Rebel Revenge (Saint View Rebels Book 1)

Fang refused to let me ride home with Kian, insisting he hadn’t just licked my pussy ’til I’d come just to let me drive home with some random guy I’d only known a day. I let him put me on the back of his bike, just for tonight, because right now, I did have a case of the warm and fuzzies when it came to him.

He’d taken a full-on beating for me. It had been completely unnecessary, but the Saint View thug in me found it kinda romantic. I didn’t care for flowers and chocolates. Clearly, all you needed to turn my head was blood and violence.

I was sure that said something about my mental state, but I couldn’t afford a therapist anyway.

By the time we got back to my flashy new house in Providence though, Fang had me worried. He’d taken the last two corners unusually slowly, and by the time we stopped in front of the house, and I got off to say goodbye to him, his eyes were unfocused.

I peered at him in the darkness, his face barely lit by the automatic porch light. “Get off.”

He blinked, albeit slower than usual. “What?”

“Get off. I can’t believe I just let you drive me home. Do you have a concussion?”

He shook his head. “No.” But there was a wince in his voice.

“Can you shake your head like that again?”

“I’d really rather not.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Off. You’re not going back to the clubhouse. I’m not gonna be the one responsible for you riding your bike off the bluff road because you got too dizzy to see.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’ve got a big-ass bed in there, just waiting to snuggle in.” I knew it was the one thing that would get him to stay.

He looked up. “You want to snuggle? You, Rebel Pixie Kemp?”

I shoved my hands on my hips. “That’s not my middle name, you know. And I snuggle!”

He chuckled on a laugh. “About as much as snakes do. But hold your tits, I’m coming. Just give me a minute for the world to stop spinning.”

Kian pulled up in the driveway a moment later and wandered over. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Fang snapped.

I rolled my eyes. “Quit being a dog pissing on your territory. Kian isn’t trying to hump my leg; he’s allowed to ask what’s going on when we’re blocking the doorway to his house.” I turned to Kian. “I think he’s got a concussion.”

Kian peered at him and held up one finger. “Can you follow this?” He moved his finger to the left an inch.

Fang glared at him, making no effort to perform the simple task. “Can you follow this?” He flipped him the bird and waved it around in his face.

Kian laughed, but I huffed out a sigh of impatience.

“Just do it, Fang.”

Fang nodded at Kian. “Fine. Do it again.”

Kian held his finger up, moving it side to side.

“What’s the prognosis, Doc?” Fang scrubbed a hand wearily over his face. “Is my brain any more fucked up than its usual messy state?”

Kian shrugged. “Fuck if I’d know. I don’t even know what I’m doing, but it’s what my coaches used to do to me. You can follow my finger, so I’m assuming if your brain is fucked up, it’s probably just your usual state of being.”

“I want him to stay here tonight. So I can keep an eye on him.”

Kian nodded. “Probably a good idea. No sex though.”

I frowned. “Did your coaches tell you that too?”

“No, but I’m right next door and I don’t want to hear, ‘Oh Fang! You’re so big! Fuck me, Daddy!’ all night.”

Fang’s mouth flickered in amusement, and I widened my eyes at him more than Kian’s overly girly and way-off-base impersonation of me. It was unusual for Fang to be anything other than a monosyllabic grump.

But I couldn’t let the comment pass without addressing it. I leaned on the wall, crossing my arms beneath my tits, and grinned at Kian. “Why? Jealous?”

Kian leaned in, breath misting across my cheek when he dropped his voice low enough only for me to hear. “Nah, little demon. ’Cause when I fuck you, I’ll have you panting so hard you can’t even utter a sound.”

My eyes widened. He might as well have fucked me right then and there, ’cause despite my normal quick wit, I was at a complete loss for words. Until that moment, I hadn’t even been sure he wasn’t gay.

But that doubt had been laid to bed and tucked in with a kiss of promise I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about for a while.

Kian moved on though, like he’d just asked me to pick up toilet paper at the store. He held an arm out to Fang. “Come on, big guy. Let’s get you upstairs. Can’t have you sleeping out here, and if you go down with her trying to help you, you’re gonna crush her.”

I was sure it was only the implication he might hurt me that had Fang agreeing to Kian’s help. I trailed after them, more worried with every step because Fang really was wobbly on his feet. Kian got him into my bed, and he was asleep almost instantly.

Kian and I stood side by side, watching him.

“Seriously, should I be worried? What if he has a brain bleed? I don’t think you’re supposed to go to sleep when you have a concussion.”

But Kian shook his head. “Nah. I didn’t smack him in the head too much. If anything, I’d be more worried about broken ribs. Your boy doesn’t protect himself real well. I swear, I wouldn’t have gone up against him if I’d known he wasn’t a fighter.”

I sighed. “He is. He let you win.”

Kian frowned. “Why?”

“Because he’s too damn sweet for his own good.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is. It’s how you get your heart broken.”

Kian patted me on the back, like maybe he understood a little about what that felt like. “I’m going to bed. If he’s too out to take care of any needs you might have…that promise I made you downstairs is always available. Night or day. On tap…twenty-four seven.”

I shoved him, and he laughed.

“Night, little demon. I’m real glad you’re here. It’s been too fucking quiet around this place.”

I watched him walk away, through the bathroom that connected our bedrooms. “Me too,” I whispered to the quiet room. “Me too.”