Reaper (Kings of Korruption MC Book 4)

by Geri Glenn

  “If you were so close, why didn’t we know about you before this?”

  Suddenly, his hand is tangled in the hair at the back of my head, and he’s got my face shoved into the table in front of me. “Shut up,” he snarls through gritted teeth. Spittle flies from his mouth, dropping onto my cheek as I glare up at him.

  “You’re lucky I’m cuffed, asshole.”

  Using my hair, he lifts my head and cracks it down onto the table again. “I know you killed him, you fucker. You and your club. You bastards killed him and you fucked over my entire fucking career.”

  After a third slam, I can feel blood trickle from my mouth. “So what part are you most worried about, Belanger? Your dead friend, or the lack of intel slowin’ down your career?”

  This time when he yanks on my hair, he uses it to lift me up and toss me across the room like a rag doll. I’m surprised the pussy has the strength. I’ve got more than forty pounds of muscle on him, easy.

  His booted foot slams into my stomach before I have a chance to get to my feet. “Where did the drugs go, Landry? All my contacts?” He draws his foot back and kicks me again. Spittle flies from his lips as he screams down at me. “Gone. All the dealers that were paying me to keep the cops off them!” He draws his foot back and kicks me again. “Gone. You fuckers think you went this long without getting caught based on you all being good fucking Samaritans?” He kicks me again, and this time, I feel the crack of at least three ribs. “I kept the cops off you. Me! Tiny fed me intel. I collected my share from the dealers, everyone was happy.” Another kick. “And then you fucked it all up.”

  Pounding echoes through the room, coming from the other side of the door. I can hear several men yelling, but I can’t make out the words. All I can focus on at this point is sucking air in and blowing it back out, and that’s proving to be very difficult at the moment.

  I twist my face into a cocky grin, forcing myself to stay calm and appear to be in control. “You’re one twisted cop, you know that?” I grind out, pressing my hands to my ribs, as if that will stop the pain. “Most of ’em fight crime, but you’re punishin’ us for not committin’ it. Don’t you see how fuckin’ twisted that is?”

  Belanger’s face goes red and I watch with a sort of morbid fascination as a large vein near his left temple grows bigger until it’s practically bursting from his skin. His eyes narrow, and even though I know it happens in an instant, I watch his boot come at my face in what feels like slow motion.

  Just as the doors to the interrogation burst open, Lawson leading the charge, everything goes black.

  Anna

  “Stop it!” Charlotte screams from her place on the couch. She struggles to stand, but the tremors in her body have made her weak. “Please,” she sobs. “Please, don’t hurt her.”

  Shiv steps back, glaring down at me. “Stupid, stupid, stupid bitch!” He flails the knife around and I watch as the blood drips down it and comes flying off in large drops. “You made me do that. You made me hurt you. Dammit,” he screams. Before I know what’s happening, he grabs my arm and lifts me, shoving me toward the couch like he’d done with my sister. Once I’m seated, he groans and uses the fist holding the knife to pound on his forehead. “Fuck. Think, Shiv. Think.”

  Charlotte’s hand grasps mine, the other one folded protectively across her belly. “Anna,” she whispers, her face wet with tears. “The baby.”

  She glances down and I follow her gaze. Her pants are soaked between her legs, and even though I’m no medical professional, even I know that this is bad. Shiv is still pacing, mumbling to himself and gesturing, paying us very little attention. Cradling my arm in my good hand, I lean over and kiss her cheek. “I’m going to get us out of here.”

  “You can’t,” she whispers on a sob. “He’s insane.”

  I look up at Shiv. We’d been almost friends once. He’d been good to me way back when, if you call keeping me stocked up on opiates being good. Maybe I could talk to him, make him see reason.

  “Shiv,” I call, barely able to hear my own voice over his ranting. “Shiv, please. My sister. Her water broke. You have to let me call an ambulance for her. You have to let me help my sister.”

  Shiv’s red-rimmed eyes move to Charlotte, and I feel her shrink back into the couch. “Your old man fucked me over. He took away my fuckin’ livelihood.” He sneers down at her stomach. “Now I take away his family.”

  Everything happens so fast. One minute he’s glaring at Charlotte, the next, he’s running at her, his blade high in the air. I jump up and tackle him, just as he gets close to us, using every extra pound of precious weight I’ve put on to knock his skinny ass to the ground.

  I feel the knife slip into the soft flesh of my belly, but there’s no pain. Only rage and desperation, and the need to protect my sister and her baby. When he pulls the knife out, my head swims a little, but Charlotte’s scream brings me out of it, just in time to see him pull back, coming at me a second time. Reaching up, I push against his forearm, screaming with effort as I try to keep the knife from slicing me open a third time.

  I feel the blood as it gushes from my wound, slipping down my side as I lay on the floor, struggling with everything that I have left in me. My baby. It’s not just my sister and her baby anymore. I have a baby to protect too.

  I push and I groan, I kick and I scream. Even with that effort, Shiv’s wild eyes stare into mine as the blade gets closer, this time to my chest.

  The vase that explodes on the back of his head sends ceramic shards raining down onto my face, and then the weight of him is gone. I open my eyes and Charlotte is standing above us, shoulders heaving, knees buckling, and Shiv is out like a light.

  Suddenly free, I blink up at my sister. My savior. And then, she’s on the ground too. “Char!” Charlotte curls up in the fetal position. A low keening wail comes from her that makes my hair stand on end. I push Shiv off my lower half and drag myself toward the phone on the table, against the far wall. Pulling it off its docking station with a shaking hand, I press the numbers 911.

  Reaper

  I come to, still sitting on the floor. Lawson is kneeling in front of me, his hand raised to slap me. “You wanna keep that hand, you’ll drop it,” I say, my voice thick.

  Lawson chuckles. “Even hurt, you’re still a dick.” He reaches back and uncuffs me, then holds out his hand. I grasp it, letting him do most of the work as he pulls me up off the floor.

  “Where’s Belanger?” I want to kick that cocksucker’s fucking ass.

  “In lockup,” Lawson says, and for the first time, I notice all the other people in the room. Three plain clothed cops I’ve never seen before, as well as Cam and Bax.

  “What’s goin’ on?”

  It’s Bax that steps forward. “Belanger’s being charged with a list a mile long, including assisting with drug trafficking, receiving illegal payouts, obstructing justice, stalking and assault.”

  My head swims and I reach forward, sitting my ass back down in the seat I’d been in earlier. “How?”

  Cam steps forward. “I’ve been digging up dirt on that prick all along, and finally I found some dealers that were willing to trade intel in exchange for a shorter sentence. I got a hold of Mr. Baxter here to broker the deal, and Lawson’s been doing some digging of his own. It was a group effort, but let’s just say, you won’t have to worry about Belanger for a long fucking time, brother.”

  “We’ve been monitoring Belanger while he’s been monitoring the Kings,” Lawson says, gesturing to the other officers. “The orders he made were rarely authorized, and he was wasting resources he had no right to. We dug up his performance record and decided to take things a little deeper.”

  Jesus. “Where are the others?”

  “Just sent one of the guys to get them. You’re all free to go, as soon as we get statements from each of you and take some photographs of the damage he did to you just now.”

  The last thing I want to do is sit around here, talking to a bunch of cops about how one
of their own beat me up, but I know I don’t have a choice. Lawson is nothing if not thorough, and completely by the book, and this time, I can honestly say I’m grateful for that annoying little quality of his.

  The entire process takes another hour and a half. Answering the same goddamn questions, over and over again. Letting them poke and prod my ribs, and take pictures of the bruises already forming there and on my face.

  “You really should go to the hospital,” Lawson says.

  “I’m fine,” I growl. “I’ve had enough of bein’ around people pawin’ at me for one day. I’m goin’.”

  Whether out of self-preservation or annoyance, Lawson doesn’t argue. As I walk down the hall to where the other Kings are waiting, I pass a room and see Cam sitting at a table, filling out some paperwork of his own.

  I pause and take a step back, leaning against the door to the room. “You did good, Cam.”

  Cam’s pen stops moving and he glances up with a grin. “Of course I did.”

  I chuckle a little and shake my head. Cocky fucker.

  “I’m just glad this shit’s all over for you.” Cam lays his pen on the table and folds his arms over his chest. “You believe in karma, Lucas?”

  I frown. “Not sure I follow.”

  “Good things happen to good people. Bad things happen to bad people. You’re a good man, whether you think so or not. You deserve some good karma. I’m just doing my duty to make that happen, and maybe a little good karma will come my way too.”

  I shake my head a little and smirk. “So you were doing it for selfish reasons then.”

  He shrugs and picks his pen back up. “Somethin’ like that.”

  “You’re a good man to know, Cam.”

  He smirks again. “And don’t you forget it.”

  Anna

  The 911 operator is calm and soothing, but I don’t have time for that shit right now. I tell her the address and that my sister’s in labor, and that there’s a knife wielding crazed drug addict knocked out cold on the floor and hang up while she’s still asking questions.

  I watch her as I dial Ryker’s phone, but I don’t even get a chance to let it ring. Charlotte’s struggling with her pants, doing her best to yank them down when she screams my name. “Anna! He’s moving!” For a brief second, I think she’s talking about the baby, then I see Shiv roll to his back, his eyes struggling to open.

  “Shit!” I look around the room, but like most living rooms, there isn’t anything nearby that I could use to tie up a grown man. “Just a sec,” I say to Charlotte and turn, stumbling into the kitchen as I clutch my belly, where I can feel my wound starting to throb. Again, nothing.

  “Anna, you better hurry!” Charlotte’s breathing is fast and loud as she tries to keep calm with her contractions, practicing her Lamaze breathing techniques. Frantic, I search one last time and my eyes land on the cast iron skillet sitting in the drying rack.

  Snatching it up, I dart back to the living room just as Shiv is struggling to his hands and knees. Charlotte’s eyes meet mine, and the fear in them gives me the strength to do what I have to do. I lift the skillet high above me and bring it down on the back of his head with every ounce of strength I have in me.

  I cringe at the sickening crunch, and Shiv crumples to the floor, a lifeless puddle of wrinkled clothes and foul smelling flesh.

  “Oh, God,” Charlotte gasps. “It’s coming!”

  I hurry to where she’s laying and snatch a pillow from off the back of the couch, using it to prop her back up. “The ambulance is coming, Char. Just keep breathing, okay?”

  Charlotte’s eyes meet mine and determination takes the place of fear. “I’m not gonna last that long, Anna. This baby’s coming now.” She kicks off the last of her pants and cries out in pain as she gets herself into position.

  “No! Char, you can’t! I can’t! I have to call Ryker. He needs to be here. I don’t know how to do this. This baby… it’s not time yet.” Panic threatens to pull me under, and I’m on the verge of hyperventilating when Charlotte grabs my hands.

  “It’s too late. Ryker’s never gonna get here on time. You can do this, Anna. We can. Together.” She stares into my eyes, and my panic slowly trickles away, her own strength giving me what I need. “Now get between my legs. All you have to do is catch it, honey.”

  I don’t know if it’s because she’s a nurse, if it’s adrenaline, or if Charlotte is just a super hero, but her voice is calm, even through her deep breathing. I’ve seen plenty of women have babies on TV, and they’re always screaming and yelling, and breaking their men’s hand. That’s a whole lot different than having a panic attack, kneeling between the legs of my baby sister and listening to her calmly tell me what to do.

  I take a deep, semi-calming breath and force my eyes to look down. “Oh, God, Char. I can see the head.”

  “I know,” she gasps. “I gotta push, Anna. Get ready.” Charlotte’s face scrunches up with effort and turns a terrifying shade of red. She pushes for several seconds before taking a deep breath and bearing down again.

  Taking my gaze off her, I watch as every push she gives me, the baby’s head pokes out a little further, then a little further. “Keep going!” I cry, my hands out to catch it.

  It takes her several pushes until I’m able to see the blue-tinged, smooshed up, most adorable chubby little face I’ve ever seen in my entire life. Tears spring to my eyes, even as Charlotte lets out a wail loud enough to shake the windows.

  “The heads out,” I whisper.

  “Ok,” she gasps. “Now run your finger around the head and see if you feel a cord. We have to be sure it’s not wrapped around the baby’s neck.”

  I do as I’m told and feel nothing but the fluids and skin involved in this amazing process. “Nothing.”

  “Good,” she shouts as she gives another hard push, and then the baby is out.

  In my arms, I hold a squawking, shivering, beautiful, but tiny little baby. “It’s a boy,” I say through my tears. “You have a baby boy.”

  Reaper

  I enter the lobby of the police station expecting to find everyone relieved and happy to have this whole situation done and over with. I don’t expect to find Ryker pacing the floor, his phone at his ear and everyone else watching him with fear.

  “Fuck,” he growls, stuffing his phone back in his pocket. “Something’s not fuckin’ right, Jase. I can feel it.”

  “Just relax, Ryk. I’m sure she just has the ringer off or somethin’. It’ll be fine.”

  It takes another ten minutes before the police van pulls up out front, waiting for us to pile in. One by one, we run through the rain and climb in the back, ready to be taken back to the clubhouse. It feels strange getting in the back of a police vehicle of our own free will.

  As we drive, Ryker keeps calling Charlotte, cursing every time he doesn’t get an answer. He looks down to Bosco. “I’m gonna keep tryin’. You call Anna, and don’t stop till you get her.”

  I try not to let it bother me that it’s Bosco he expects to have Anna’s number on hand. I have her number. I’ve also fucked her, impregnated her, abandoned her, trash talked her, and made her feel like shit. God, I’m a dick.

  I watch Bosco as he dials her number and waits out the rings, but Anna doesn’t answer. Ryker’s distress is contagious, and now I’m worried too. Where are they? Neither one of those women go anywhere without their phones. It’s usually in their hands or to their ears.

  Lawson pulls the van to a stop and whips open the door. “Ryker, there’s trouble at your house. You wanna drive yourself or ride with me?” His words make my blood run cold.

  “What kind of trouble?” Ryker growls.

  “There was a 911 call from your home line about five minutes ago. An intruder and a pregnant woman in distress.”

  Ryker shoves past Lawson and runs straight for his motorcycle. The rest of us pile out and I hurry along behind him, along with Jase, Tease, and Bosco. Fucking Bosco.

  I like the guy. Before Anna came al
ong, I never had any issues with him at all. But the closeness the two of them share sets me on edge. Does he want her? Does she want him? I’ve certainly not done anything to insert myself in there lately. If anything, I’ve made it easier for their bond to grow.

  As a unit, we race out of the parking lot, heading straight for Ryker’s house. Lawson leads the charge in the police van, lights and sirens blaring. We blow through red lights and weave in and out of traffic, eventually catching up to an ambulance, just as we turn onto Ryker’s road.

  What if it’s Anna? What if it’s her that’s in distress? What if she loses our baby? I haven’t had the opportunity to tell her how badly I want it, how deeply I need her. How shitty I feel for the way I’ve been acting.

  Several other police vehicles are positioned around the house, and we get there just as they kick open the door. My heart sinks. Why did no one answer the door?

  Ryker and I both charge toward the house, only to be blocked by several officers. “Sir, you can’t go in there,” one of them says, shoving me back.

  “Fuck that,” Ryker growls. “That’s my wife in there.” His fist comes up and he lands a punch to the one cop’s jaw. He drops like a stone, and Ryker’s shoving past.

  “You wanna be next?” I say to the man in front of me.

  “Fuckin’ bikers,” he mumbles, stepping aside and waving his hands toward the door like Vanna White.

  When I enter the house, the amount of blood I see takes my breath away. I hear the police in the living room, yelling at someone, and Ryker has already disappeared into the room. I take the few steps until I reach the doorway, and when I do, my heart stops.

  Shiv is bloody and broken, barely conscious as the police cuff him and yank him to his feet. Charlotte is on the floor, the tiniest baby in the world in her arms, her pants gone and blood splashed on the floor between her legs.