Page 68 of Rebel
“Why did that detective call you?”
“Don’t try to get over your shit by bringing up mine.”
“Maybe I’m doing it to help you.”
“Really?” she huffs and crosses her arms over her chest.
“I’m not stupid, Kinsley. You didn’t come back to Baltimore to paint that mural.”
“Do you think I'm spying on your club again? Like I care.”
“I never thought you were spying on my club,” I shuffle up and roll to my side so I can look at her better. I’m a hundred percent sure she isn’t working with Storm. “What I think is, you want to tell someone other than your cousin, but you’re too scared to.”
“Reverse psychology?”
“I don’t have to trick you to know I’m right.”
“You don’t know me.”
“Maybe I want to.”
That stops her, her lips snap shut on whatever she was about to tear into me with. It’s news to me too.
Wanting to hear her problems is keeping me here instead of crossing the street and setting fire to my friendship with Noah, not just ruining any trust between me and my president.
“You don’t want to know my shit, Rebel.”
“Let’s get one thing straight. I never ask questions I don’t want answers to. And I don’t give my time freely. If I didn’t want to be here, I’d have walked out the door with blood dripping down my fingers.”
“It’s all in the past.” She looks away.
“Can’t be if a cop called. And let’s not forgetyouinvolvedmewhen you wanted to be fucked.”
Kinsley is about to refute it, then stops because it’s the truth.
“Another thing about me, I’m a dog with a bone, and I know someone who can find out anything i want. Including how often the Governor of Maryland takes a shit.”
It surprises me when she laughs, but that is because she doesn’t believe me. I’m not lying. Although Ghost is no longer around the club, I’m pretty sure that is something he could pull off.
“You think I can’t find out what happened back in LA.”
“Do not do that,” she scowls. “And… I’m trying not to think about it.”
“How is that working out for you? It got you mixed up with me, that alone should be enough to talk about it so you can be free of me.”
Saying the words out loud does something to my chest, a dull ache I’m freaking the fuck out about every time I feel it. Kinsley watches me rub my chest with my good hand, the cut one still in her lap.
She realizes it at the same time I do and withdraws her fingers but doesn’t push me off.
Kinsley takes a deep breath and stares at the bedroom door. “He was calling to tell me that the person who was stalking me is appealing their sentence.”
“You had a stalker?”
I sit up, not expecting that. Anger consumes me. Someone stalked her enough to be put in prison?
“What did he do?” My voice is low and dangerous. If this asshole wasn’t thousands of miles away and locked up, that is where my pent-up aggression would be aimed. “Did he hurt you?”
“She… It was a woman. And you can’t get to her, so don’t get all worked up about it.”
