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

me wished he had, even if it was only for show, but he didn’t. I kept waiting for him to make a display of saying I was his forever , but he never spoke the words. I kept waiting, only to be given the performance of a lifetime, a real Shakespearean tragedy. 
    Diamond carried out her idiotic scheme and it cost her everything, it killed her. Not that I don’t believe the girl had that bullet coming, but damn, life is so fragile. Why she thought she could play Striker into believing she was having a miscarriage, when she wasn’t even pregnant, I’ll never really know. We were close in the intimate ways of sex, but she didn’t confide in me, the why of her scheme. Not entirely. I knew she wanted to be a Top Bitch , an Old Lady , it’s what I have hoped for too.
    It leads me to thinking about our relationship, mine and Tread’s, and where we are headed—nowhere.
    Tread isn’t serious about me. We have amazing sex, but is that all we share? When we got together we were both all about a good time. I was running from anything that screamed commitment and responsibility. And now look at me—I’m pregnant . Can’t get more responsible and committed than that.
    “ Pregnant ,” I roll the word on my tongue, wondering how in the hell I can tell him. I don’t want him under the impression that I am trying to trap him and suck him under. I don’t want him thinking I am just like Diamond.
    What she did is all too fresh. For all I know Tread might think Diamond and me planned this shit together. Her blood is barely dry on the floor at the Roadhouse after she tried to kill Baby and trick Striker.
    No , I can’t tell him. 
    I won’t .
    I have to get out of here.
    I have to let him go.
    Tread isn’t ready to claim me and he sure as hell isn’t ready for the role of daddy. He loves the road too much…he lives for the thrill of the ride.
    I thought I did too, but now, I live for the love I feel for the life growing inside my womb. I need and want more than Tread can give. He isn’t ready and it’s not like he is offering me anything more than hot sex.
    He’ll be here any minute and I have to pretend that I’m not dying a little on the inside. I have to pretend his baby isn’t growing inside of me. I have to look him in the eyes and lie about my love for him. If I don’t he will always resent me.

 
     
     
    Liberty
    Present Day
    “You aren’t nothing but a no good cunt. I should’ve run the day I met you. You’re worthless.” My husband, the man who swore to love and to cherish me, berates me, trying to break me down.
    His words don’t scar me, his hands do. I thought he was different. I thought he was going to sweep me off my feet. He did for a while, until he didn’t get his way.
    John was handsome and charming when I met him. Clean cut and dark hair, always knowing the right things to say or do. He was the opposite of Tread, my tattooed, unruly biker, with a crass mouth.
    Now John is nothing like the man I married, he’s the worst version of himself. He’s become a man I fear.
    His dark, hollow eyes narrow on me. They once held such adoration for me, but now the only emotion they hold is contempt. “You should just send that bastard back to the hell hole you bore him in.” John refuses to let it go—Kyler not being of his own flesh and blood.
    “Maybe I will, and just maybe I’ll go with him!” I shriek knowing better. Mouthing back only makes him more heated. It only serves to make him angrier.
    I should throw my hands up and put up a fight, but defending myself only excites him. If I just take what he has to give, he will eventually grow annoyed and leave me alone, to drown his woes, at the bottom of a whiskey bottle.
    I don’t even flinch as he strikes me with his brass knuckles. I’ve received worse. I don’t even bother to cry, I am numb to the pain. This has become a familiar scene in our house—enduring physical abuse.
    John has broken my jaw, my nose. I almost lost full sight in my left