Temperance (Defiance #4)

by Stephanie Tyler

  “Then I’m your option,” Rebel said firmly.

  “We’ll be gone for two days.”

  “So?”

  “I’m sure Defiance can’t spare you.”

  “Pretty sure you don’t know what Defiance can or can’t do, Dec.”

  “Fine. Whatever. Flex your MC muscles if that makes you happy. We leave in an hour.” Declan went into his room and shut the door.

  An hour? What the fuck? Rebel was pretty sure Declan wouldn’t try to leave ASAP, but even so, he remained outside the tube when he called Caspar from a SAT phone he didn’t use too often. When Caspar picked up, Rebel explained the situation quickly.

  For a long moment, Caspar was silent, and then he instructed, “Your instincts were right—you go with him.”

  “Okay.”

  “And, Reb? Remember, you don’t have to do what he does. You’re only there to watch his back, because we’re on Keller’s side now. Jesus Christ,” Caspar tacked on at the end, like he couldn’t believe he actually said that.

  There was a lot of that shit going around.

  Rebel paused before heading back into the tube, Caspar’s words echoing in his ear. You don’t have to do what he does.

  But Reb knew violence, watched Defiance descend into it, especially in the early days. The violence of the Chaos was what drew Caspar back in, and mellowed the club out, at least in terms of senseless violence. They were about protection of family and business, but they weren’t looking for fights. Hell, they didn’t have time.

  That didn’t mean these men couldn’t, and didn’t, fight. They’d grown up street fighting, which meant fighting dirty, and over the past years learned the importance of trained fighting, like Caspar and others learned during their time in the military.

  Who—what—he’d be fighting today, he had no idea. He only hoped it wouldn’t be Declan.

  *

  The urgency building inside him meant that Declan refused to argue. At this point, Defiance would be implicated either way—no getting around that, Keller told him—and so bringing or not bringing Rebel would have the same outcome.

  The opportunity had presented itself—Declan would be a fool not to take it. And he was no goddamned fool.

  The closer to the assassination, the more focused he got. He’d learned not to think about how badly he wanted it. Instead, he concentrated on the plan, went over it again and again, accounting for every shot. Every possibility. If he had to do it over, he wouldn’t have spent time buried in that goddamned coffin panicking, but rather, planning.

  Didn’t matter—either way, he’d learned. It was a lesson he’d been meant to learn…and he had.

  Tonight’s job was all about sending that message.

  Declan could try to lose Rebel before the job, but that wasn’t an easy proposition. Tonight, the mission was straightforward, but he’d been counting on some alone time in order to continue the hunt that’d started years ago.

  His left palm itched, the way it always did when he thought about who he was hunting. In the end, anyone who got in his way would be collateral damage.

  This was war. And Declan had no doubt he’d win.

  He began throwing his shit into his go bag, needing to mentally prepare for what was happening next.

  “I’m ready,” Rebel told him. “Surprised you waited.”

  “I live to surprise you,” Declan said in the most sarcastic tone he could muster.

  Rebel somehow always managed to still him with a look, and Declan relaxed, the way he did whenever Rebel was close. Fucking guy was like a drug to him.

  Declan had his weaponry loaded. “You’re carrying?”

  “Yes,” Rebel said simply, and yes, Declan sometimes forgot that Rebel was pretty damned dangerous himself. Although he didn’t often have to show it, Rebel could take down men easily, which showed how unfair the LoV fight had been.

  Most of Rebel’s wounds had healed, some leaving behind visible scars, but Declan knew from experience that they all left scars.

  *

  “Going to fill me in on the job?” Rebel asked as he got behind the wheel of Declan’s truck. It slid silently through the back gates, the ones only Caspar had access to at the moment. He and Mathias were the only ones who knew that Rebel and Declan were leaving, and since a storm was headed this way, everyone else would be underground soon enough. Their departure wouldn’t be very noticeable, and that’s how both Caspar and Declan wanted it.

  Declan wanted Rebel to drive so he could watch Rebel’s back. So there wasn’t any time for small talk—or any talk, beyond giving directions—as the truck rumbled across some of the worst roads Rebel had driven in a while.

  Finally, they reached their destination—a hole-in-the-wall-looking restaurant that was dark and inviting inside. Declan seemed to know the owners, who led them to a back table and served them food without showing them a menu.

  “Been here before?” Rebel asked.

  “A few times.” Declan stretched out and placed his booted feet on either side of Rebel’s, symbolically locking him in—and locking them together.

  “With?”

  Declan grinned. “Jealous?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Good.”

  As the food began to flow—and the beer, for Rebel—he began to feel warm and contented. Declan was fucking flirting up a storm with him, and being out with him? Rebel never thought he’d be this comfortable with it.

  Granted, no one in the main room could see them and the waiters didn’t seem to care at all.

  Declan was taking charge of this…date, and Rebel didn’t mind that, let himself be taken care of. Declan had made all the decisions about the food and drink—and it turned Rebel on to see how competent he was at giving orders.

  Especially because Rebel knew Declan was doing it all for him.

  *

  Declan excused himself and headed in the direction of the restroom. One of the owners came by to talk to Rebel, and then Declan came back to the table. The owner clapped him on the shoulder, and Rebel saw a quick exchange of cash.

  “You ready to head out?” Declan asked him.

  Rebel nodded—he was full enough to be sleepy, although there was an energy about Declan he couldn’t quite place.

  “I’ll drive,” Declan offered, and the truck climbed the hill behind the restaurant after turning off the small road that would be easily missed if someone wasn’t looking for it. Declan hadn’t even put the parking lights on, and Rebel could barely make out the road. Declan obviously knew where they were going so he didn’t worry.

  Lightning flashed the sky as they approached a small house. Declan got out and manually opened the garage, then came back to drive the truck inside. As he shut the door behind them, Rebel should’ve found himself in total darkness.

  But he didn’t. He slid out of the truck as well, and through the blackout windows caught sight of a flash of lights down the hill near the restaurant. “What’s going on there?”

  Declan didn’t answer.

  Rebel heard the unmistakable roar of motorcycles over the sounds of light hail hitting the roof and suddenly, his suspicions grew. “Dec? Did you…?”

  Declan guided him away from the garage and into the house. He lit a few candles before answering, “That’s what we were there for.”

  “I thought it was dinner.”

  Declan laughed a little. “No reason not to take advantage of a good meal.”

  “You should’ve told me…”

  “What? That I was going to do my job? I don’t have to tell you that, Rebel.”

  “You would’ve told Bishop.”

  “You’re not Bishop. This, what we’re doing now? This is fucking with any relationship we might have. I can’t work with you, Reb. It’s too fucking personal.”

  “Sometimes that’s the best time to work with someone.”

  Although it’d felt like they’d been driving for a while, they weren’t very far from the restaurant, actually, almost behind it and up on a sl
ight hill. If he looked down, he could see the activity, hear the roar of motorcycles racing up and down the streets beyond.

  “They won’t come here. Don’t know this exists. On maps, it looks like this is a pond. And it was, at one point,” Declan told him. “Still, no reason to tempt fate.”

  Inside the cabin, the windows were darkened—Rebel supposed they’d look that way to outsiders, despite the lit candles.

  For all intents and purposes, they’d disappeared. And that made Rebel uneasy as fuck, for both of them. “Who’s looking for you now?”

  Declan shrugged. “Maybe the LoV.”

  “And the owner? The waiter?”

  Declan shook his head. Rebel supposed whatever was inside that envelope was enough to buy his privacy and maybe this safe house. “We’re good, Reb.”

  “No, we’re most definitely not good. Who was it?”

  “Does it matter?” Declan asked coolly.

  “It matters to someone, I’m sure.”

  Outside, the storm raged. The cacophony down the hill was masked by the sudden hail that hit the windows so hard it was like they might break.

  “Haven’t been topside during a storm like this since…” Rebel trailed off when he saw the look on Declan’s face. “I wasn’t talking about that night. Fuck, Dec, I don’t blame you for my accident or for the LoV. Is that what this was about tonight? Revenge?”

  “Flattering yourself,” Declan told him.

  “Then who was it?” Rebel asked again.

  Declan gave him a small, satisfied smile before saying, “Fletcher. And Big C.”

  Big C…as in, president of the LoV. Rebel’s stomach dropped. “Jesus.”

  Fletcher was bad enough, but once Big C was gone, that meant that, between Keller’s and Defiance, they’d taken out two of the top-tier LoVs in under a year. It was one of the reasons Bishop had gone to Defiance to start with, since he’d killed one of those top-tier LoVs…and Keller’s son, Victor, at the same time. What a motherfucking mess.

  “Tonight was just a warning.”

  “That’s more than a warning. That’s a full-on declaration of war.”

  “I’m ready, Rebel.”

  “What’s going on here? Really—what’s Keller up to?” Rebel demanded as the storm began to rise in intensity, both outside and in.

  “Not in my wheelhouse. I just do as I’m told. Don’t worry—you won’t be implicated.”

  “That’s not what—fuck.” Rebel paced. He was used to club violence, had been involved in some revenge runs. He’d watched Caspar kill a man for the love of his life.

  But this…Rebel had a sinking feeling that what happened tonight had escalated things far more than Caspar would’ve liked.

  Then again, maybe Caspar knew. Maybe Rebel was the one out of the loop. “What the ever loving fuck, Dec?”

  Declan looked half high—maybe this was what happened to him after an assassination. Maybe it was his drug. “Like I said, none of this is your call.”

  “But is it yours?”

  “Not entirely, no.”

  “What does that mean? You said you took orders—that this was just a job. Now you’re telling me you might’ve had a hand in the planning. And I’m thinking Caspar has no fucking idea what you’ve just done. Thinking neither you or Keller warned him ahead of time.”

  “Do you think Caspar would’ve tried to stop it from happening?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well you goddamned need to, Reb. Can’t go around blindly following shit your whole life,” Declan challenged.

  “I’ll throw you through the fucking wall if you talk like that to me again,” Rebel warned. “I won’t follow blindly, but I have loyalty, to the MC. To Caspar, who pretty much saved Defiance from the path Lance led us down. And what’s pretty clear to me is that your loyalty isn’t with me at all. I guess fucking really is just fucking, although you try to tell me differently.”

  Declan tilted his head. “You think I should be sharing these secrets in the bedroom?”

  “You know what? I do. A warning would be nice—it was one thing when you didn’t tell me about the Nomads before the last goddamned meeting…but this? Now I finally understand that your loyalty does, and always will, lie with Keller.” Why realizing that hurt so badly, he didn’t know. It shouldn’t have been a revelation.

  “It does, Reb.”

  “What’s he done for you that’s so wonderful? Pay you?”

  “There’s that, yeah. He also gave me life,” Declan said quietly, stunning Rebel into silence.

  When he found his voice, he asked hopefully, “You don’t mean that in a metaphorical way, by any chance?” trying to bring a note of levity into his voice. Declan looked sad and scared, and those were two emotions Rebel didn’t associate with him. “Declan…seriously—Keller’s your father?”

  “Couldn’t tell you. I never tell anybody.”

  “But you just did.”

  “But I just did,” Declan echoed.

  Jesus. Rebel couldn’t think, not over the roar in his brain, or the storm overhead or the worry that the entire LoV or Fletcher’s mafia would end up at their door—or at the gates of Defiance tonight. All he could do was gather Declan in his arms and he held him there for what seemed like an eternity.

  “Hey Reb?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I did what I could to make sure Defiance is safe. Bishop and Luna at Keller’s. And Kev wasn’t making a run tonight. I checked all that. I made it look like Big C killed Fletcher, then tried to run, and was killed by a couple of Fletcher’s men. I want to tell you that they’ll never be able to figure out what really happened, that they’ll be too busy chasing each other, blaming each other. But we both know that’s bullshit.”

  “Is that why you did it? So they’d take their focus away from Defiance and Keller’s?”

  “Part of it.” Declan hesitated. “We’re trying to bring the Nomads out of hiding. If we take away the groups they’re hiding behind…”

  “Fuck,” Rebel breathed. “So Defiance and Keller’s are still in their line of fire.”

  “Yes, that hasn’t changed. But tonight didn’t make it worse—it just leveled the playing field. It’s the Nomads against us,” Declan said. “I made a call to Keller before we left. He was calling Caspar. You can relax.”

  “Relax?”

  Declan blew out a harsh breath. “It had to be done now. Tonight. After what Kev and Carter saw in the road on the way home…”

  “Nomads?”

  Declan nodded. “If they make moves, we need them to do it alone. Combined with the others? It’s too much.”

  “So the LoV and Fletcher’s crew were involved with Nomads for sure?”

  “Yeah.” Declan drew out the word, still spaced out.

  Rebel’s head reeled. That information alone was mind-blowing. But the fact that Declan was Keller’s son? It made sense, on every level. Things clicked into place because he had the knowledge. “Why tell me all this now?”

  “Which part?”

  “Start with the Keller is your father thing.”

  “Because I’m tired of lying to you about who I am,” Declan bit out. “I’m not ashamed of it. Love him or hate him—without him, this area never would’ve survived. If he and Defiance would cut the power-play shit, we could have a nice enterprise going.”

  Rebel ran a hand over Declan’s hair but Declan slid from his touch. “You should’ve—”

  “Told you?” Declan shot back. “Right? First thing, I’ll announce it. Better yet, I’ll tattoo it on my forehead.”

  “I wasn’t a stranger.”

  “Than what the fuck are you?” Declan demanded. “Because you walked away.”

  “I’m here now, goddammit. Despite the shit you’ve just pulled.”

  Declan snorted. “You have no idea what I’ve done, Reb. No fucking idea.”

  “Then tell me.” Declan shook his head slowly at Rebel’s request. “Tell me about the goddamned Nomads—give me something co
ncrete, because it’s next to impossible to fight against a ghost.”

  “They’re not ghosts,” Declan said tightly. “They’re flesh and blood. Just good at what they do.”

  “What is that, exactly?”

  “Not being seen.”

  Rebel threw his hands in the air. “The fuck, Dec? Why’s all this so goddamned secret? It’s like you know but can’t…” He paused, like he realized what he’d just said. He turned slowly to face Declan, who hadn’t moved from where he sat. “It’s like you know.”

  Declan’s jaw set stubbornly after he ground out, “Don’t.”

  “Dammit, what do you know? How the hell do you have firsthand knowledge of this?”

  Declan smiled, but there was no light behind it, not like earlier when they were eating and laughing. “Gonna be secret for secret, Reb?”

  “Is that what you expect—a push of boundaries for a push of boundaries?”

  “If I waited for that, you’d never get shit from me.” Declan sighed. “The strength of the Nomads is in their secrecy. You don’t know who they are…that’s how they get you.”

  Rebel stared at him, Declan’s words echoing in his mind.

  You don’t know who they are…that’s how they get you.

  “Dec, whatever your reasons for putting yourself in the path of the Nomads…you have to know this could kill you. It will.”

  Declan started at him steadily. “I’ve known that since I was sixteen, Reb. I’ve been waiting for it. The only thing stopping me from going in full force against the Nomads now is…”

  When he trailed off, Rebel grabbed him. “What?”

  “You, okay? Because of you, I wonder if I’m doing the right thing.”

  “You told me revenge is bad.”

  “It is. It’s fucking me over. But I believe in revenge. Karma. And I’m the only one who can dish out this retribution. I’ve trained for it from the time I was sixteen.”

  “If this is personal business…”

  “Get clear, Reb—it’s fucking personal as hell, but if they’re left to roam? They’ll fuck up everything you worked so hard for…and I’m not exaggerating.”

  “You’re the reason Defiance will be involved in this.”

  “I’m the reason? Get over yourself, fucker—you helped them already.” Declan’s eyes flashed. “Defiance sold them the tubes.”