Renegade Hearts (Rebels of Sandland 1)

“Like I’d discuss my father’s income with you. I don’t even know myself.” I shouldn’t have added the last part, but he was starting to piss me off again. “I’m the last person my parents would ever confide in.”

“Is that so? You make it sound like they’ve got something to hide?”

“Haven’t we all?”

He turned to stare straight at me. “I don’t know, have we?” The intensity of his gaze made me feel uncomfortable and I shuffled nervously in my seat.

“I’m an open book,” I said, relaxing back into the seat. “No secrets here. But you? I think you’ve got a lot of things going on that you wouldn’t want my dad finding out about. It’s kind of fucked-up that you use the Renaissance as a label for your shady shit. Doesn’t Renaissance mean rebirth? I don’t see how beating people up or ripping them off with your betting scams could be called a rebirth.”

“And that’s where you’re wrong, Winters. You know fuck all about us. The Renaissance was a time of discovery, taking us from a darker period to a more modern way of life.”

“And that’s why you hide away in the shadows, sending out cryptic messages to stay off the police radar? Because you’re all about the light, aren’t you, Ryan.”

“We’re staying off the system’s radar. Those at the top of the food chain who think they have a God given right to fuck the rest of us over.” I was pissing him off, I could tell. His jaw was clenched and he looked ready to bite back.

“Power to the people, hey? Are you the modern day Marx?”

“We make money. We’re not communists. But we don’t shit on the little people like your father does. We want to make life better, not bleed it fucking dry.” Yep, he was pissed.

“I agree.” I must’ve floored him with that retort, if the bulging of his eyes was any indication.

“Careful, don’t let Daddy hear you talk like that. He might cut your allowance.”

“Enough with the Daddy bullshit. I already told you, I’m no pampered princess. My parents couldn’t give a shit about me. They tolerated me when Danny was alive, and now… Now, I’m just biding my time until I can get out. Not that I need to explain myself to you.”

“Boo fucking hoo. So, you’ve got Daddy issues.”

I was getting bored with this game of verbal tennis and I didn’t feel the need to explain myself when it came to my family.

“Do you know your problem?” I said, hoping to bring him down a peg or two.

“Enlighten me.”

“Your problem is, you don’t know you’re the problem. It’s actually pretty easy not to be a shitty human being. You should try it sometime.”

“Sweetheart, if you’re waiting for me to give a fuck, you’d better pack a lunch. It’s gonna be a while.”

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; If I could’ve jumped out of the truck in that moment, I would’ve. Ryan Hardy was getting under my skin, big time. I hated that he judged me, labelling me the weak little girl like everyone else. His derision only made me more determined to fight back; show him that I had strength. I was tough. Anyone who’d had to live the past eighteen years in my family had to have some backbone. They wouldn’t survive otherwise. Life for a Winters could be cutthroat. I was used to fighting my own corner.

He could chip away all he wanted, but he wouldn’t break me.

We pulled onto the forecourt of his father’s garage and I could see his dad and another guy standing by a car, looking under the bonnet with confused expressions. Ryan brought the truck to a stop at the side of the building and got out. Such a gentleman. He couldn’t even tell me, “We’re here,” he just slammed his door and sauntered off to the rear of the truck to start unloading my car.

I opened my door and stepped down. As I looked up, I spotted Brandon Mathers, leaning up against a black Ford and grinning at me. I saw Ryan shake his head at him out of the corner of my eye. What was that all about?

“When will I get it back?” I asked, pulling my phone out of my bag and scrolling to look for the number of a local taxi firm.

“You’ll get it back when it’s ready,” he replied in a bored, monotone voice.

“Well, well, well, my boy works fast. You giving him your number already, little Winters?” Brandon Mathers was walking towards us looking as smug as shit. “Do I get it too?”

Ryan threw him a dirty look, then carried on working on getting my car off the truck.

“Hell and freezing over spring to mind.” I glared back at him. Where sparring with Ryan was fun and kind of a thrill, I hated Brandon with a passion. He was crass, rude, and a bully. He didn’t care about anyone, not even himself. Even Ryan had some redeeming qualities. Like the way he blushed sometimes when he smiled. The way his smiles were crooked when he found something amusing, but he always threw his head back when he found anything hilarious. The way he…

“You’re blushing, Winters. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Brandon waggled his eyebrows at me, yanking me out of my warped daydreams by the scruff of my neck. “Are you thinking about me?”