Rebel Soul: (Rebel Series Book 1) ((Rebel Series)) (11 page)

Whenever she talked dirty like that, my vision wavered and all I wanted to do was kiss her until everything melted away. I would have too, if the porch light hadn’t turned on and if Bill Armstrong hadn’t stepped out in his plaid pajamas wearing
the most
menacing look I’d ever seen a man wear.

“I don’t want to be a decision you regret in the morning,” I said lowly, my hand falling away from her chin.

Tessa’s mouth opened and closed as she struggled to find something to say. She was so captivated by my words and me that she didn’t even realize her dad was out front until he walked up to my truck and opened the passenger door.

She startled, struggling with her seatbelt.

“Brock.” the way that Bill said my name seemed to be a threat.

“Mr. Armstrong.” I nodded, watching as Tessa stumbled out of the truck. She looked at me over her shoulder, biting her lip once, her eyes swirling with confusion and want.

As I watched her walk up the front steps with her dad, I instantly regretted my decision to bring her home. I should have just brought her back to my trailer like she wanted. I should have just let her sleep it off in my bed, then drove her to Elle’s in the morning. I shouldn’t have made a decision for her, even if my heart had been in the right place. I truly hadn’t wanted to be something that she woke up to regret in the morning.

I’d also known that I wouldn’t have been able to resist her. The thought of her in my bed was enough to drive me insane with need, having her actually
in
my bed and being unable to touch her…that would have fucking killed me.

Tessa

My father marched me up the front steps and into the house. I made a move to head up the stairs to my room, but his voice halted me.

“Table, now,” he said sternly, pointing to the kitchen. The old oak table was reserved for family meals and what Dad liked to call ’family meetings’, which were basically sit downs where he disbursed punishments and talked about things that needed to be done around the farm.

I had a feeling that tonight he wouldn’t be talking about the things that needed to be done around the farm.

Obediently, I walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. Dad paced the length of the kitchen several times before he leaned over the table, pressing his palms down on it as if he had to ground himself.

“I thought I told you to stay away from that Miller boy.” He was angry, and the disappointment was evident in his voice.

My thoughts were still swirling around on the words that Brock had said before he left, and I hadn’t listened to a thing my father said.

“Tessa, did you hear me?” Dad repeated, speaking a little louder now. I looked up, blinking. “I thought I told you to stay away from Brock Miller.”

“Yeah, you did tell me to stay away from him, but you also told me to stay away from every other guy that’s ever liked me, and you know, anybody with a penis,” I tossed out casually, as if saying a sentence with the word ‘penis’ to your father was a typical thing for an eighteen-year-old girl to do, for
me
to do.
Damnit, I must be drunk
, I thought, giggling out loud at the shocked look on my father’s face.

Dad didn’t look like he found any of this humorous. I sighed deeply. “Look, Dad. I’m eighteen. I’m not a little girl anymore and you really can’t treat me like one. I’m going to occasionally hang out, and maybe even
kiss
boys. You probably won’t like them, either. But it’s
my
decision
who I choose to see. Besides, I’m not even seeing Brock. He gave me a ride home from Melanie’s house, that’s all.”

“Where were your brothers?” Dad demanded, his jaw clenching with aggravation.

“They were striking the fear of God into Travis Channing,” I said, my tone bored. I even went as far as looking at my nails.

“Why were they doing that?”

“Because Travis danced with me, and they were just doing what you taught them to do,” I responded. “If anyone touches Tessa, make sure you teach them a lesson!” I added, mimicking my dad’s deep voice.

“I never taught them that.” Dad frowned.

I stared at him, blinking slowly. I didn’t even have to open my mouth to prove my point; both Tommy and Gordon stumbled into the house laughing.

“The look on Travis’s face was hilarious! He really thought you were going to sock him.” Tommy was cackling. They both came into the kitchen and froze, seeing Dad and I sitting around the table.

“The prodigal sons return with news of their triumphant battle.” I sighed, rolling my eyes. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. I can’t even dance with a guy without everyone around here losing their goddamn marbles. It’s driving me insane! Tommy and Gordon have both been dating since before they were sixteen!”

“Tessa, you know that isn’t true,” my father argued.

“You almost decked Brock for driving me home, Dad,” I pointed out.

“Wait,
Brock
drove you home?” Gordon’s eyes flashed with anger.

“Sit down, the both of you,” Dad demanded. Gordon and Tommy exchanged a look with one another as they sat down in their usual spots at the Armstrong table.

My father paced from the table to the kitchen counter and back again, rubbing his bearded chin with his fingers. Occasionally, he would glance from Tommy and Gordon to me.

He came back to the table and pulled his chair out, sitting down and fixing me with a serious stare. “You’re right. You are eighteen years old and I need to stop treating you like a child, but you’re still under
my
roof and I won’t see you making poor decisions. I have rules that you’ll need to abide by, even if you’re going to college in the fall. I told you to stay away from Brock Miller because he has a criminal record, not because I want you to stay away from every guy out there. I expect you to heed my advice, and I expect you not to be alone with that Miller boy again. Do I make myself clear, Tessa?”

“Yes, Dad.” I sighed, my shoulders slumping in defeat. I wasn’t about to admit my intense feelings for Brock, not to my father and especially not with my brothers sitting right there.

“Boys, what’s this I hear about you striking the fear of God into Travis Channing for dancing with Tessa?” Dad switched his focus to my brothers, fixing them both with a stern look.

“He was pawing her on the dance floor, and –”

“Improper use of the term ‘pawing’,” I interrupted, as if we were in a courtroom and not sitting around the kitchen table in the middle of the night. “We were dancing; people have to touch each other to dance. It’s kind of how it’s done.”

“Whatever.” Gordon frowned. “He’s supposed to be my friend, and my friends know not to go there.”

“If your sister wanted to dance with Travis, and willingly did so; there’s no reason for you to go put the fear of God in him, friend of yours or not,” Dad lectured. I smirked, finally feeling those scales tip a little bit in my favor.

* * *

The next morning, my father woke me up two hours earlier than usual. It was his way of punishing me for drinking the night before. The Armstrong offspring didn’t get to nurse hangovers or sleep in until noon; they had to get up at first dawn and get their chores done. By eight o’clock, I’d already given the horses a good brushing before setting them out in the fields and mucking out all the stalls in the barn.

After my chores in the barn were completed, I set out to the hen house to collect some eggs for breakfast. Dad always insisted on having laying hens so he could have farm fresh eggs whenever he wanted them. It was my job to raise the hens, and it had been since I was a little girl.

I thought about Brock while I worked, placing each freshly laid egg in the basket. I thought about the things he said to me, about the way he made me feel. He unlocked urges in me that I never knew I had before. He made me want to act in a way I didn’t typically act.

I wanted to know everything there was to know about Brock Miller. I wanted to know about his past, I wanted to know about his dreams for the future. I wanted to fall into him, fall into that feeling I had whenever I was around him, and never come up for air. It was dangerous, it was stupid, but there it was.

I walked into the kitchen, humming to myself distractedly.

“Someone’s looking chipper this morning.” Elle’s voice startled me and I almost dropped the basket.

“Jesus, Elle. Some warning next time.” I carefully set the basket down on the counter. “What are you doing here?”

“Dropping off your truck,” she responded, joining me at the counter. She leaned up against it, crossing her bare arms. Elle was wearing her signature shorter-than-hell shorts, a tight tank top and sandals. Her long dark hair was pulled up in a messy bun, and although her face was free of makeup, she still looked like a damn celebrity. I was certain I looked like absolute shit. My hair was a curly, tangled mess from last night, and I still hadn’t had time to shower. I definitely didn’t look fresh and radiant, like my best friend. She pulled herself up onto the countertop while I set to washing the eggs. “And checking in on you to see how last night went?” she added, her voice quiet.

She swung her slender legs back and forth, waiting for me to answer. I glanced around the kitchen, declaring it empty. “It didn’t,” I whispered, my brow furrowing. “I thought it was going to…we kissed, and it was amazing but…”

“But what?” Elle whispered, her eyes wide and impatient.

“He drove me here and told me I deserved more than a quick…you know, in his truck, and that he intended on giving it to me,” I responded, keeping my voice so low that Elle had to lean forward to hear me.

She whistled lowly. “Wow. That’s intense,” she bit her lip, repressing a grin. “Holy shit, that’s romance novel stuff right there.”

I blinked at her blankly and then shook my head. “I don’t really know what it means or anything, and I doubt I’ll find out…”

“Why the hell not?” she demanded, her voice rising indignantly.

“Shh!” I hissed, glancing around again. The kitchen remained empty. My two older brothers were busy with their own chores and my dad was also outside working. It still didn’t prevent me from being totally paranoid though. “When he dropped me off last night, Dad came out. He lectured me about being around him and told me I wasn’t allowed to be alone with him again.”

“Why?” Elle pouted, displeased by this development.

“Because Brock has a criminal record.” I sighed. “Because my dad thinks that he’s dangerous.”

“Oh.” she frowned, chewing on her tongue thoughtfully. “Well, Brock
isn’t
dangerous. At least, not to innocent people.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it,” Elle rushed to say. “All I mean is that he isn’t dangerous.”

“I don’t think he is either,” I said thoughtfully, thinking back to how Brock had reacted to Chris attacking me. Then I thought about how he’d acted the next day, in his trailer, and again in his truck. I didn’t believe for one minute that he’d hurt me. I worried my lip while I thought, barely seeing the eggs in front of me as I set to washing and cracking them in a frying pan.

“Why do I feel like there’s more you aren’t telling me?” Elle asked, arching a delicate brow. 

“Oh! Right, there is. So…I pointed out that I’m eighteen now and how unfair it is I can’t even date without everyone acting like total cavemen around here. Dad was going to argue about it, but then Tommy and Gordon came in bragging about the whole Travis thing.”

Elle’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “And?”

“And he agreed with me. He gave them shit. I think that’s going to change but…” I trailed off, sighing.

“But what? Damnit, Tessa you are the worst for dramatic pauses,” my best friend grumbled, crossing her arms and sulking.

“But I’m still not going to be allowed to see Brock,” I added, Elle’s pout made me smile a little. “He said he’s going to stop treating me like a child, but I still have to follow the rules while under his roof, and one of those rules is that I can’t be around ‘that Miller boy’.”

“Are you going to sneak out and see him anyway?” she whispered mischievously, winking.

“I might.” I smiled, my heart thrumming at that possibility. “But first I have to make breakfast and shower. Are you going to sit there, or are you actually going to help me?”

“Fine, fine.” She hopped off the countertop. “I’ll make the bacon.”

* * *

I ate quickly before I hopped in the shower. I didn’t have time to wash my hair, so I ran my fingers through it in an attempt to separate the curls. Then I dressed in a pair of clean shorts and a button up, plaid top.

Elle was sitting on my bed, waiting for me.

“What are your plans tonight?” I asked, pausing in front of my mirror. The small bruise on my cheek was starting to fade, but I was going to still need makeup to hide it before it healed completely. Otherwise, I’d have to answer questions that I didn’t particularly feel like answering.

“Braden and I are going to the rodeo again. You should come!” she answered, watching while I set to work. “Ugh, let me.”

Elle
was
better at making skin look flawless. I never really had a purpose to learn before. My skin was naturally creamy and smooth, my Nordic features, courtesy of my mother’s side, were sharp yet delicate.

“I don’t know, I should probably find a job or something.” I sighed, closing my eyes and letting my best friend work her magic.

“You could hand out a few resumes and then we could go,” Elle suggested. “We aren’t leaving until this afternoon anyway. The strongman competition is this afternoon, and Mom’s doing the chili cook-off again. She could use some extra hands,” she added, wiggling her eyebrows at me. She knew how much I loved her mom’s homemade chili.