Page 211 of Rebellious

“And Kaia, emo boy, deserves her? I’m insulted.”

“Choke on it, motherfucker.”

CJ grabbed a chair and charged toward him, so Diesel picked up one and swung. CJ ducked and batted his, hitting Diesel’s chair and splintering it.

“No wonder Jana searched for drugs,” CJ spat, throwing the broken chair aside. “She needs something to escape you.”

“Come closer and say that, fuckhead.” Diesel planted himself near the bar and raised his fists, legs braced apart. “Jana searched for drugs because she’s a fucking drug addicted whore.”

CJ charged him, managing a decent punch to the side of Diesel’s head before he threw one of his own and clipped CJ’s jaw. “And you’re the sex-addicted fuckhead. Sleeping with a sixteen-year-old.”

“I didn’t sleep with Tommi,” Diesel snapped, sidestepping CJ’s fist and walloping his shoulder. “I made Rebel think I slept with her. She’s wearing that motherfucker’s earrings.”

If Diesel hadn’t jumped back, CJ would’ve flattened his fucking nose. “What the fuck? You’re playing those fucking games over earrings?”

Diesel kicked CJ’s legs out from under him and sent him reeling to the floor, but CJ knew that fucking move because Diesel taught him. He snatched Diesel’s ankle and dragged that motherfucker down to the ground with him, dodging some hits and punches, throwing a few of his own, scrapping, rolling, and kicking. Throwing insults and curses, knocking over stools and chairs, one or two tables, unconcerned about the shouts and orders to fucking stop. Both of them managed to evade those who were brave enough to get in the line of their kicks and punches.

CJ didn’t give a fuck. He’d fucking had it with Diesel. This motherfucker being a motherfucker devastated Rebel. She was still healing from trying to save his drug-addicted whore, whom he insisted on keeping around.

Hands grabbed CJ at the same time Torrin and Narci yanked Diesel away.

“Fuck you, CJ.”

“No, fuck you, Diesel. You even got Axel in on your bullshit. How will that make him feel? I’ll tell you how. Like he wants to kill you.” Jerking away from whoever, he pointed at Torrin. “Motherfucker, if you ever look at Rebel wrong, I will fucking kill you. My sister isn’t a motherfucking toy to play with.”

“He doesn’t take orders from you, CJ,” Diesel said coldly.

“No, he takes orders from you because he doesn’t like fucking living.”

“Monday night I stayed awake all fucking night texting that spoiled brat. Tuesday and Wednesday, she ghosted me.”

“Ghosted you?” CJ echoed, appalled. “Are you touched in the fucking head?”

Diesel ignored him and pointed at Kaia. “Because of him. For him.”

Yeah, Diesel was touched in the head. CJ’s outrage grew. “You’re thirty goddamn years old, upset because my little sister didn’t text you?”

“No, I’m upset for the reason she didn’t text me.” He thrust his bloody chin toward Kaia. “Because of emo boy. Rebel has always belonged to me. She’s always been my little sister,” he added for the unenlightened. They both knew he wasn’t crashing the fuck out because he saw Rebel as his little sister. “I bought her earrings, too. She hasn’t even fucking thanked me.”

Potter gave CJ a pack of ice and a cold towel. “Wipe off the blood, then put the ice on the knot on your forehead.” He looked at Diesel while CJ complied with the instructions. “Yours is coming up.”

CJ planned to go to Dad’s table, but the destruction in the clubhouse halted him and he widened his good eye. The other one was swelling shut.

“Must you always be such a fucking hothead, CJ?” Diesel complained.

“When do you ever take accountability for what the fuck you do?” CJ sneered. “You’re as hotheaded as Dad. More so,” he added, thinking of Tabitha.

Yeah, Bash believed whatever story he was fed, but there were people who knew the truth. If he ever got suspicious and asked the right people the right questions, the peace agreement was fucked.

“Why don’t you sit down, CJ?” Potter suggested, handing Diesel an ice pack and cold towel. “I’ll get you some painkillers. You’re going to feel that fight tomorrow.”

He was already starting to feel it. He didn’t care. Defending Rebel was worth every lick he received and every punch he threw.

Like Rebel wanted Mom, he wished Dad was there. Diesel never would’ve fucked with Rebel to the depth that he had. He wouldn’t have tapped Torrin to fuck with her. CJ still didn’t know what that motherfucker told her.

Holding his stomach, he limped to his table and sat, then put the ice pack back to his forehead. “Fia, get the fuck out of here—”

“You can’t talk to her like that.” Of course Narci had to step his bitch ass in. “This isn’t your party.”