Page 4 of Rebel (The Royal Harlots MC #7)

Kirk was so much older than she was, but those kinds of age gaps were normal, right? She just hoped that Bolt wouldn’t think too poorly of her once she told him her story, but there was nothing she’d be able to do about it if he did.

“So, you gonna tell me who the guy was, or should I start guessing?” he asked.

“I’m guessing that you’re done waiting for me to want to talk about this,” she said. She knew damn good and well that he was done waiting for her to spill the beans.

“I saw the way that he looked at you,” he admitted. “You knew the guy?” he asked.

She nodded, “I know him,” she admitted.

“I take it he’s not a friend,” Bolt asked.

“No,” she breathed, “he is most definitely not a friend.” He pulled in front of the safe house and quickly looked around. “What are you doing?” she asked, mimicking what he was doing.

“I’m checking to see if we were followed,” he said. Bolt got out of the truck and ran up to the garage door, unlocking it and opening it. He got back into the truck and pulled in, quickly shutting the door behind them.

Rebel stepped out of the truck and grabbed her purse, following him into the house. “Do you think he followed us?” she whispered.

“I don’t think so, but I do need you to tell me who I’m dealing with here, Rebel,” Bolt insisted. She tossed her purse onto the kitchen table and sat down in one of the wooden chairs. She still wasn’t sure if she wanted to give him the answers that he had asked for.

She sat back in the seat and crossed her arms over her chest. “Remember when you asked me if I kept secrets from Jace?” she asked. God, that felt like days ago, and not just hours.

“Yes,” he said as though prompting her to go on.

“Well, I’ve had to keep one pretty big secret since our mother died,” she almost whispered.

“Does it have to do with the guy who was mean mugging you through the windshield?” he asked.

“Yes, but I’ll get to that part. Let me start at the beginning,” she ordered.

Bolt smiled and nodded. Rebel took a deep breath and let it out, going over in her mind where she should even begin.

How did she tell someone something so dark and dirty about her past?

She knew that she wouldn’t be able to get out of telling him her story now.

A part of her wished that she had just stayed home when she couldn’t get hold of Jace.

At least she wouldn’t have to tell a virtual stranger about her past.

The kitchen felt too small, the single buzzing bulb overhead throwing a harsh yellow glow on the scarred table between them.

Rebel sat rigid, her hands locked in her lap, fingers twisting until her knuckles went white.

She couldn’t shake the image of Kirk from her mind—his shadow in the parking lot, the way he’d looked at her like he’d been waiting all along for her to show up.

Across from her, Bolt leaned back in his chair, broad shoulders filling the space, arms crossed. He didn’t press her to hurry up and get on with it. He just watched her, steady and silent, like he could see through the walls she’d spent years building.

Her throat ached, but she forced the words out.

“That man, the one you saw in the parking lot, his name’s Kirk.

He—” She swallowed hard, not sure if she could get the next part out.

She had never told anyone what she did to keep her and Jace alive with a roof over their heads when their mom died.

“He used to be a client.” Bolt’s jaw flexed, but he said nothing.

His silence was worse than anger—it left her no place to hide.

“When Mom died, Jace was still just a kid,” Rebel continued, her voice trembling.

“I had just turned eighteen a few days before my mother passed, so the state let me keep him. But everything was all on me. I had to be able to provide for him, and stripping wasn’t enough to keep us fed.

Men from the club would offer more. A hundred bucks for an hour.

They promised to get a hotel room so that no one would know.

” Her breath hitched, but she pushed through.

“I said yes.” Shame burned up her neck, threatening to suffocate her.

She couldn’t look at Bolt, couldn’t stand to see disgust written on his face.

All she could remember was seeing Jace’s smile when he’d eaten a full dinner, or the way he’d slept soundly knowing the lights wouldn’t get shut off.

That was why she did it—but saying it aloud made her feel exposed and raw.

“So, Kirk was one of your clients that you met at the hotel?” Bolt’s voice was steady and low.

Rebel nodded, her chest tight. “At first, he was just another man willing to pay me for the use of my body. He was a way for me to put food on the table for Jace, and that was all that mattered to me. But then, Kirk started showing up everywhere—not just at the strip club. He started following me, and I wasn’t sure what to do.

He’d be waiting outside after my shifts were over, and he’d follow me home.

When I bolted myself in my shitty apartment, he banged on the door until someone called the cops, or I opened the door.

I finally was able to quit the club when I got a job at a local clothing boutique.

I thought I’d left him behind, but he found me again.

He showed up at the boutique, and when my boss told me to get a restraining order against him, I couldn’t answer the question about how I knew my stalker, and they wouldn’t let me leave it blank on the form.

How could I write that he was some guy that I had sex with for money?

” Her voice cracked, and she took a deep breath in, eventually letting it back out as she tried to steady her nerves.

The air hung heavily between them. So did the silence.

Rebel braced herself for his judgment, waiting for him to push back from the table and walk away from her.

Instead, Bolt leaned forward, his arms braced on the wood, eyes locked on hers.

“You don’t owe me excuses,” he said. “But if that bastard’s after you, then he’s after us now.

I promised Jace that I’d protect you, and that makes him my problem too.

And for the record, I think that once this is all over and the dust has settled, you should tell Jace all of this.

Your brother is the kindest man I know, and he wouldn’t want you feeling this guilt for what you had to do to survive.

You took care of him, and that’s all that matters,” Bolt insisted.

Rebel’s breath caught, the weight of her secret loosening just enough to let her inhale. Relief mingled with fear in her chest. She’d only known Bolt for hours, yet his words anchored her, made her believe that for the first time in years, maybe she wasn’t carrying this burden alone anymore.