A Rebel Love (Black Rebel Riders' MC Book 7) Read Online Free

to Baby and Trouble briefly, before he died. Rebel and Rumor had it next, until she was murdered and he got with Chelle. Although Chelle never lived in my trailer, she took up home in a cabin by the lake. 
    Rebel rents me his old place, since he and Chelle ended up building a house out by the moonshine cabin that Romeo used to occupy. They needed the bigger place for all of their rug rats.  She’s a hellcat. You wouldn’t know it by looking at her. She’s short, with dark hair that hangs to the midsection of her back. She has thick bottom; she looks similar to Libby, they’re cousins. It makes spending time with Rebel hard. They are inseparable for the most part. She put his ass in line and she keeps it there too. 
    I kick at the gravel as I walk the short distance to my porch. Memories flash of seeing Rumor and Baby sitting on the porch swing, laughing, and watching Colt play. Miss those days. Shit just made sense then, shit was just easy.  Sure, we had our problems with rival clubs but that wasn’t anything we couldn’t handle.
    I spent most of my days running the roads making moonshine deliveries. There wasn’t time to think or to care about coming home to an empty bed. Besides, back then I had Liberty—I thought I had it all. I could fuck Liberty seven ways to Kingdom Come and she would eat up every second of the worship I paid to her body. Anything I wanted to try she was all in, no questions asked. She doesn’t mind sharing either. We had plenty of threesomes. 
    One night, I took her to a swinger’s club, she fucking ate it up. Damn did she liked to get buck wild. I miss that—belonging to another half, having someone who loved me for me.
    Sure, I can bring home an easy piece of pussy to fuck, but it doesn’t mean shit if I don’t want her to stay.  And it has been a long ass motherfuckin’ time since I’ve wanted a bitch to spend the night. I get my kicks and send them packing. I’m not looking for a whore eager to land a patched man. I could have my pick of them, they are as abundant as crabs in a poor man’s whorehouse.
    I want a real woman, a good woman.
    Inside, my trailer still holds remnants of when Rumor lived here as Rebel’s wife.  The floral pictures she hung in the living room still decorate the walls in the golden frames. Some Home Interior shit she bought at a yard sale. I remember how proud she was when she purchased them. Me and Truth carried all of her finds of the day in for her.
    Some nights, I swear I can hear the ghost of her walking through the walls looking for Rebel.  And other nights, I could swear I see Baby’s red hair blowing in the breeze. Rumor and me dated briefly, she was too good a girl for me. She wasn’t able to handle a man like me.
    I have a hungry sexual appetite, always needing to be filled. I wonder had I been different with her when I had her, could I have made her happy? I guess I’ll never know. I even fucked around with her little sister, Baby on occasion, but her blood was too wild even for me, and fuck, if Grim isn’t a scary motherfucker. I left her alone long before I could get caught. I think about her sometimes and wonder if I could have made a play for her? But deep down I know we never would have worked. And that girl had it bad for Striker.
    I could see the love they felt for each other long before either of them ever recognized it or acted on it. I used to watch them fight just so they could fuck to make-up. I get trapped by memories of the past more often than I’d like. 
    Then I remember what year it is, and where I am, and all that has come to pass. If I keep looking back, I’ll never move forward. I can’t go back and yet I don’t know who or what I am looking for. What if my chance at settling down has already came and went like dust in the wind?
    I lay my head back on my pillow thinking about the shoulda, coulda, wouldas .
    I shoulda fought for Liberty.
    I coulda begged her to stay.
    I woulda made her listen.
    I kick off my