Rebels : The Complete Series Read online

  Rebels

  Alexa Riley

  Contents

  Rebels

  His Rebel

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  Her Rebel

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Secret Rebel

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Taking the Fall

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Also by Alexa Riley

  Stalk the Author

  Rebels

  by Alexa Riley

  This bundle includes His Rebel, Her Rebel, and our BRAND NEW story Secret Rebel.

  Revisit your old favorites and discover our newest addition to the trio. This dystopian future is full of insta-love, alpha males, and lots of steam in between.

  Come meet our newest Rebel and stare at this amazing cover. No judgment!

  Copyright © 2018 by Author Alexa Riley LLC. All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to [email protected]

  http://alexariley.com/

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Edited by Aquila Editing

  Cover by Mayhem Cover Creations

  To Abby Knox… for allowing us to enter her world and play.

  His Rebel

  by Alexa Riley

  Sylvia is part of the rebel group looking to overthrow the elites. When she’s hired to cause a scene on camera so the rest of the world can watch, she never expects her fist to connect with a man so sexy.

  Brad Chalmers is a command leader for the elites. He thinks his life is supposed to go in one direction until one day a hot little rebel knocks him on his ass. Then his world is turned upside down.

  Warning: We don’t get caught up in the details of a dystopian future...so come for the insta-love and stay for the steamy parts! We won’t let you down!

  Prologue

  Brad

  The first time I got hard for Insurgent Number One was right before she cold-cocked me.

  I was doing a live interview on the state-sanctioned Friday morning news when I spotted her. One moment, a pair of big tits in a tight tank top were scrambling my thoughts. The next, I was on the ground with an exploding headache, a bloody nose, and a view of her combat boots and fishnet stockings marching away from me, carried by long legs leading up to the nicest ass I’d ever seen in my life.

  I felt like I was going to black out, but then I realized who she was.

  She was my destiny, but she was also my enemy.

  I wasn’t blacking out from the hit to my face, I was blacking out because I had found my other half and knew what that meant. My life was about to change in all ways.

  I get up off the ground and try to fight the brain fog as I reach for my sidearm to make sure it’s still there—a habit for me whenever I come into contact with something or someone. When my hand hits the empty space there, confirming what I knew when I couldn’t feel its familiar weight, I grit my teeth. It’s gone. Insurgent Number One had somehow taken it from me, along with part of my dignity, on live TV for the world to see.

  Shit. The press had seen everything. My mind races as I try to ignore the questions the reporters are shouting at me. This is bad.

  Now there’s footage out there, and The Leader isn’t going to be happy. But then again, I can use the feed to track her little ass down. Teach her a lesson.

  And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

  No woman has ever made me feel like this, and I’ll be damned if I let her get away. Ever.

  Chapter One

  Sylvia

  “You ready, Bo?”

  I scratch my scruffy mutt behind the ears. His cocoa-brown eyes look up at me with pure sweetness as I chug the last of my contraband coffee. When it’s empty, I toss the paper cup out of my apartment window. There’s no need to worry about litter. Someone will pick it up within the hour and make use of it.

  I go to my stereo and pick a song to get me fired up. I find a collection of classics that my grandmother shared with me from when she was a little girl. I blast the old-school punk anthem while Bo watches me stretch. I feel the beat of the music and nod my head as I lace up my scuffed boots. The Regime hasn’t outlawed this type of music yet, but it’s only a matter of time before it happens. I should be more careful, but it’s seven in the morning, and I need the adrenaline rush that the music gives me.

  My studio apartment is small and I pace around, thinking about what I need to do today. I can walk from one side to the other in just a few steps, and though that thought should be sad, I’m thankful I’ve got a place to call home. Not everyone can say that, and it’s nice to have a place that feels somewhat safe.

  It’s just me and Bo, but I’m lucky that I’ve got a bed, a bathroom, and a little kitchen that are all my own. I’m a few floors up, so I have a good view of the street below, and sometimes at night I can see the stars from my bed. It’s not much, but it’s clean and that’s more than I can say for most.

  After the song ends, Bo jumps up and we walk out to the dark hallway. I go right past the elevator that’s been broken for about seven years now and hit the stairs, taking them fast to try to keep my adrenaline. Tenants have no recourse these days against landowners, and the dog and I prefer to walk instead of getting in a small space anyway. Fear of getting stuck in the ancient metal box is enough to make me thankful we don’t have to use a ladder.

  Once we get on the street outside, we turn left to head toward downtown. Already there’s a picker on the street sorting my coffee cup into a large pile of scrap wood and paper for kindling. I nod as I walk past her and she gives me the secret greeting of The Insurgence. The sign is a left middle finger to the right ear. I return the secret gesture, though she should be more careful with it. There are cameras everywhere. I’m vigilant to disable every new device that emerges on the street, but no one can be sure. I always worry that some new technology may come out that I might not know about before it’s too late t
o catch it and disable it. If we use the secret greeting too often, or the wrong person sees us, the Regime would pick up on it sooner or later and that would be bad for all of us.

  A block or so down Sinclair Street, Bo and I pass the fuel pit. As always, we give them a wide berth and walk out into the street. Those guys are never too careful with their liquids, and it’s better not to breathe in whatever they’re using to power the neighborhood grid today. I’m sure they’d be all too willing to tell me what they’ve come up with, but I find it’s better not to engage with them. I’m fully capable of handling myself, but it’s easier to avoid confrontation. Especially when I’m dressed like I am today. I don’t need to draw any more attention than I already am.

  It’s Black Friday, which is an important day for us rebels. Everyone is outside their home saying hello, but being cautious, too. It’s quiet as my dog and I walk the streets, but there is an underlying current of anticipation of what might come. What I hope comes. The energy around us is charged, and I can feel it in the tips of my fingers.

  I pass the government distribution center, where a small mob of hungry people are angrily waiting for their monthly rations of dried beans, rice, and drinking water. I move by quickly with Bo on my heels. He knows to keep close to me. If I do a good job today, a jar of peanut butter might appear in my mailbox, and then dried beans and rice can kiss my ass. I’ve got a lot riding on this, but so do my people, and I won’t let them down.

  Clean air and crystal-blue water are up ahead as I cross into the suddenly clean government office district. Rage builds inside me as it always does when I scan my pass and enter the part of society where my kind isn’t allowed. Well, not without illegal papers and badges like I have. Our kind isn’t welcome, but that doesn’t stop me. Not today, that’s for sure.

  I need to focus.

  Fridays are the only days that our TVs work, thanks to our half-assed generators, so those are the days we try to make the biggest splash to be seen and heard. Black Friday is what we call the day when they pick a top official to address the country. That’s the day we need it to count. Just to let them know we don’t give a shit about their agenda. We’re not going away quietly, and I’m here to deliver that message. These walls they have built to keep us out aren’t going to work. We can get into their world if we want. Let them feel a little bit of the fear they make us live with.

  I have one assignment today, and that’s to punch Brad Chalmers in the face on the weekly live feed. If I don’t get caught, I’ll get paid in food rations, along with the glory of a job well done for The Insurgence. Drawing blood usually gets me an additional small reward, like the contraband coffee I had this morning. Ruining a live propaganda feed on a Black Friday? Insurgents far and wide will see it and slip me rewards for at least a week after the fact. One time I spray painted a crown of cocks on a wall behind an official giving a speech on sexual abstinence. They weren’t able to cut the live feed before everyone saw it. After that, people snuck me contraband condoms for a week.

  Those condoms are a frequent symbol of the Insurgence. Nobody knows how old they are or if they even work anymore. The Regime banned all forms of birth control ages ago, and I’d been taught by their teachers that abstinence was the only way to a happy life. Officially they want us only having sex within the confines of a state-sanctioned marriage. They want to populate the country with what they deem the cultural elite.

  The problem with that is that most people, whether Insurgent or Regime Loyalists, are so desperately sad that the only thing they have to look forward to is fucking. And with a severe lack of birth control, people produce babies like no tomorrow. Babies conceived outside the bonds of state-sanctioned marriage are illegitimate, and therefore not entitled to certain rights, such as attending school. I grit my teeth thinking about it.

  This is the main reason I’m still a virgin. I’ve never so much as been kissed because of what it might lead to. I’ve been on the front lines for a long time, and I have no intention of stopping. Having a baby would completely sideline me, and what if it took me off track from my mission? I can’t take that chance. I have to remain focused.

  I’ve had plenty of offers though. Men look at me and I know what they see. I’ve got big tits, long legs, and wide hips. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what they’re after. But the truth is, they have no idea what they’d be getting with me. I’m a rebel to the core, and I’m not going to give any man, even a brother in the Insurgence, my cherry. Even if for some reason I slipped and had a moment of complete stupidity, I wouldn’t give them my heart along with my body. I made a promise to myself long ago and I’m sticking to it.

  I’ve never loved anyone but myself. I don’t even have a companion except for Bo. I barely have human friendships at all, and most of those I can’t trust. What if they tried to use me for their gain? I can’t chance it. Apart from my infrequent visits to the Insurgent headquarters, I don’t have physical contact with anyone. It’s for my own good, but I can’t think about it too long. It’s starting to get to me. My body is turning against me, and sometimes I ache for someone else’s touch. The loneliness is starting to claw at me, making me wonder if I’m only lying to myself about how I feel, but it’s a lie I know I have to make myself believe or I could fall. And I sure as hell don’t have anyone to help pick me up, so I have to make sure I don’t fall.

  Loyalists are given special privileges such as clean, hot running water. So when a man looks like he’s bathed recently, I’m about ready to fall on my knees and unzip his pants for him. What’s wrong with me? Those are exactly the kind of guys I’m supposed to hate. But dammit, they look well fed, clean, free of diseases. Fuck. It’s only a matter of time before I’m going to have to somehow take one of them. I need to get it out of my system so I can focus on my work again. My body is betraying all that I’ve fought for, and it’s a problem.

  Just one thick cock inside me and I’ll be back at work, better than ever. Right? Maybe those condoms aren’t bad. Maybe they work. What about the pull-out method I’ve heard about? I shake my head at myself and try to push all those thoughts away. Now is not the time.

  When I get to the plaza, I approached my mark for the day. Up ahead I can see the cameraman and a boom mic guy, filming some nonsense. Facing the camera, I see Brad Chalmers and his perfect handsome face. Hopefully not handsome for long though. Just this is enough to piss me off. He’s one of the elite, and he’s got to go down on camera.

  I blend in with the crowd of people headed to work. As I get closer I can see his ice-blue eyes and dark stubbled beard. He’s tall, broad, and looks like a beast. My legs begin to tense and I have to hold them close together as I look him up and down. Oh shit. He’s even better looking up close. No one should look that fucking good.

  I’ve had the feeling of wanting a man before, but it’s nothing like what’s pounding through my body at this moment. When I’d thought of wanting a man before there were never any faces or names. It was more the idea of what it would feel like, but now stupid Brad’s face is filling that blank spot.

  This isn’t right. I can’t stand him, I remind myself over and over. I clench my fists as I try to ignore the throb in my lady bits and the pain of my nipples tightening. Instead, I pull my baggy hooded sweatshirt tight around me and gather my thoughts. I have to shut down these feelings and focus. It’s time.

  I walk past the camera crew to the end of the block with Bo right on my heels. I dig in my shoulder bag and pull out my red rose, tucking it behind my ear. The flowers we leave behind as a calling card don’t mean much, but it drives the enemy crazy trying to figure out why we do it. So of course we keep it up. Anything to piss them off.

  After circling back to the main stage, I take off my sweatshirt and leave it beside Bo, who knows to stay put. My tight black and white striped tank top is not approved for a woman to wear in public. It’s considered too revealing, but that’s the point. My heart rate rises and my face grows hot as I march past the crew.

&n
bsp; Brad Chalmers’ eyes lock on my tits and I feel a rush of excitement as I see the hunger light up his eyes. I hate him for it. I don’t want to get excited by his heated look. I want to get excited about punching him in his face. I hold on to that hatred, because right now I need it.

  I ball up my fist and plant my feet. I cold-cock him right in the face, then feel the cartilage crack and shift beneath my knuckles. The pain crawls up my arm, but the adrenaline is going now and I don’t focus on it.

  The whole thing was almost too easy. He let me walk right up to him. The beast falls like timber and knocks his head on the pavement. In the commotion that follows, I reach down and swipe his pistol before cramming my red rose into his holster. I can’t stop myself from letting my fingers brush along his side, wanting to feel him.