Devil's Game: Reapers Motorcycle Club

by Wylde, Joanna

  “So, any place you want to go special?” I asked. She smiled at me, those brilliant blue eyes flashing.

  “Anywhere they have food. I can’t believe we’re up already. You’d think we’d be exhausted after last night …”

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I promise I won’t faint on you,” I said with a smirk. She giggled. Then her face sobered.

  “Hunter—”

  “Liam.”

  “Liam, I don’t want to get all weird and serious on you,” she said. “But I’m pretty sure I’ll be getting a pissed-off phone call from my dad in the next hour or so. Things got a little out of control last night … I’m not sure what I should tell him.”

  “You’ll tell him you belong to me now,” I said, turning into a Denny’s parking lot. Not the world’s greatest food, but they’d have waffles. Damn, I’d learn to cook them myself if it made her happy.

  “What do you mean, exactly?”

  I put the truck into park, then glanced over at her. Uh-oh. Em’s face was shadowed and worried. I reached out and caught her chin, turning her to face me.

  “You’re my old lady,” I said, catching and holding her eyes. “I respect that he’s your dad and I don’t want to get between you two. But he needs to know you’re mine now. If he has a problem with that, you hand him off to me. I’m serious, babe. Nobody gets between us. Never again.”

  She blinked, her eyes bright.

  “Okay,” she whispered. “But—”

  “No,” I said. “That’s all there is. We’ll have shit come up, fight, whatever. But you’re mine now. I won’t be sharing you, I won’t be leaving you, and I sure as fuck won’t let the Reapers take you away from me.”

  “I hear what you’re saying,” she said slowly. “But I think I should make something clear, too.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I don’t share, either. I know guys in clubs who have two or three old ladies. Or they have a citizen wife and a club girlfriend. You should be aware that this is an exclusive relationship, and that’s nonnegotiable.”

  I shrugged.

  “Okay,” I said, reaching for the door. “Let’s get food.”

  She grabbed my arm.

  “No, I’m serious,” she said. “You can’t just blow this off.”

  “Baby, I’m not blowing it off,” I said, smiling. I kind of liked jealous Em. “But seriously—I don’t give a shit about anyone else anyway. We’re fine.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “You’re a little too good at this,” she said. “Got all the right answers.”

  “It’s hard to be perfect, but I have lots of practice.”

  She hit my arm and laughed. Then her face sobered.

  “I have another serious question for you,” she said. “I don’t want the right answer, though. I want the truth, even if it hurts.”

  Shit. That didn’t sound good.

  “Do you love me?”

  I studied her, considering my answer.

  “No,” I said finally. Her face fell, but I pushed forward. “My life has been pretty fucked up, Em. I’m not even sure I believe in love. But here’s what I can tell you—I’ve never given a shit about any woman except you and Kelsey. That’s it. Hell, I don’t even remember their names half the time, and until I saw you I never even saw a problem with that.”

  She blinked rapidly. Christ, telling the truth sucked. But she asked for it and I’d already done enough lying.

  “I remember the first time I laid eyes on you,” I said. “It was at that little mini mall across from Costco, back in Coeur d’Alene. You’d just gotten your toes painted at the Vietnamese pedicure place. You had those funny, girly things between your toes and you fell off the damned sidewalk because instead of watching where you walked, you were looking at your phone.”

  “That never happened. I’ve never fallen down after a pedicure—I’d remember. That would totally ruin the nails.”

  “Well, you missed the curb but still managed to catch yourself,” I told her, smiling at the memory. “Your phone fell down and broke, I think. I remember you looked up, right at me in my truck, and started laughing at yourself. Then you waved at me, grabbed the phone, and got in your car.”

  She frowned.

  “I actually remember that,” she murmured thoughtfully. “That was you?”

  “Yup, that was me.”

  “That’s … creepy. And weird, because why didn’t I recognize you when we met again?”

  “I had a full beard, my hair was shorter, and I was wearing sunglasses,” I said. “Not only that, the window was tinted. I guess my point is this—I’ve spent days fucking women whose names I couldn’t remember if my life depended on it. But you? I remember everything about the first time I saw you, even though we didn’t even talk to each other. That’s when it started, whatever this is between us. ‘Love’ is a word that doesn’t mean a damned thing to me. ‘Em,’ though? That’s a word that means everything. I’d die for you, babe. Kill for you, too. I stood up to my club for you and I don’t regret any of it, not for a minute. So, you wanted to know how I feel? I don’t even have a word for what I feel, sweetheart. I just know it’s really fuckin’ good.”

  Em sniffed, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around me. She squeezed me tight, then pulled back and took my face in both of her hands, studying me intently.

  “I love you, Liam.”

  I closed my eyes, savoring the sound of the words. Then I said the only thing I could think of, even though I knew it was fucking pathetic.

  “Thanks.”

  Her face fell, although she caught it, smiling at me a little too brightly.

  Telling the truth sucks ass.

  Chapter Sixteen

  FIVE DAYS LATER

  EM

  On the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, I walked into the upstairs bathroom to find black beard hairs all over the sink. Ugh. Boy cooties.

  “I really need to get an apartment,” I muttered.

  “No shit.”

  I jumped as Skid spoke behind me. I swung around to face him, glaring. God, the man was like a fucking cat—always sneaking up and freaking me out. I think he got off on it.

  I’d been staying with Hunter since he’d liberated me from Cookie’s house, which started out fun. I’d gone back a few times, of course, and still kept most of my stuff there. I couldn’t live at her place long term, though, not if I wanted to have Hunter sleeping with me. Cookie didn’t want me bringing guys home, and the last thing we needed was another confrontation between Deke and my boyfriend. Somewhere Hunter could stay over had become a very high priority.

  God, this house was a cesspit.

  I’d made excuses for the guys at first. It’s hard to keep up with housework, especially if you’re not used to it. Clutch still couldn’t get around very easily, and they had so much to worry about with all the drama.

  Yeah, after five nights here I could officially call bullshit on the excuses. Sure, they had to worry about the cartel. That consisted of keeping their eyes open for anything suspicious (nothing) and bitching (endlessly). I knew Hunter and Skid ran errands for Burke, and I knew that Grass held down a job of some sort … But so far as I could tell, their other primary activity was watching porn.

  Oh, did I mention the extensive porn collection?

  And I do mean extensive.

  Kelsey and I got drunk together Sunday night and she filled me in. She was sleeping with Skid, something I couldn’t quite understand a woman doing voluntarily, but she assured me she was just using him for sex. According to her, the place was a clubhouse in every way but name, seeing as Portland wasn’t an official charter. Unofficially, Hunter was acting as president, with Skid as his VP/sergeant at arms. Grass and Clutch were muscle.

  All of them were pigs.

  I turned to look at Skid, who stood in the doorway behind me.

  “Got any suggestions?” I asked. “I need somewhere cheap that doesn’t smell like feet.”

  He sniffed, then gave m
e a puzzled look.

  “It doesn’t smell like feet in here.”

  “No, in here it smells like mildew.”

  He shook his head, frowning.

  “Did Kelsey talk to you?”

  “About what?” I asked.

  “Her place,” he said. “She’s got a spare room and she’s having trouble making rent. I had to buy her groceries this month. She was going to see if you wanted to move in.”

  “She didn’t say anything.”

  “I wonder if Hunter told her not to,” he said slowly. “He’s worried she’ll be a bad influence on you. He might’ve mentioned something to her about backing off and leaving you alone. If you ask about the room, I bet she’ll say yes.”

  “What the hell is up with you two, anyway?”

  “Me and Hunter?”

  “No, you and Kelsey.”

  “Fuck if I know. When she’s horny, she comes to see me. Sometimes. Pretty sure she has at least one other guy on the side.”

  “And you’re cool with that?”

  He shrugged.

  “I can get laid other ways, too,” he said. “No shortage of pussy. But I don’t like seeing her struggle—sharing a place would be a good solution for both of you. You should talk.”

  “I will, thanks.”

  Huh … That was almost … nice?

  Skid nodded and took off down the hallway. Weird guy. I wasn’t nearly as scared of him these days, but I wouldn’t mind seeing less of him. I closed the toilet seat, setting my stuff on it while I grabbed a chunk of toilet paper to wipe down the counter. That’s when my phone started ringing. I glanced at the Caller ID.

  Dad.

  I swallowed, trying to decide if I should answer. Things were a little awkward between us, although he kept tabs on me through Kit. To say our initial conversation about Hunter hadn’t gone well was an understatement. A big understatement.

  Fortunately, nothing new had happened in the whole Reapers/Devil’s Jacks/cartel triangle since the original shootings, but people weren’t exactly breathing easy these days. I think we all assumed it was just a matter of time.

  I sighed and grabbed the phone. I didn’t want him worrying about me, and I knew he would if he couldn’t track me down.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  “Hey, Emmy,” he said. Thankfully, I could tell from the tone of his voice that there wasn’t an emergency. Lately my default assumption was disaster. “I’m just calling to find out if you’re coming home for Thanksgiving. There’s supposed to be a snowstorm tonight, figured I’d check in. You’ll want to drive during daylight tomorrow, if you plan to be here …”

  I smiled despite myself. No matter how weird life got, some things about Dad never changed.

  “It’s killing you that you’re not here to check the tire pressure on my winter tires, isn’t it?”

  He stayed silent for a minute.

  “Not gonna answer that,” he said finally. “But since we’re talking vehicles, when’s the last time you changed your oil? I think it’s just a matter of time before that car starts burning it. You should really be thinking about getting something newer.”

  “My car is fine, Dad,” I said, feeling a little squishy inside. Sure, he drove me crazy. But I also loved the way he was always watching out for me. I missed him, I realized. I wanted to go home for the holiday.

  “I need to talk to Hunter about Thanksgiving,” I said slowly. “We’d discussed cooking something here, with his brothers.”

  Silence fell.

  “You could bring him to Coeur d’Alene,” Dad said.

  I almost dropped the phone.

  “Can you repeat that? I think I heard you wrong. Did you just invite Hunter for Thanksgiving?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Not to the Armory, of course. I know you’re convinced he’s all innocent and shit, but a lot of the guys don’t buy it. But I’ll let him into the house if you come home.”

  I tried to process this.

  “Where would he sleep?”

  I heard a strangled noise on the other end of the line.

  “He could stay in your room with you.”

  “Dad?” I asked carefully. “Are you dying?”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  “Like, do you have cancer or something? This isn’t you. You’re being … nice.”

  “I want my daughter home for fucking Thanksgiving,” he snapped. “If that means I have to put up with her douchebag boyfriend, I will.”

  “He’s my old man, and he’s not a douchebag.”

  “Talk to your sister,” he said suddenly, and then Kit was on the phone.

  “I think Dad’s about to have a stroke,” she told me, her voice excited, the words tripping out almost too fast to follow. “Seriously. He’s clenching his fists and his face is all red.”

  “He just told me Hunter could sleep in my room for Thanksgiving.”

  Dead silence.

  “That is so fucking unfair,” she burst out. “You know how many guys I’ve tried to bring home? He never lets any of them stay with us.”

  “That’s the problem,” I heard Dad say in the background. “Guys. Plural. I don’t agree with Em’s choice, but at least she made one. You’re just using them up like tissues.”

  “Like you should talk?” she demanded. “You’re worse than a fucking alley cat!”

  Great. Once they started, they could go on like this for hours. I hung up, knowing Kit wouldn’t even notice. I’d talk to Hunter after my shower, I decided. I wasn’t quite sure what to think. I wanted to be with my family for the holiday, but I didn’t entirely trust Dad not to shoot Hunter. He’d nearly killed at least two of my boyfriends in the past, and they hadn’t even done anything to piss him off.

  I shut the door and locked it, then stripped down and stepped into the shower with a shudder. I’d bleached the hell out of it the first morning I’d stayed there, but whatever lived in there was vigorous and fighting back. Nasty black crap was already creeping in along the seams.

  Kelsey, I thought. Talk to Kelsey, see if she has room. No matter how much you love him, you can’t live in a house where the shower is hostile and sentient.

  And to think, all this time I’d been afraid of the Devil’s Jacks and their guns—it’d never occurred to me that the real danger was their disgusting, moldy bathroom.

  Chemical warfare.

  Hopefully Hunter would go to Dad’s house with me. At least there, I knew the bathroom would be cleanish. I’d only been gone from Coeur d’Alene a month, nowhere near enough time for this kind of damage, even if Dad deliberately sprayed the mold with magic mold-food every day.

  HUNTER

  Em sat on my lap, her legs on either side of my hips, facing me. She was a smart girl—it’s pretty damned hard for a man to say no to a woman when her pussy’s snuggling up to his cock. Would’ve been perfect if it weren’t for her clothes. I really needed to steal those, maybe set them on fire …

  “So you’ll come with me?” she asked. “I won’t leave without you, but I really want to go. You can even bring Kelsey.”

  I snorted.

  “Kelsey hates holidays. Says they make her think of kittens vomiting, too much nice family crap.”

  Em frowned and cocked her head.

  “That makes me sad,” she said softly. “You guys deserved so much better.”

  “It’s better now, babe.” I leaned up and kissed her, sucking her lower lip into my mouth. She wiggled against my dick, with predictable results. Would I ever get tired of holding this woman? Couldn’t imagine it happening, that’s for damned sure.

  Then she pulled away and I groaned.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” she said, smiling at me eagerly. “Will you come for Thanksgiving?”

  “You’re not being particularly subtle,” I told her, raising a brow.

  “I’m all about direct communication. What’s the verdict?”

  “I need to talk to Burke about it,” I said, considering. “I know it’
s about seeing your family, but there could be larger implications. But if Burke’s okay with it, I can’t imagine anything more fun than spending a holiday in the home of the man who wants me dead. Like our own fuckin’ Hallmark movie, but with live ammo.”

  Em squealed, wrapping her arms around my neck and squeezing tight. This crushed her boobs against my chest, which I approved of completely. Did Hallmark movies have sex scenes?

  “You’re the best,” she whispered. “I can’t wait to show you everything. And I promise, I’ll protect you from Dad.”

  I burst out laughing.

  “I don’t need protection.”

  She pulled away and gave me a look.

  “Yeah, right,” she muttered. “You’re a big bad biker and everyone is afraid of you. Unfortunately, so are the Reapers, and there’s a whole lot of them all concentrated in one place. We’re going to play it safe the whole time, I promise. This means so much to me, Liam—when will you talk to Burke?”

  “He’s supposed to call sometime this evening,” I said, running my hands down her back to cup her ass. “I’ll ask him then.”

  “Sounds good,” she murmured as I pulled her up tight into my hips. Then I rolled until she lay flat under me, all soft and open and gorgeous.

  “I love seeing you like this,” I said. “Love it when your hair is all over my pillow. I want a picture.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I reached for my phone, unlocking it and opening the camera app. Then I sat up, straddling her, and held it over her head.

  “I want a picture of you like this. Smile for me.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Way to put me on the spot,” she muttered, but she smiled. Then right as I took the shot, she stuck out her tongue.

  “You’re a very naughty girl,” I said, frowning at her. “Now smile for real this time or I’m giving you a spanking.”

  I snapped another shot as the disposable cell on my bedside table started ringing.

  “That’ll be Burke,” I said. I dropped my phone on the covers and reached for the burner. “I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t move.”

  She laughed and nodded. I took the cell and stepped out of the room, answering it in the hallway.