubhouse for a party after the game. Do you want to come?”

“Sure. Sounds good. We’re closing up after it finishes anyway.”

Vaughn looked between me and the fifteen men all sitting around tables, their MC jackets on the backs of their chairs, their bikes all lined up outside the window. “You are not seriously going to a party with all of them?”

He had his Providence-raised, Judgey McJudgeface pants on, clearly. It was so entitled. I knew better than anyone that wearing a business suit didn’t make you a good guy. The Slayers might appear rough and ready, but none of them had ever laid a finger on me.

“Why wouldn’t I?” I challenged him.

Fang twisted to glare at him. “Are you implying she wouldn’t be safe with me and my brothers?”

Vaughn held his hands up. “Hey, I’m just trying to look out for her.”

Irritation prickled at me, probably a leftover after him calling me his sister when some very core part of me didn’t have even remotely brotherly thoughts about him. “Who says I want that, Vaughn? Those guys are my friends.”

“I’m sure you said that about Caleb too.”

Shock punched me right in the gut, and before I could stop them, tears pricked the backs of my eyes. “You’re a fucking asshole,” I seethed at him. “One minute you’re being all nice. But just give you a minute and you’re back to being a prick…”

To his credit, he did appear apologetic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. Try seeing it from my point of view.”

“I did. You still look like an asshole.” Fucking men, thinking they knew better than me.

He turned to Fang for support, and to my surprise, Fang didn’t immediately bark something harsh out in my defense. In fact, it was quite the opposite. “Come to the party as well then,” he relented with a sigh.

“What?” Vaughn and I said in unison.

Fang rubbed a hand over the back of his neck uncomfortably, his blue-eyed gaze steadfastly fixed on me. “Hey. I think he’s a jackass too. But you live together. And in some messed-up way, I think he’s just trying to protect you.”

“I am,” Vaughn grumbled.

“I can’t blame him for wanting to know you’re safe.”

I watched Vaughn for a second, and he actually did seem hurt that I was cranky with him. “Fine. You can come. You’re so uptight. You look like you need to chill out and get laid anyway.”

I regretted my choice of words the moment they came out of my mouth. I didn’t want to think about Vaughn getting laid.

He finished the last few mouthfuls of his beer. “I’m ready.”

Fang looked at me and chuckled. I laughed with him.

“What?” Vaughn asked, glancing between us. “What’s so funny?”

Fang stood and slapped him on the shoulder. “You aren’t ready, my friend. Not even a little bit.”

“The Slayers’ parties rival the sex club we have here at Psychos,” I explained. “You good with that?”

Vaughn cleared his throat, suddenly not quite so cocky. “Sure.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Maybe the question should have been, is your wife good with you cheating on her at one?”

To my surprise, he huffed out a laugh, though it had a slightly bitter tinge to it. “My wife spent my entire trust fund on her alcohol, drug, and gambling addiction. She’s slept with all of my friends back in Cali and didn’t even care enough to try to cover it up. I don’t think she gives a shit what I do, as long as I cough up the money she needs to pay her debts.”

I blinked at maybe the first honest thing to have come out of Vaughn’s mouth since I’d met him.

He dropped his gaze to the bar top.

I could practically see the regret written all over him.

“Shit.” Fang took his wallet from the inside of his jacket and took out a few bills. “Pix. Pour the man another drink. Top shelf. On me.”

I grabbed a bottle of bourbon and poured two shots. One from Fang. One from me. ’Cause that was a lot of pain that had just come tumbling out of his mouth.

Vaughn slumped on his stool and accepted the drinks. “Thanks.”

He knocked them back in quick succession. “Just so you know, I didn’t tell you that so you’d feel sorry for me.”

I did anyway. At least a little bit.

Vaughn finally met my gaze. “I just wanted you to know I’m not a cheater. I saw how badly my mom’s infidelity hurt my dad. I wouldn’t do that.”

I shrugged. “My opinion of you doesn’t matter. I wasn’t judging you.”

My digs about his wife came from somewhere else entirely. A place that felt a lot like jealousy.

Fang pulled him up from the bar. “Let’s go get you laid, brother. ’Cause after that story, I think you need it. We’ll wait for you in the parking lot, Pix.”

The two men walked out side by side, Vaughn glancing back over his shoulder at me.

I looked away. “Great,” I muttered to the rapidly emptying bar. “Now they’re buddies, and I get to go watch my stepbrother score. Just how I wanted to end the night.”