Chapter Seven
Safe House
Reaper
My cell rings. It’s Jock.
“Hey, Boss.”
“Get your ass here now.” His voice is snarly. Something is wrong.
“What?” I look at Scarlet. She is sleeping on the sofa next to me. “Why? I’m needed here.”
“The Hyenas have thrown us a message.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“In the form of a bomb.”
“Jesus.” I spring up and rake my hands through my hair. That’s more wrong than I was expecting. “What’s the damage?”
“We’ve got a dead brother.”
My heart squeezes. “What? I’ll gut the lot of them.” A coldness creeps over my skin and I grit my teeth. “Who?”
“Belly. He was at the gate when they threw a Molotov over. Took him by surprise. Sons of bitches.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. Belly had been a good guy. Loyal and smart and with a fondness for pepperoni pizza which showed.
“They think they’ve sent us a message,” Jock goes on, “well, I’ll fucking tell you, Reaper, they’ve just poked the bear. We need to plan our revenge. This is goddamn war. All-out war.”
“Too right it is.”
“And as VP I need you back here. We’ve got to vote on it.” Jock’s voice is stern.
“You sure it was them?”
“As sure as I know I’ve got a goddamn dick between my legs.”
I pause and step farther away from Scarlet. “The safe house is safe but still, we’ve got two women here. One is on the Hyenas most wanted list, and the other an innocent doctor.”
“Ah, the redheaded beauty,” Jock scoffs. “I told you, keep your head in the damn game, Reaper. Don’t get distracted by pussy.”
“My head is in the game. She’s an innocent.” And she was so much more than a pretty face but I kept that thought to myself. “We dragged her into this so she has to be protected. We agreed on that.”
“The women will survive for a couple of hours on their own. The safe house hasn’t been compromised. No one has ever found out we even own it. Get back here or you’ll be on my most wanted list.”
My cell goes quiet. End of discussion.
I have a real bad feeling. A gut-twisting instinct I’m struggling to ignore. And I’m really fucking pissed at losing Belly, long may he ride in peace.
I don’t want to leave Scarlet. But my loyalty is to my president and the Sons of Sin.
“Fuck it.”
“What’s going on?” she asks, standing and straightening her clothes.
“I have to go.”
“What?” Her eyes widen. “Where?”
“To the club. But not for long. I promise.”
“You said you were staying here. With me.”
“It can’t be helped.”
Her eyes widen and she gestures to the door. “But what about the Hyenas?”
“That’s why I have to go to the club. They’ve bombed the place. Killed one of my club brothers, goddamn sons of bitches.”
She snaps her hand over her mouth. “What? That’s terrible.”
“Tell me about it.” I drag on my t-shirt and then my cut. “Jock has called an emergency meeting. We need to sort these assholes out once and for all. They’ve gone too far this time. They’ve attacked our home turf.”
She nods though her skin has paled and she’s knotted her hands together under her chin.
“Scarlet.” I rest my hands on her shoulders. “I promise, no one knows you are here. Lock all the doors, keep the windows closed, and wait inside. I’ll leave you a gun.”
“I have no idea how to shoot?” She shakes her head. “I never have.”
“Just point and pull the trigger at anything that’s a threat. You’ll soon get the hang of it.”
“A threat?” She goes to the window and looks out.
I step up close, molding my body to hers. I kiss her neck. “You’re strong, I know you are. And you can do this.”
She rests back against me. “I don’t want to do it without you. I don’t want to be here without you.”
Damn it. There’s that gut twist again. I don’t want to leave her. Just thinking about it is painful. It goes against everything I am.
But what choice do I have? I’m also a VP and I take that role in life seriously. I have to go.
“I’m sorry.” I close my eyes. “It’s the way it is for me. My president calls, I have to follow orders.”
“It’s okay.”
She turns and I embrace her. Push her hair over her shoulders and breathe in the scent of her.
“I understand,” she says, “And Consuela is sleeping so there’s nothing to do here.”
“I can think of a few more things we can do when I get back.”
Her cheeks rouge a little. “I don’t know what you mean.”
I laugh. Her coyness is funny when I know full well a woman of passion lurks within.
I release her, scribble my phone number on a scrap of paper, and pass it to her. “You call me, you hear? You need me, call, I’m not that far away.”
She nods, though there is fear in her eyes.
After kissing her brow, I grab my helmet and keys. “Lock the door after me. Don’t let anyone in.”
I rev my bike and grip the handlebars so tight my knuckles pale. Driving away from Scarlet might be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I stop at the truck and wave Tank and Ghost over.
“We have to go to the clubhouse,” I snap.
Maybe I should stay, I think.
“What? Why?” Tank says. Blood has seeped through the bandage on his arm. He doesn’t appear to have noticed.
“Fucking Hyenas have sent us a message.” My jaw tenses.
Ghost frowns then spits tobacco onto the ground. “Oh, yeah?”
“Belly’s dead.”
“What?” Ghost’s head jerks up.
Tank steps back as though physically punched. “You’re shitting me?”
“’Fraid not. They threw a Molotov, apparently, and it hit him.”
“This is goddamn war.” Ghost grimaces. “I won’t stop until they’re all six feet under. Belly’s death means vengeance and retribution.”
“I agree.”
The two men shove their weapons into their belts and climb onto their bikes. As the roar of engines fills my ears, I know I have no choice but to go with my club brothers.
The safe house is safe. That is why it’s called a fucking safe house.
Ten minutes later we are pulling into the clubhouse lot. There are scorch marks on the ground and up the fence. An old van took the heat too, its windows blown and one tire melted.
Poor fucking Belly. Not a good way to go.
Faces are serious and dour as I make my way to the meeting room, my shoulders swinging and my limbs aching with the tension of revenge.
Jock is at the head of the table with his fingers spread on the surface.
I scrape out the chair next to him, sit with a bang, slap my phone and keys down, then check out my fellow bikers one by one, making eye contact.
“We are one,” I say. “We live and breathe as one. We live and die as one. We will find whoever is responsible for Belly’s death and slit him throat to cock so he can watch his guts spill onto the floor. ”
“Too damn right,” Tank says.
Felon, our Enforcer, slams his fist into his palm. “An eye for an eye. That’s what I say.”
“That’s what we all say.” Jock leans forward. “They’ve pushed too far. Dealing on our turf, using innocents as mules, ambushing us, and now targeting our clubhouse. There’s no going back. All in favor of war? Show of hands.”
All eight hands at the table shoot up. It was a no-brainer. Our mortal enemies had to be brought down. If we let them take an inch they’d take a mile.
“Years ago,” Jock says, “two of our founding brothers made a decision never to be owned by the cartels because it equals chains around our necks. We will not bend the knee to their Columbian empire. Not today. Not ever. No matter what they throw at us, literally.” He smacks his cut, over his heart.
“Sons of Sin answer to no one and we’re not going to start now. ”
A guttural round of agreements fills the room.
“Belly will have his goodbyes, and we’ll mourn a loyal brother, but first...”
“We kill these sons of bitches,” I say.
A gruff cheer.
“We got any intel?” Tank asks. “Where we gonna find them?”
“Yeah,” Ghost says, “we paced all night thinking they might show at the safe house, but nothing.”
“They won’t, it’s safe there.” Jock huffs. “They don’t even know it exists and we’ll keep it that way. Place has come in handy over the years.” He looks at me. “Don’t you agree, Reaper? Real handy.”
My top lip curls and I look away, irritated by his insinuation. He knows nothing. “We need a plan. Last I heard they had a place over at Five Points. Some old warehouse. Shithole.”
“How long ago was that?” Tank asks.
I shrug. “Six months. Likely they’ve ditched it by now.”
“Yeah, they move around. But we’ll check it out first.” Jock looks at the door. “Where’s Yan? He lives over there.”
Yan was a new prospect. He’d yet to earn any badges or any of my respect. He had shifty eyes and a large scar on his arm that so far had two different stories.
“He left,” Felon says, “last night?”
“He left last night?” I frown. “Why? It was all-hands-on-deck here.”
“Kid has a thing for coke.” Felon shakes his head. “Tries to hide it but the signs are there.”
Jock clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “Shit, really? Well, that’s a problem for another day.”
My phone rings. Unknown number. I flick it to “silent” and turn it over. It rings for a moment then stops. Rings again.
“Fucking thing.” I mutter at it.
Jock frowns.
It goes quiet for a second then rings again.
I pick it up. Hit “answer.”
“What?”
“Reaper. It’s me.”
“Fuck!” I stand so quickly my chair tips over and clatters onto the floor. “Scarlet. What’s up?”
“They’re here ... or I think they are.”
“Who is there?” I hit “speaker” and set the phone on the table.
“Four big bikes have just pulled up. They don’t look like yours, they’ve got snarling dogs on their exhausts and...”
“What?” I say. A huge gaping hole of fear opens up inside me. It’s like falling even though my boots are flat on the ground.
“I think it’s the Hyenas,” she says shakily.
“It might not be.” I clench my jaw as a pain shoots up my shoulders and neck. I know damn well it is.
“Who the fuck else could it be?” Jock rumbles and jumps up. “Come on. We gotta go.”
“Fuck, I’m so scared. Reaper, please ... come back...”
“I’m already on my way.” I grab my phone and rush from the office. “Find somewhere to hide. And shoot anyone that comes into the house.”
“But Consuela...?”
“Wake her up. Go. Go get her. Hide in the wardrobe together or...”