Renegade (Southern Rebels MC Book 4)

by Kristin Coley

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Renegade

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  RENEGADE: A SOUTHERN REBELS NOVEL

  First edition: August 1st, 2020

  Copyright © 2020 Kristin Coley

  Written by Kristin Coley

  Prologue

  Diane

  Wind rattled the house as thunder cracked in the distance and I peeked out the window. There was nothing to see in the pitch black night and I rubbed at the goosebumps covering my arms. It was late and I should be in bed, but a restless energy kept me wandering around the house, picking up things and setting them back down as I waited.

  The phone rang and I jumped, then laughed nervously at my own reaction. “Hey, Uncle Tom,” I answered, already knowing he was just calling to check in on me. “I’m fine,” I lied with aplomb. “Doors are locked tight.” I paced back to the window, testing to make sure it was locked. “No one’s tried to kill me,” I told him, adding under my breath, “Yet.”

  I’d known working at the prison carried some risks, but I hadn’t expected someone to try to stab me or for another prisoner to risk their own life to save mine. If it made me a little paranoid, so be it. At least I continued to show up to work. I made some agreeable noises as Uncle lectured me on safety. He hadn’t been happy when I’d bought the ramshackle house in the woods, citing numerous safety concerns. He’d finally shut up when I told him he was starting to sound like my mom, who happened to be his sister.

  A loud bang echoed through the house, loud enough to make Uncle Tom ask what it was, “Something outside,” I replied, creeping to the door right as another bang rattled the windows and caused my heart rate to spike. “I have to go, Uncle Tom,” I said quickly, reaching for the door knob. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I hung up on his protests, crossing my fingers he wouldn’t decide to drive over here. I hovered by the door, debating if I should open it when another bang came. I fiercely regretted not replacing the outside light as I flipped the deadbolt and eased the door open.

  A man leaned against the storm door, soaked through, and almost unrecognizable, but it was the blood smeared on the glass that made me throw the door open. He cracked one eye open as he attempted a grin that came out more like a pained grimace. “It looks like I’m gonna need to call that favor in, Doc.”

  I shook my head as he stumbled through the door, almost careening into me. He caught himself, and propped his back against the wall as I quickly inspected the gunshot wound in his shoulder. “You need a hospital,” I said pointlessly, already knowing why he’d shown up here.

  “They report gunshot wounds, Doc,” he reminded me unnecessarily.

  “I’m aware, but you’ve lost a lot of blood,” I answered, concerned by his pallor.

  “Just need you to patch me up and I’ll be on my way,” he slurred, his eyes drooping. I hurriedly shut the door as the rain started to come down and tugged on his sleeve.

  “Come on, you’ve got to get yourself to the couch unless you want to spend the night on the floor,” I urged, seeing him sway as he pushed himself off the wall. “I need to get that wound closed so you don’t lose any more blood.”

  We made an awkward sight, shuffling to the living room, his good arm slung over my shoulder as I braced myself against his weight. He sank onto the couch and I hurried to get my medical kit. When I came back, I thought he’d passed out, but he opened his eyes as I settled on the coffee table in front of him, setting down the medical supplies I’d gathered. “Thanks, Doc.”

  “Don’t thank me yet,” I retorted, grabbing the antiseptic.

  “You’re helping me.”

  “Yeah,” I murmured as I helped him get his leather kutte off, trying not to notice all the badges decorating it. “I said I would.” I ignored the little flip in my belly as our eyes met, knowing it was ridiculous. “I just didn’t expect you to call your favor in so quickly, Clutch.”

  Chapter One

  Clutch

  One Week Earlier

  I sat up and reached for the shirt that was dangling off the night stand as her nails raked gently down my back. “You could stay,” she offered and I stilled. She scooted closer, her breasts pressed between my shoulders as she idly rubbed the bold ink tattooed across my back. “You would be welcomed here – respected,” she added, treading on dangerously thin ice.

  I glanced down at the shirt still in my hand and relaxed my hold, smoothing the wrinkles as I took a calming breath. “You know that’s not gonna happen, Ginger.” Her lips skimmed my shoulder as she wrapped her arm around my stomach, her fingers stroking my hip. “I’m a Rebel.” I felt her frown before she tucked her head against my back, a lock of red gold hair trailing along my arm.

  “You know that’s not actually my name, right?” She asked petulantly as her sharp nails flexed against my back. I knew her irritation had nothing to do with what I called her, but the fact that I wouldn’t give in to her demands.

  I glanced over my shoulder as I muttered, “It suits you.” And it did. She was a firecracker – in bed and out – and the red hair was nothing more than a warning to all who dared entry.

  “You could be an Ace,” she whispered and I settled my arm over hers, gripping the hand at my hip and squeezing. “It’s not so impossible, Clutch. Everyone here respects you. The Professor would second the nomination.” She spoke quickly, the words tumbling out as she tried to convince me before I could reject the offer. “Daddy thinks the world of you.”

  “Because I went to jail in place of his beloved princess,” I retorted and she hummed an agreement. “But it doesn’t change who I am. A Rebel,” I stressed and her head dropped to my shoulder as she tried to pull her arm back. I tightened my grip, knowing I’d upset her. “Ginger, I wouldn’t ask you to change. I couldn’t.” I grunted when she balled up her fist and thumped me on the back. “You know I’m right.”

  “I don’t have to like it,” she muttered, jerking away from me. “You’re going to go back to that stupid cow, Ronnie,” she hissed, not looking at me as I turned on the bed to face her. “After she dumped you when you went to prison.”

  “Well, I did go to prison for you,” I reminded her. “That might have been part of the issue. Plus, it was a long time.”

  “Three years,” she scoffed, shaking her hair back, the red strands standing out against her pale skin. “Nothing. A true old lady would have stuck by her man.”

  “Twelve,” I corrected idly, still unable to believe they’d let me out. “I don’t remember seeing you there.” She blinked rapidly, ducking her head so her hair covered those cat green eyes. “I noticed you didn’t visit either.”

  “I wanted to,” she murmured, taking a deep breath as she lifted her head. “But Daddy didn’t think it was a good idea.”

  “I’m sure he didn’t,” I answered, rubbing my thumb over her areola and watching the skin pucker. “His little girl almost got caught transporting weapons over state lines. I’m sure he didn’t want you within a hundred yards of a cop.” She arched her back, thrusting her puckered nipple into my palm and I massaged it lig
htly as her eyes grew hooded. “I’m sure none of your other boyfriends did either.” She scraped her nails over my stomach, drifting lower as my dick came to attention.

  “You’re not jealous,” she stated, her eyes on mine as she wrapped her hand around my dick.

  “No,” I agreed, leaning over her as she fell back on the bed with a breathless sigh as I plucked at her nipple. “But I also don’t share.” I took her nipple in my mouth, relishing her moan as I sucked hard, and my dick twitched happily when she gripped it firmly, her hand moving in long strokes.

  “You don’t have to share,” she whimpered, her fingers tangling in my hair as I released her nipple with a pop. “It’s not like that.” I ran my fingers down her breast bone, following the curve of her stomach, until I found a neat patch of red curls.

  “So this is all mine?” I questioned, one finger grazing her wet folds as her eyes dilated. “No one touches this pussy but me?”

  She licked her lips as I slid my finger back and forth lazily, waiting for her to respond. Her hand tightened on my dick when I grazed her clit, but she couldn’t or wouldn’t answer so I pulled my hand away even as she clenched her thighs to keep it there.

  “That’s not fair, Clutch,” she objected as I straightened, my dick jutting up as her hand fell to the bed, her red hair spread out around her on the white sheets. “It’s not that simple.”

  “No, I guess it isn’t for you, but it is for me,” I replied and her face twisted into a pout.

  “You just had me,” she retorted, her hand sweeping over the bed. “Three times, if I counted correctly. You didn’t mind sharing then.”

  “I just got out of prison,” I commented, leaning back as her hand came up to slap me. “I wouldn’t turn down a good fuck, but I’m not sharing an old lady.” Her gaze threatened to blister me as I picked up the shirt I’d dropped, about to tug it over my head, when her hand on my side caused me to pause.

  “You didn’t have this before,” she murmured, tracing the reddened ridge of flesh on my side. “A knife?”

  “Shiv,” I muttered, yanking the shirt down and covering the still healing scar. “It’s nothing.” She eyed me, her ire disappearing under sudden curiosity.

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing,” I repeated, tugging my jeans out from under her leather pants. She made a noncommittal sound, but didn’t press the point to my relief. I had to make a conscious effort not to cover the wound with my palm as the memory of a pair of terrified doe eyes flashed through my mind. I shook off the recollection as I started to pull on my jeans.

  “Come back to bed,” she invited, patting the bed beside her. “I won’t mention your girlfriend again,” she promised, looking about as trustworthy as any naked redhead could while lying on silk sheets. “Scout’s honor.”

  “Ex,” I muttered under my breath, my gaze sweeping the floor for my boots. I raised my voice. “I’ve been gone long enough,” I excused, not wanting to admit I was no longer interested. I didn’t delve too deeply into why as the wound on my side throbbed, a reminder that I’d done at least one selfless deed in my life.

  I stuffed my feet into boots and ran my hand over my jaw, the short stubble scraping my palm. I hadn’t allowed myself to have a beard in over three years and the scruff felt strange.

  “I’m sorry,” she rasped as I walked to the door and I hesitated. “I don’t want you to go,” she admitted, swallowing.

  “I was never going to stay,” I said unapologetically and she flinched. “There’s only one place I belong. One place I call home.” She kneeled on the bed as I strode out the door, the need to see my brothers again driving me forward.

  I didn’t bother to look back.

  Chapter Two

  Sloan

  “Be careful,” Creed reminded me, a soft smile on his lips as he watched me leave the house. I waved cheerfully, backing the old truck out as I made my way to the salon. My phone rang before I’d even turned down the street and I answered, thinking it was Creed.

  “You can’t possibly miss me already,” I giggled and silence met me. “Not Creed, huh?”

  “No,” Johnny answered dryly. “Have you heard from Clutch?”

  “No, but I know Crew talked to him and he’ll be here tonight.”

  “Everything’s good with the homecoming bash?”

  “Uh huh,” I replied, being careful to keep to the speed limit as I hit Friendly’s main street. “Norah is bringing the cake. Tori and Cord are in charge of decorations.” Johnny snorted. “They offered!” I inhaled through my nose, striving for patience. “Hank and Mary are cooking. Micah says she has the liquor under control.”

  “Crew and Drea?”

  I paused, trying to decide how to answer that without giving them away. “Oh look, I’m here. I’ve got to go. Bye.” I hung up before he could respond, then turned off my phone, for good measure. I hopped out of the truck, checking for oncoming traffic before walking toward the front of Ronnie’s salon. I’d thought about just going around the back to pick up Kara, but I wanted to check in with Candy to see if she was coming to Clutch’s homecoming party.

  The red and white barber pole spun lazily, a throwback to when the place had been the sole domain of men, a far cry from its new life. Most of the club still came here for haircuts to support Ronnie since she was Hank’s daughter. It also didn’t hurt that she employed a few former club girls like Candy. The salon was considered classy by Friendly standards but I thought Ronnie had managed to create her own version of Steel Magnolias, Friendly-style.

  The bells jangled when I walked in and I was greeted by several voices, one in particular standing out.

  “Jailbait.” The nickname was said with affection and I sauntered toward Noah, planting a smacking kiss on his cheek.

  “You’re coming tonight?” I verified, meeting his eyes in the mirror as Candy trimmed the hair at the nape of his neck.

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” he confirmed, white teeth flashing as he grinned.

  “And a date?” I fished, almost cross-eyed as I tried not to look at Candy, who happened to have one helluva crush on the handsome police officer.

  He started to shake his head and then thought better of it as the scissors snipped by his ear. “No, Jailbait,” he answered with barely veiled impatience. "I don’t have a date and I’ll thank you not to set me up with one.” His gaze held a warning and I resisted the urge to sigh. The door jangled and Candy called over her shoulder, “Be right with you.”

  “No rush,” a female voice answered and I glanced over with interest, not recognizing the voice. A woman stood at the counter, bleach blonde hair tangled around her shoulders, as she gazed around the shop curiously.

  “You know her?” I questioned under my breath and Noah looked up, catching sight of the woman through the mirror. He made a negative sound in his throat but I noticed his gaze lingered on her. I tried for casual as I snuck another look at the woman, something about her bugging me. “You sure?”

  He gave an impatient sigh and muttered, “Do you want me to go interrogate her?” I cocked an eyebrow and he hastily added, “No. That’s not happening.” My lips curved down and he closed his eyes. “Don’t even try to guilt me. I’m not Creed.”

  “Fine,” I huffed, tapping my fingers on the counter. “I need to get Kara anyway.” I motioned to the back of the salon. “Ronnie in the back?” I asked Candy, about to go on back when she shook her head, giving me a puzzled glance. I paused, caught off guard. “She’s not here?”

  “No, she called me last night, and asked me to take her shift today.” Candy shrugged, dusting Noah’s shoulders. “She sounded a little frazzled, but I just chalked it up to Clutch’s homecoming.” She dropped her voice. “I heard Johnny told her she wasn’t welcome.”

  I rolled my shoulders uncomfortably, having heard the same thing, except I knew the request had come from Creed, not Johnny. Most of the guys felt Ronnie had done Clutch wrong by dropping him when he’d been sent away, but I knew exactly how hard it co
uld be when your man was behind bars. Creed had only been gone a year, whereas Clutch had faced a twelve year sentence with almost no chance of getting paroled. “I was supposed to watch Kara today. I guess she forgot,” I explained, avoiding the rest of what Candy had said and casting my gaze downward as Noah stood up from the chair.

  “Thanks, Candy,” he interjected, reaching for his wallet.

  “It’s on the house, Noah,” Candy chided, the words practically rote, as she waved away the twenty he pulled out. “You know that.”

  He laid the twenty on the counter, his head dipping down. “It’s always good to see ya, Candy.” His lips curved up. “Wish I could say the same for you, Jailbait,” he added teasingly, ignoring my quick grimace. “I’m sure I’ll see you both at the party.”

  “It’s a surprise,” I reminded him and his mouth quirked.

  “I’m sure it will be,” he answered enigmatically and my eyebrows drew down. He passed the woman at the counter, nodding as he said, “Miss,” and I noticed her eyes flashed when she saw his uniform. She smiled tightly and he did a double take, blinking at her for a second, as a strange sense of déjà vu coursed through me.

  “I gotta go,” I excused myself from Candy, racing after Noah. “Hey,” I called as soon as I cleared the door. He slowed, turning to look at me, exasperation written on his face. “Don’t give me that look,” I scolded, wagging my finger at him. “I saw your face when she looked at you. You know her.”

  He glanced up at the sky, no doubt hiding the fact that he was rolling his eyes. “I did not recognize her, Sloan,” he stated patiently. “Some people are uncomfortable around uniforms.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Something about her…” I trailed off, glancing back at the salon doors as I debated going back inside. “There’s something –”

  “You should go,” Noah waved at the door, “Check her out, and get the gossip before anyone else.” He twisted, about to leave and forcing me to make a snap decision. I jogged after him, not missing his long exhale. “What is it, Sloan?”