Page 76 of Rebel
She swallows, shaking. “Bedroom. End of the hall. He was napping.”
We pass framed pictures of other foster kids, paper crafts on the wall, and alphabet magnets on the fridge. All the normal things meant to look like safety.
Then I see him. A small figure in a worn gray T-shirt stands in the doorway, barefoot, clutching a toy car in one hand. His dark hair sticks up in tufts, sleep-mussed. But it’s the brown, wide, stubborn eyes that hit me hardest. Alex’s eyes. He doesn’t flinch, just studies me like he already knows.
For a heartbeat, I can’t move. My chest locks uparound the ghost of my brother’s laugh, the echo of his voice yelling over engines and gunfire.
The boy studies me, then glances at the patch on my cut. The crowned skull and chrome. “You’re Aunt Rebel?” The way he says it, like he’s known that name his whole life, undoes me.
“Yeah, baby,” I whisper, crouching down so we’re eye to eye. “That’s me.”
He hesitates only a second before stepping forward and walking straight into my arms. Small and solid, heartbeat hammering against mine. He smells like soap and dust and the kind of innocence I forgot the world still had.
Carter exhales beside us, voice rough. “Kid’s brave.”
“Runs in the family,” I manage, my throat tight.
Levi peers up at Carter. “Are you one of the Harlots?”
Carter smirks. “Not pretty enough.”
Levi blinks, then grins. It’s quick, crooked, and pure Alex. The sound that bursts from my chest is half-laugh, half-sob.
The social worker edges closer, still uncertain. “He doesn’t have much. Backpack by the door. A blanket he won’t sleep without.”
“Then that’s what we’ll take.” I grab the worn dinosaur-print pack, slinging it over my shoulder.
Carter clears the corners with a quick scan, his tone clipped. “We should move. If the Vultures traced the file, we’ve got a head start, not a lead.”
Levi’s arms tighten around my neck as we step outside. The sunlight hits hard and white. “Where are we going?”
“Someplace safe,” I tell him. “With family.”
His small hand clutches my cut. “Like my dad?”
My throat closes, but I nod. “Exactly like your dad.”
He looks out the SUV window as Carter pulls away, the swing set shrinking in the mirror behind us. “Mama said you ride big motorcycles.”
“I do,” I say softly, brushing his hair back. “You’ll see one soon enough.”
The highway unfurls in front of us, long and empty. Carter drives fast, eyes flicking to the mirrors every few seconds. The desert heat shimmers on the horizon. Levi eventually dozes off against my shoulder, small and warm, the weight of him anchoring me in a way nothing else ever has.
Carter glances over, voice low. “He’s got your brother’s eyes.”
“Yeah,” I whisper, staring out the window. “And his courage.”
We don’t talk after that. The hum of tires on asphalt fills the silence between us. Somewhere behind, the Vultures are circling, but right now, I’ve got Alex’s son in my arms, alive and safe.
For the first time in days, I remember why we fight. And I promise myself that whatever comes next, they’re not taking him from me.
By the time we hit the outskirts of Lancaster, the sky’s gone molten. The sun is dipping low, heat radiating off the asphalt in waves. Levi sleeps curled in my lap, his little hands clutching that toy car like it’s armor. The hum ofthe SUV’s engine and the dry rattle of wind are the only sounds for miles.
Carter keeps his eyes on the road. “Farmhouse is fifteen minutes out. Capone’s men already swept the perimeter twice.”
“Good,” I say, watching the horizon. “They’ll need to keep it tight. Vultures don’t back off, they circle.”
Carter glances in the rearview mirror, scanning the road behind us. “No tails. Divine’s ghosting our GPS, but I’d bet money they’re still tracking something.”
