“The bail money will be refunded, and we can move on with our lives. I don’t know about you, but I have some ideas about what I’d like to do.”
She cocked her head. “What?”
“Take some time off—something I never do—and go hang out for a month or two at a beach-front villa somewhere, the kind that wouldn’t require we wear clothes—”
Rebel’s mouth dropped open, and she gaped at me.
“What?”
“Are you serious?”
“To a certain extent. I mean, that was off the cuff, but after saying it out loud, it sounds pretty nice.” Especially considering we didn’t have a lead on Lynch. It would give the team time to find him while I kept Rebel safe.
She turned her back and put her hand on her stomach.
I tried to put my arm around her waist, but she spun away from me. “Talk to me, Rebel. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
31
Rebel
I was having trouble sorting everything going through my head. “I need some time to myself.” I started down the hallway, but Edge followed. “Did you not hear me?”
“I did, but no, I’m not giving you time to yourself. Tell me what the hell I said wrong.”
I took several deep breaths, not that doing so was helping me settle down any. Edge’s offhanded way of dismissing the shitstorm my life had been for the last several weeks, struck a chord somewhere deep inside me. While the murder charge would be dropped, what I’d lost because of it wouldn’t miraculously reappear.
I had nowhere to live, and I’d probably lose my job since I’d no longer be staying on the ranch. I had no money. None.
Edge stood in front of me and dropped his hands to his sides. “Do you want to explain why you’re so angry?”
“I don’t know where to begin.”
“Why don’t we go lie down, and you can tell me what’s on your mind.” He reached for me, but I backed away.
“No.”
“Rebel, for God’s sake, after what I’ve been through—what we’ve been through—can we please just get some rest and discuss this in the morning?”
“Sure,” I said, but I didn’t go into the master bedroom. I opened the door to the guest room, relieved to see that Kick’s stuff was gone. That was another thing we needed to talk about. Evidently, I’d shot and almost killed a federal agent, but I was still convinced he’d been in on whatever the two men I’d overheard talking in the storeroom were involved in.
“What are you doing?” he asked when I stood in the doorway.
“Getting some rest.”
“Not in there, you’re not.” He grabbed my arm. Bad move. I wrenched it away. When he stepped forward, I took another step back. I was about to
close the door on him, but he was too quick. He reached behind my knees, scooped me up, and carried me into his bedroom. Unlike the other times he’d done the same thing, this time it felt controlling, like I was his fucking prisoner.
When he put me down on the bed, I got right back up and stalked toward the door.
“Rebel!” he shouted at me. “Stop this ridiculousness. I’m too exhausted to deal—”
Before he could finish his sentence, I slammed the door and walked out. Once I got to the guest room, I slammed that door too and locked it.
I sat on the bed and put my head in my hands. Edge wanted me to explain why I was so angry, but I couldn’t. Even I didn’t know why I’d initially reacted the way I had. All I knew now was that I needed to be alone.
The next morning, when I came out of the bedroom after getting very little sleep, Edge was sitting on the sofa.