Reaper (Jagged Saints MC #1)

Chapter 2

2

SANDY

P laying bait for the River Kings wasn't exactly how I planned to see Reaper again after five years.Then again, nothing about this operation is going according to plan.Especially not the way my heart still skips when he takes control of his convoy with those stupid yet confident hand signals and measured authority.

He's grown into the man I always knew he could be.Not that I'll tell him that. His ego's big enough already.

"They took the bait," I murmur into my concealed comm, watching the Kings disappear into the desert."Moving to phase two."

"Copy that, Agent Mitchell." Handler's voice crackles in my ear, almost lost under the rumble of bikes."Remember, we need concrete evidence before moving in, if things go south, focus on the weapons.Stay close to the Saints. You’re in the King’s territory, if they catch wind of this before we do this, it’ll turn into an all-out war."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes.Five years undercover with the Devil's Wings, working my way up from prospect's old lady to trusted treasurer, and they still treat me like a rookie.At least the Wings know my worth, even if they don't know my real purpose.

Reaper's watching me with that intense focus that used to make me feel like the only woman in the world.Still does, if I'm honest. But I didn't come here to rehash old feelings.I'm here to stop a war before it starts, even if that means using our past to get close to the information I need.

"Meeting in ten!" His voice carries across the lot, all business now.Good. Let him think I'm just another complication from his past.It'll make my job easier if he keeps his distance.

The motel parking lot fills with leather and chrome as both crews settle in for the night.I recognize most of the Saints from five years ago, Timer with his silver beard, Doc still carrying that medical bag, Tank watching everyone like the VP he's apparently become.They eye me with varying degrees of suspicion, probably remembering how thoroughly I shattered their Road Captain's heart.

If they only knew the whole story.

"Agent Mitchell." Handler's voice interrupts my thoughts."We've got movement at the compound.Looks like the Kings are mobilizing."

Shit. "Copy that. I'll find out what's in play."

Killing my comm, I grab my saddlebags and head for the motel office.The elderly clerk barely glances up from her romance novel as she hands over a key, too used to bikers to care about another leather-clad woman asking for a room.

"One room left," she drawls, attention already back on her book."Lucky you got it before that nice doctor fellow came asking."

I hide my smile. Doc's always been the favorite among civilians, probably because he actually bothers with manners.Unlike certain Road Captains who think brooding silence counts as conversation.

Speaking of brooding...

"Looks like we're roommates." Reaper's voice carries that dangerous edge that used to make my knees weak.Still does, but I'm better at hiding it now."Unless you'd rather sleep with your bike."

"Wouldn't be the first time." I turn, finding him closer than expected.Close enough to see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes, to catch the familiar scent of leather and mountain air that haunts my dreams."But I suppose I can tolerate your snoring for one night."

"I don't snore."

"Keep telling yourself that, Road Captain."

His jaw ticks at the title. Good to know I can still get under his skin as easily as he gets under mine.Though from the way his eyes darken as they track my movements, I'm not the only one affected by this situation.

"You've changed," he says quietly, following me down the dimly lit hallway.Heavy silence falls between us.

"Had to." I unlock our door, deliberately keeping my voice light."Club princess wasn't exactly a career path."

The room is exactly what you'd expect from a desert motel.There's faded wallpaper, a worn carpet, and one double bed that suddenly feels very small.A cheap print of cowboys hangs crooked on one wall, like even the decorations are trying to escape this place.

Reaper drops his bags by the bathroom door, already scanning exits and sightlines.Some habits never change. "Treasurer's quite a jump from princess."

"Earned every patch." I kick off my boots, trying not to remember how many laws I broke proving myself worthy of the Wings' trust.How many times I compromised my badge to maintain my cover."Unlike some people, I don't coast on daddy's reputation."

The low blow lands exactly as intended.Anger flashes in his eyes, quickly masked by that infuriating control he's apparently mastered."You always did know exactly where to stick the knife."

"And you always did know how to piss me off." I step closer, invading his space like I own it.Like my pulse isn't racing from his proximity."Tell me something, Reaper. Do they know you questioned Ranch's every move before he made you Road Captain?Or did you finally learn to follow orders without arguing?"

"You don't know shit about who I am now." His voice drops lower, dangerous."Five years is a long time, Sandy.Or should I say, Rebel?"

"Seemingly long enough to grow up." I tilt my chin, meeting his heated gaze."Also, long enough to learn what I want and how to take it."

"Yeah?" He moves faster than I remember, backing me against the wall.One hand braces beside my head while the other settles on my hip, thumb brushing the strip of skin exposed by my riding crop top."And what is it you want, Rebel?"

My new nickname on his lips sends shivers down my spine.This close, I can feel the heat radiating off his body, see the pulse jumping in his throat.All I'd have to do is lean forward...

My burner buzzes, shattering the moment.Handler's code flashes on the screen.

"Saved by the bell." Reaper steps back, that iron control sliding back into place."Get cleaned up first if you want.I need to check in with the crew anyway."

I wait until the door clicks shut behind him before answering."Report."

"Kings are definitely moving weapons tonight." Handler sounds tense."We need eyes on that exchange."

"I'll handle it." I'm already planning routes, timing, excuses."Give me two hours."

"Be careful, Mitchell. Your cover--"

"Is solid." I cut him off, stripping off my dusty clothes."I know what I'm doing."

Ending the call, I step into the shower and let hot water sluice away road grime and tension.All those years of hard work, building trust, and gathering intel all come down to the next few days.I can't let old feelings complicate things now.

My eyes slam shut, visions of Reaper's heated gaze filling my memory.So much so that I can still feel the phantom press of his hand on my hip.

"I need to fucking get it together," I mutter, turning the water to cold."I've got a job to do."

By the time I emerge, wrapped in a towel because, of course, I forgot clean clothes in my bag, Reaper's back.He's stretched out on the bed, boots off but still fully dressed, looking like every fantasy I've denied myself for five years.

His eyes darken as they track water droplets running down my neck."Trying to kill me, Rebel?"

"Not yet." I grab clothes from my bag, ignoring how his gaze burns against my skin."Save that for when you start snoring."

"Still not funny." But his lips twitch."Meeting's in twenty. Timer's bringing food."

I dig out my favorite sleep shirt--an old Jagged Saints one I definitely didn't steal from him years ago.His sharp intake of breath when he recognizes it makes the risk worth it.

"That's mine."

"Was yours." I drop the towel, glad I remembered to put on underwear in the bathroom.The shirt falls to mid-thigh, well within decent range, but from his strangled growl, you'd think I was giving him a strip show."Possession is nine-tenths of the law, Road Captain."

"This is a dangerous game you're playing." His voice is rough andheated."If you continue on this route make damned sure you can handle theconsequences."

I meet his eyes in the mirror as I brush out myhair."I always did like playing withfire."

"Yeah." He stands, moving behindme.Close enough that I feel his breath on my neck but not quitetouching."That's what scared me most aboutyou."

The admission hangs between us, heavy withimplications.Before I can respond, someone pounds on ourdoor.

"Food's here!" Timer's voice breaks thespell."Put some clothes on and getdecent!"

Reaper steps back, that carefully constructed wall sliding back intoplace."Weshould..."

"Yeah." I pull on sleep shorts, trying to slow my racingheart."Can't keep the crewwaiting."

I follow him out to face whatever chaos tonight brings, his frequent glances over his shoulder making it clear I'm not the only one still haunted by what welost. The familiar thought ofwhat might have been if I'd told him the truth five yearsago lingers at the forefront of my mind, but I shove it back. I'm not here for all this. I have one job.

Right. Stop a weapons deal. Prevent a clubwar.Don't fall back in love with the one man who could blow my cover wideopen.

Simple.

I am so screwed.