Rebellious by Gillian Archer Page B

lackluster parents. “Upstairs. I’m apartment 203.”
    Reb gave a tight nod, then tugged my hand again as he led the way up the side stairs. I couldn’t help but enjoy the view as I watched his flexing ass in front of me all the way up to the second floor. It was a work of art. One I wouldn’t mind exploring later.
    “So is Rhonda and what’s-her-name on this floor, too?”
    I dragged my eyes from his flexing ass and puffed my way up the remaining steps. “Rhonda is. She’s in 205, down the hall. Morgan is below us, in 105. But like I said, they’re on vacation this week, I think.”
    Reb pushed through the fire door, then stopped suddenly in front of me. I crashed into his back with a grunt.
    “What the fuck is this?” he grumbled, swooping down to grab something on the ground.
    I peered behind his back and my blood froze at what he was holding in his hands. A bouquet of dead flowers with a few worms slithering through the dead buds.
    He was back.
    My breath left me in great, heaving gasps. Spots danced in front of my eyes. From somewhere far away, I heard Reb’s “Em? Emily?”
    But I couldn’t answer him. It took all my energy just to concentrate on my wheezing. I couldn’t breathe. Oh God, he was back.
    I couldn’t breathe.
    Oh God, not again.
    I couldn’t breathe.

Chapter 6
Reb
    Reb had heard more than his share of fake hysterics in his life. If it was a sport, his ex would’ve medaled in it. The wheezing, panicked sounds coming from Emily weren’t an act. They were real enough to make him take action. He caught her before she passed out.
    Emily didn’t even give a token protest. She’d covered her gorgeous face with her hands and those panting gasps were the only sounds she made.
    The floor was littered with the dead flowers Reb had dropped to grab her. He crushed them beneath his boot heel as he took the few steps to her door. Jostling her in his arms, Reb freed a hand to dig in his front jeans pocket for the keys one of the prospects had run to his place after checking out Emily’s car.
    Her shitty car fell way down on the list of things he was gonna bitch her out about later. What the fuck was going on? Instead of wasting time now interrogating her, he wanted to get her back to her normal, feisty self. Not this shell of a woman he held in his arms.
    Sliding the key into the lock, he opened the door to her apartment. What he found didn’t make him feel any better.
    The place was tidy. She wasn’t a slob like his ex. Her place was just…run-down. She was obviously not spending any more of her money on furnishings than on her car. He crossed the worn carpet and set her down on the threadbare couch against the far wall in the living room. The smashed cushions didn’t even give with her weight.
    Like her car did last night, the sight filled him with anger. And the fucking flowers outside didn’t help, either. What the hell was going on?
    Leaving her on the couch, he walked back to the door and picked up the dead flowers in the hallway. The decaying mess contrasted with the cheery colors of her welcome mat. His rage building with every gathered dead bud, he paused when he found a florist card at the bottom of the rank pile. Finally, some answers. He flipped the card over but the writing didn’t leave a clue to the sender’s identity. The blood-red ink scratched out five letters in a nasty message: WHORE.
    The note made him even more fucking pissed off.
    “Fucking dickbag!” Reb crossed the hall and dumped the dead flowers and worms over the handrail into the parking lot. He couldn’t give a fuck about who found them later. After folding the vicious card in half, he stuffed it in his back pocket. It might not tell him the identity of the twisted fuck who’d sent the warped bouquet, but once he found out who the asshole was, it might come in handy.
    Entering the apartment again, he crossed the room to the still-wheezing Emily. And he didn’t have a fucking clue what he should do. Get her a