His Loyal Rebel - Debra Kayn Page 0,3

she knocked.

Several minutes passed, and she kicked the door, rattling the wood against the frame with her force. She wasn't going to stand out here all night until someone finally opened the door to find her waiting.

"Angie?" yelled Twyla, banging on the door. "It's me. Your sister. Open up."

She shook the pain from her hand. Her stomach coiled tighter the longer she waited. Her day kept going on and on, and she wanted it to end.

Finally, the door opened. Smoke rolled out, and she wrinkled her nose. Or maybe her disgust was aimed at the man blocking her view of the inside.

"What do you want?" The guy shucked on a leather vest over his bare upper body.

She ignored his question and squeezed past him. Going straight to the boom box on the entertainment center, she shut off the music.

"Angie?" she said.

"Go away," shouted her sister from the bedroom.

She rolled her eyes and walked down the short hallway, and stepped into the room. Her sister stood by the dresser, slipping a shirt over her head.

"I need to stay here," blurted Twyla, taking in the mess.

There were clothes strung everywhere but in the closet. At least a dozen beer cans covered the TV tray her sister used as a nightstand. Her nostrils stung. It smelled like alcohol, pot, and B.O. in the house.

"What happened to Big?" Angie slid her feet into a pair of white Vans. "Did you cheat on him?"

"What if I did?" She shrugged. "I just need a place to crash until I save up enough money to rent an apartment."

She hadn't cheated. Big had.

They were never in a real relationship anyway. She got tired of being put last in Big's long list of errands his club had him running. He couldn't expect her to pay half the rent, pay for the food, and sleep with him when he started treating her like a second thought.

No matter how hard she tried, she'd never settle like Angie, happy for any attention from any man, as long as her bed wasn't empty. She also wasn't going to hang around a biker clubhouse. Women like that weren't treated with respect.

"You need to pay if you stay here." Angie bent at the waist, gathered her hair, and put the strands into a ponytail before looking at her. "Fifty bucks a week."

"To sleep in your spare room?" She shook her head. "I'll buy groceries. That's it."

The music came back on, blaring throughout the house.

Angie shouted, "Whatever, but you have to keep the place clean."

Leaving her sister in the room, she passed the biker in the living room, hitting a bong as he headed toward the bedroom. She looked over her shoulder and read the back of his vest. Her lip curled in disgust.

She wasn't sure if it was the fact that her sister was dating a loser or that the Tarkio Motorcycle Club vest had her instantly disliking the man. He was from the same club that the man who'd ordered her to leave Missoula—as if he was mayor or something.

Angie's boyfriend had a long tail of hair at the back of his neck, swinging back and forth across the leather vest. She had an urge to find a pair of scissors and snip the long line of hair from his head.

Her sister was pathetic. Angie would never find whatever she searched for in life because she always wanted what everyone else had. The bikers would continue to treat her like a whore until Angie got bored.

There would always be another asshole ready to jump into a relationship with her sister.

She knew that because the same thing had happened to her. Big jumped into her life and turned into an asshole.

She was done with bikers.

She gathered her belongings from the car and returned to the house. Not in the mood to get to know her sister's new boyfriend, she shut herself in the room and fell into bed.

The mattress wasn't much better than the lumpy one in the motel.

Loud laughter permeated the bedroom wall, followed by thumping. She hugged her middle. The feeling of loneliness was nothing new to her.

Even when she had Big, she spent most of her nights alone.

No one ever noticed her. Not even Angie took time out of her night to find out why she needed to stay here.

Just like yesterday when she pulled the pistol on Big, forcing him to leave her alone. He'd laughed at her threat. At that moment, she regretted shooting at the ground. She should've shot