Reaper's Fire (Reapers Motorcycle Club #6)

by Joanna Wylde

  Margarita and I stared at her, eyes wide.

  “What?” she asked, all innocence.

  “That’s some serious stalker shit,” Margarita said slowly, and I had to agree. Sometimes Carrie scared me.

  “Yeah, it’s a disease,” Carrie said seriously. “And not only am I good at stalking people, I’m vindictive as hell. That’s why you should always buy me lots of alcohol, so I stay in a good mood. Now, here’s the plan. Tinker, you’re going to text him later today. Tell him you wanted to apologize for going all sad on him, and that you’d like to take him out to dinner or something.”

  “If I do that and he figures out how I got the number, he’ll probably file for a restraining order,” I said. Carrie shrugged.

  “You already went all crazy on him last night,” she said reasonably. “You’ve got nothing to lose at this point.”

  I looked to Margarita, waiting for her to shoot down the ridiculous plan. She shrugged.

  “I’m the wrong person to ask. Crazy is what I do, remember? And you need a distraction from your hot handyman. I can see why you want to sleep with him. If I weren’t married—”

  “Not helping,” Carrie said, cutting her off. “So, you’ll call and ask him out?”

  I considered the situation, then sighed.

  “What the hell . . . send me the number.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  GAGE

  I stared at Marsh’s gun, a surge of adrenaline roaring through me. No fuckin’ way I’d be able to get it away from him before he shot me. Nope. I’d have to bluff my way through this one.

  “You got somethin’ you wanna tell me?” Marsh asked.

  This is it, asshole. If he’s onto you, you’re dead. Of course, my Reaper brothers would skin him alive—vengeance was kind of our thing—but seeing as I’d be in a grave by then, the thought wasn’t much comfort.

  Time to roll the dice.

  “Yeah, I got somethin’ to tell you,” I said, offering a grim smile. “I’m considering breaking up with your sister, seeing as she fucks other guys. It’s getting old.”

  Marsh stared at me for long seconds, eyes wild, then he burst into maniacal laughter. I kept myself loose and ready for action, but he was lowering the gun.

  “Jesus, you’re crazy, Romero,” he said, shaking his head. “Usually guys piss themselves like babies when I do that.”

  Yeah, well, I’m a Reaper, not one of your fuckin’ pussy rejects.

  “Got nothin’ to hide, Marsh,” I said, holding my hands out to the side, palms up. “You wanna shoot me, not like I can stop you.”

  “Sit down,” Marsh said, jerking his chin toward a chair. I sat, leaning back like I was totally relaxed and comfortable with the situation. “We’ve got a traitor. Told you about him already—goes by the name Hands.”

  I raised a brow.

  “Traitor? What did he do?”

  “Talked to the feds,” he said, leaning toward me, knee jittering. “And maybe the Reapers, too. Playing both sides. He sold us out.”

  “I get the feds, I guess, but what do the Reapers have to do with anything?” I asked carefully, because what he’d said made no fucking sense at all. Hands was dead, and he sure as hell hadn’t been a Reapers spy.

  Meth logic.

  “Nothing,” Marsh said, narrowing his eyes. “They think they run Washington, but this is my territory. Just because the old president was willing to crawl up their asses doesn’t mean I will. They sent this Hands fucker to spy on us. I gotta figure out where he is. Can I trust you? Things might get ugly.”

  Nodding my head, I leaned back in my chair. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  Marsh smiled.

  “Guess you are,” he said. “Just remember—you fuck up, Hands won’t be the only bastard I put underground.”

  Charming.

  “Go out there and keep an eye on everyone. I gotta keep lookin’ for the spies. Nobody leaves, nobody makes phone calls, nothing. You got me?”

  Oh, I got him, all right. Crazy fucker.

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  • • •

  Things got worse as the morning passed.

  I stood watch as Marsh grew more paranoid, calculating ways to take him down. He was close to snapping, and I figured shit might get real any minute now. If it happened, I’d probably be able to get myself away if I slipped out the back, but for some reason I couldn’t quite bring myself to abandon the others. I kept thinking about Sadie sitting alone in the dark, hugging her knees to her chest, and Rome worrying about saving his job.

  He should be worrying about saving his life.

  They had no fuckin’ clue what they’d gotten themselves into, and for some reason, I didn’t want to see them die today. If it came down to it, I’d do whatever it took to stop Marsh.

  Stupid of me, I know.

  Talia and the girls she’d taken to pick up food came back around eleven, no food in sight. Guess they’d forgotten. She was full of energy, though, running toward me and jumping up to wrap her legs around my waist.

  “We should—”

  “Listen up!” Marsh shouted, cutting her off. I lowered her as the bikers and their women came closer, waiting for whatever fresh hell he’d planned. “Last night we learned that Hands—he was a hangaround here for a while—was a spy. He disappeared, but I heard he’ll be at the car show down in Ellensburg tonight. We leave in ten minutes. Bitches are with Talia in the truck. Coop, get your ass over here. We gotta talk.”

  I walked over to him, watching the Nighthawks scrambling to grab their shit.

  “What’s up?” I asked him.

  “Where’s your cousin? You know, the blond guy who was with you when you first came to town. What’s his name again?”

  Painter.

  “Levi,” I said. “He’s had a rough time of it, been busy with shit back home.”

  “Need you to call him, tell him to meet us in Ellensburg.”

  Hadn’t thought Marsh could still surprise me at this point, but this did the trick.

  “Why?”

  “I need more backup,” he said. “And there’s traitors in the club. I can’t trust any of these fuckers. Oh, and by the way . . . I don’t fuckin’ trust you, either. I’m watchin’ all of you. Now, go pick up your phone and give your boy his orders. Jakes! Over here!”

  He waved the other biker over, making it clear he was done with me. I headed back to the bar, where a big bear of a guy pulled out the box of phones they’d confiscated earlier so I could call my cousin. I found mine and headed out to the fenced area out back, where I could talk without anyone listening in or sneaking up on me.

  Pic answered on the first ring.

  “We got some serious shit going down,” I told him.

  “Talk to me.”

  “Marsh just ordered everyone onto their bikes. He’s paranoid as shit, and he wants my cousin, Levi, to ride over for backup. Been trapped here with him all night like a bunch of fuckin’ hostages. Took our phones and everything. Only got mine back so I can call Levi. I’ve got a spare burner on my bike if they take it from me again. Oh, and get this—he thinks Hands was a federal informant and a Reapers spy, and that we’ll find him down in Ellensburg.”

  Silence.

  “Don’t leave me hangin’ boss,” I said. “We need a plan.”

  “Sorry,” Pic replied. “Just thinking. Guess you weren’t kidding about him falling apart, because that makes no damned sense at all. Okay, we just got out of chapel and everyone’s already here at the Armory, so that helps. Just have to call them back in. Here’s the thing—Painter’s only been out of jail a couple hours. He’s facing some serious fuckin’ time if they catch him violating his parole again. We could go over in a display of force, just a casual trip to see the show. If you needed us we’d be there and if you didn’t, the cover won’t be blown.”

  I thought it over. Marsh was like a stick of lit dynamite, and at this point anything could push him over the edge. God help us all if he picked up a nail in his
tire. Even if Painter showed, there were no guarantees. The key was surviving on the ride down—once I got there the club could step in if they had to.

  “He doesn’t need to come,” I told him. “They want to put a bullet in my brain, that’s gonna happen on the way down. For all I know, Marsh is lying about Hands and this is just an ambush. He’s made it clear he doesn’t trust me for shit. Doesn’t trust any of us—man is paranoid and losing it.”

  “How serious a risk do you think it is?” Pic asked. “More intel won’t help anyone if you’re riding to your execution. We can end this thing now.”

  I considered the point, trying to stay detached. Not the easiest thing to do when you’re talking about your own death.

  “Marsh is scattered,” I told him. “Twitching, can’t hold his thoughts together very well. I think he’s running on pure instinct right now—not calculating. I’m not his primary target.”

  “Okay then, here’s a plan,” Pic said. “First up, this is your ass on the line, so you pull the plug if things change. Second, I’ll gather the brothers and figure out a plan. If I have to call you, I’ll pretend to be Levi until you give me an all clear.”

  “Thanks. Come in soft . . . Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll back down.”

  “Yeah, and maybe you’ll get a magical kiss from a fairy princess, wake up, and discover this was all a dream.”

  “I’m flipping you off right now,” I said, biting back a smile.

  “This is not a surprise. Take care, brother. Remember—we’re your family. We’ll do whatever it takes, got me?”

  “Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  • • •

  The next four hours were the longest in my life.

  I saw the way Marsh watched when I came back in. Speculative. Calculating. Did he have some bigger plan I didn’t know about? As for Talia, she was almost giddy with excitement about the trip, although she didn’t like that we’d be traveling separately.

  “I don’t understand why I can’t ride with you,” she whined. I shrugged.

  “Ask your brother. I’m just followin’ orders.”

  “You guys bring in the traitor, he’ll give you a patch,” she said, changing subjects abruptly. “Especially if your cousin comes as backup. Did you get hold of him?”

  Her casual question startled me, and I stopped so suddenly that she bumped into me. Would’ve been funny if there weren’t a slow burn building in my stomach.

  “Marsh told you about that?”

  Talia smirked, reaching up with one finger to touch my lips, shushing me. “I know everything, baby. Including the fact that you called me a bitch. But don’t worry—he thought it was funny. I think it’s funny, too. Thing is, I like fucking you and you’re pretty to look at, but don’t let it go to your head. If my brother has to choose between us, it’s not gonna end well for you.”

  Then she popped up on her toes, offering me a long, slow kiss.

  “Ride safe.”

  I watched her swagger off toward a Dodge Ram quad cab, where the girls had already gathered in a giggling cluster, a now-calm Sadie among them. Couldn’t see any bruises from here, but maybe she’d put on a fuckload of makeup or something. Hard to believe she was the same pitiful creature I’d found crying back behind the building earlier that morning. Weird, fucked-up girl. Of course, you’d have to be to stay friends with Talia.

  Minutes later, engines roared to life as Marsh and the others pulled out in formation, leaving me, Rome, and the other hangarounds to suck their fumes. There were many, many things I missed about riding with my club, not the least of which was a decent position in the pack.

  Exhaust wasn’t the only thing we had to suck down along the way. Half an hour into the trip, a thick cloud of smoke rolled down across the highway, tiny specks of white ash raining down on us. Wildfire in the distance. Then we passed a series of blackened patches of ground along the pavement.

  Flames had been through here, and recently.

  Creepy as hell.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I managed to coordinate with Pic along the way, sending him quick text messages when we stopped for gas. Marsh let me keep the phone because I’d told him I’d left Levi a message, and he’d be getting back to me. He hadn’t liked it—that much was obvious—but he’d agreed. I had plenty of time to consider the situation while we rode, which always one of my favorite things about being on the bike. Things were grim, no question, but there were some good signs, too.

  For one thing, Marsh hadn’t killed me yet.

  For another, my club brother, Painter, had already agreed to meet me in Ellensburg. That meant he’d chosen to violate his parole—a huge fuckin’ risk. He’d be coming in behind the main Reapers pack and meeting up with me separately. Whatever happened after that, at least I wouldn’t be facing it alone.

  Along the way there were several times where the smoke was thick enough that I wondered if they’d shut down the highway, but we finally pulled into town around four thirty. It took us a while to find a parking spot for the bikes, because the streets were choked with hot rods. Things felt safer with all the witnesses. No fuckin’ way Marsh was planning on taking me out, not here. Not unless he was planning suicide by cop—they were out in force for the event.

  We parked the bikes just off the main strip, leaving a prospect to keep an eye on them. Down the street was an old brick bank building—you know, one of those with an engraved date on the cornerstone and arches over all the doors. Marsh led us inside and I froze.

  Cop bar.

  Not like it was full of guys in uniform, but there were framed pictures of officers on the walls, along with newspaper articles and such. I figured most of the local cops were on duty for the rally, but there was a group of three men watching us, and they didn’t strike me as civilians.

  Jesus fuck, I had no idea where Marsh was going with this, but he was a fuckin’ moron. We were meeting his contacts here, of all places? Made no sense, unless it was a setup. This wasn’t Hallies Falls and I knew damned well the Ellensburg police department wasn’t in the Nighthawks’ pocket.

  Whatever Marsh planned to do, they’d be on him in a heartbeat.

  The bar owners had set up a beer garden using temporary fencing in one of the side streets, and by the time I made it outside Marsh already had a tray of shots in front of him. He downed three in a row while I watched, laughing and groping any girl stupid enough to get close. Looking around, I spotted three uniformed officers on the other side of the fence. Then the guys I suspected very strongly were cops in civvies came out, grabbing a table not far away.

  Yeah, this was a fuckin’ fishbowl.

  I turned away to hide the phone as I unlocked it manually—no fingerprint protection for me, not when the man you’re protecting it from wouldn’t think twice about cutting a finger off—and sent Picnic a quick message.

  ME: Downtown at the Banner Bank Tavern. They have a beer garden on one of the side streets—closed to traffic. Marsh and his crew are drunk as fuck and he’s tweaking. Paranoid. Got six cops watching us. Worried that Marsh will blow it.

  PICNIC: Across the street. Don’t want to come over unless we need to. Think it might set Marsh off?

  ME: Hang back for now. Painter anywhere near you yet?

  PICNIC: He’s behind us, should be here soon.

  ME: K

  Deleting the messages, I wandered over to the outdoor counter, which was basically a pass-through counter to the inside of the building. I ordered a pitcher and glanced through the chain link while I waited. Sure enough, across the street Pic, Horse, Bam Bam, and Ruger walked along a line of custom choppers, looking them over and talking casually.

  “Hey, Cooper!” Sadie said, and I turned to get my first good look at her since last night. Thick, pancake makeup covered a swollen face, and her eyes were glazed. Painkillers, probably. She’d had at least one shiner forming—probably two—and yet here she was, nodding and smiling like nothing had happened. Christ, I hoped it was jus
t an act to get through this fucked up, crazy-ass day. “I hear your cousin is coming! I had so much fun with him last time he was in town . . .”

  “Yeah, he said he’d head over. Should be here soon. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”

  Unlikely, considering last time she saw Painter, she spent the night puking on him. Behind her, I noticed one of the cops leaning over, speaking quietly into his shoulder radio.

  “Wanna dance?” Sadie asked.

  “Not really my thing,” I told her, reaching to take a pitcher from the bartender. “Can you grab me some glasses?”

  Talia met me halfway, catching my free hand and dragging me toward a table. I nearly dropped the damned pitcher as she shoved me into a chair, then straddled me.

  “I am so fucking horny right now,” she whispered in my ear, because apparently the situation wasn’t ridiculous enough already.

  “Levi!” Sadie shouted excitedly, and I looked over to see Painter strolling toward us. His tall frame looked tired and his light blond hair was matted from the ride. I glanced around at the cops, hoping to hell none of them gave him any shit. He so much as coughed in the wrong direction, his ass would go back to prison.

  “Good to see you,” he said, catching Sadie as she ran over to him. She tried to pull him in for a kiss, but he turned his head, so she caught his cheek instead. “Coop said he’d be here, suggested I come over to join you guys.”

  “Where have you been?” she asked. “You just disappeared that night.”

  “Jail,” he said shortly, surprising me. Guess he figured the truth was easiest—certainly wouldn’t hurt him in Marsh’s eyes. “Violated the terms of my parole, so they locked me up to teach me a lesson.”

  Sadie’s eyes widened, and she reached up to rub his chest. “Sounds dangerous.”

  Poor fucker. He’d risked going back to prison and had left his girl behind all to help me out. I decided I should throw him a lifeline.

  “Levi!” I shouted, pushing Talia off my lap. Pulling him in for a hug, I took the opportunity to give him an update. “Shit’s ugly. We gotta contain Marsh or he’s gonna blow everything.”