Page 76 of Rebellious

“Not if I want it!”

Momma gasped and raised her hand, her face reddening.

“I want—”

“Give me a moment, Rebel.”

“No. Nothing you say will change my mind. I only have two options. Diesel and Kaia—”

“I asked you for a minute. That meant silence. You aren’t changing my mind about this.”

Rebel wilted. Between the confrontation at the volleyball game and the events of yesterday, everything felt upside down.

Momma hugged her.

“You probably think I’m fickle or don’t know the meaning of love or both,” Rebel said quietly.

“No, sweetheart, I don’t feel that way at all. I think you’re racing toward disaster for yourself and an early grave for him.”

Rebel pursed her lips.

“You will meet someone worthy of you, sweetheart. Someone who is willing to wear his heart on his sleeve and let the world know how much he loves you. Please, just have a little patience.”

Momma didn’t get Rebel’s urgency. She could have all the patience in the world, but if it was her destiny to die young, then she didn’t have much time left to find the type of love and romance her parents had with her own knight on shining chrome.

Diesel.

Tossing back yet another shot didn’t help Diesel escape the memory of Rebel. Earlier today, proclaiming all she had to do was snap her miserable little fingers and he’d run to her. Yesterday, fighting so desperately for her life; sitting on the ground next to Jana; laying in her hospital bed and declaring they’d become lovers.

What the fuck was wrong with her, putting that idea out there and planting it in his imagination? Her nude body already lived in his fucking head, rent free. Now she’d taken it a step further and voiced his dick’s most ardent fantasy.

Fuck. He couldn’t put it all on her. Since her little stunt where she’d undressed, his brain couldn’t reconcile her womanly curves with her actual age and immaturity.

If she were sixteen, he might say ‘fuck it’ and make love to her. Though her fifteenth birthday was days away, he couldn’t imagine himself sinking to that level of depravity and taking her to his bed.

The clubhouse was almost deserted, except for eight or nine fuckheads at two tables near where Diesel sat at the bar on a stool.

“Another one, Diesel?” Kenny asked, poising the bottle of tequila above the empty shot glass.

Diesel shrugged, not caring either way. Kenny poured the drink.

Torrin slid into the seat next to Diesel. “I’ll have one.”

Narci took the stool on Diesel’s left side. “Me, too.”

Diesel sidled a glance at Torrin.

“I shouldn’t have listened to Rebel,” Torrin grumbled as Kenny slid a filled shot glass to him and then to Narci.

“You shouldn’t have gone with Rebel,” Narci started. “She’s a fucking handful—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Diesel interrupted, “before you say something about her that I’ll take issue with.” Ignoring Narci’s glare, he turned to Torrin. “Tell me you don’t leave Rebel or Aunt Meggie alone often.”

Torrin’s wariness annoyed Diesel. “Outlaw tells us to keep them happy, Diesel. If they don’t want us dogging their steps, what am I supposed to do?”

“Call Outlaw,” Diesel and Narci chorused.

“Because, motherfucker, she could’ve been killed,” Diesel finished. “What the fuck is wrong with you? The club has enemies—”