Page 96 of Rebellious

The job seemed daunting, mainly because of the special treatment.

“Those kids aren’t stupid, Easton,” Diesel said when Easton voiced his concerns. “Most of the student body doesn’t know Aunt Meggie and Uncle Christopher own the fucking school. They follow CJ’s lead and he acts like a regular student.”

“Not so regular if the younger kids have special privileges.”

“It was approved by the teachers. Trust me when I say don’t rock that boat.”

“I’ll get in trouble.”

“When the suspensions start rolling in, you will,” Diesel said, then shrugged. “You can try it your way, but I suggest you give yourself a little breathing room before you jump into that particular fire.” He glanced around again. “I would have Aunt Meggie call you. She loves decorating projects, but Uncle Christopher won’t be happy with that scenario.”

Easton grunted. All because he resembled a movie star who Meggie had a crush on. “I can’t change my fucking face.”

“More’s the pity. It would save a lot of bullshit.”

“I suppose so,” Easton agreed, and thrust his chin toward the locked file cabinet. “I suppose the kids’ records are under lock and key?”

“Something like that,” Diesel said cryptically. “All paper trails are for legitimate business only. Do not text about jobs—”

“Do you think I’m fucking stupid? I know how this works.”

“We’ll fucking see,” Diesel grumbled, and started to walk out. “What kind of fucking car do you want?”

Easton laughed until he saw Diesel’s seriousness and his humor died.

He gaped. “Uh—”

“I think that borrowed Chevrolet is perfect for you, but I have to follow Aunt Meggie’s order in this. She thinks you need a car befitting your status.”

“And if I don’t last at the job? Screw up or don’t like it?”

“Then we bury you in your fucking car,” Diesel barked, snatching the doorknob in his hand. “We’ll settle this another time. Later,” he said, and left Easton alone.

Much like Kendall had planned, Anne Phillips’ law office was located inside her modest two-story home on a tree-lined street, right off the main highway. The designated area was bigger than what Kendall would’ve had if she’d followed through with the purchase of the home she’d toured a few weeks ago. There would’ve been a separate entrance, like Anne, but not an office for herself and a reception area complete with a paralegal/assistant.

“Ms. Miller?”

While Kendall waited for Anne to get finished with a conference call and her assistant worked on a file, Kendall thought about the letters she’d found, proclaiming Meggie, Roxy, and CJ as the club’s owners.

“Ms. Miller?”

Bash wouldn’t be the only one gunning for Meggie, but the question was where were the fucking deeds? What was she missing?

A gentle shake of the shoulder made Kendall lift her head. “I’m sorry, Ms. Miller. I’ve been calling you, but you didn’t seem to hear.”

She’d heard, but she was so used to referring to herself as Kendall Donovan, ‘Ms. Miller’ hadn’t registered. Still having no answers to that fucking deed puzzle, Kendall grabbed her purse and got to her feet. She smiled at Chastity. “My mind was on work.”

Chastity nodded. She was a pretty blonde woman, about Mattie’s height. “I totally get that. Even when I’m home, I’m thinking about depositions and rulings and legal proceedings.”

She indicated the opened door with a wave of her manicured hand. “Follow me.”

Anne Phillips knew of the Death Dwellers. She knew Kendall was married to one of the club’s officers and probed for information, which Kendall shut down. Any criminal investigation would bring heat to the club, so instead of mentioning their sex life and his coercion, she discussed mental abuse.

“You need to file for a legal separation as soon as possible, Ms. Miller.” She nodded to Chastity who wrote on her legal pad. “That is my first recommendation.”

Kendall feared disturbing the hornet’s nest. She came to explore her future options. Not take immediate ones. “I can’t. Not yet.”

“Why in heaven’s name not?” Anne boomed.