9. Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
Reaper
Wrenley called a meeting, again. Everyone’s crammed into the living room as if a goddamn intervention is about to take place.
Torque is perched on the arm of the couch, Margot and Riot are tangled together on the floor, Elias is pacing with a coffee he hasn’t finished, and Wrecker’s stress-eating something that smells like burnt toast. Doc’s here too, leaning against the far wall like she’s one of us.
Max and I stand behind Wrenley as she faces the group, hands clasped in front of her like she’s about to deliver a eulogy. I glance at Doc, then at Wrenley. “Doc’s here. You okay?”
She nods quickly, too quickly. “Yeah. I’m good. But um…okay, wow. How do I say this?”
Elias chuckles under his breath. “When has that ever stopped you?”
Wreckers raises his hand like a kid in class. “Already on board.”
Torque glares. “That’s because you’re terrified of her.”
“Damn right I am.” He responds.
Riot snorts. “She’s five-three, bro.”
“Shut up, you saw her snap that guy's neck without blinking, you’re scared too.”
Riot opens his mouth, then shuts it. Fair enough.
The tension bleeds out of the room in a wave of laughter. Even Doc smirks.
Max smiles, “Yeah, we’re all afraid of her. We know it. Now, Sparrow, what’s going on?” Wrenley looks at me, straight through me actually, and something tightens in my chest.
“I want everyone to get subdermal trackers implanted.” She says. “Doc’s here to do it clean.”
Silence. Max raises an eyebrow. Margot gasps. Riot coughs like something is stuck in his throat.
“Why?” I ask gently. “Little warrior?”
She swallows. “You all remember what it was like when we couldn’t find Max. When we thought…” her voice breaks off, but she doesn’t cry. Not this time. “I don’t want that to happen again. To any of us.”
My jaw tightens. I remember the way she shattered back then, like glass cracking from the inside. I thought she would never put herself back together again.
I take a breath. “Then we do it. All of us. I don’t ever want to see you break like that again.”
Max nods beside me. “Agreed.”
Riot groans but shrugs. “Fine. This is how I wanted to start my morning, with a scalpel to the neck.”
Doc sighs. “Small-ish needle, no scalpel.”
Torque mutters something about being microchipped like a fucking pet, but no one protests.
Wrenley lets out a long breath, then gestures to Doc. “Okay, Kitchen’s prepped. Doc will take you one at a time.”
Elias snorts. “Unlike Margot and Wrenley.”
Margot glances sideways at him. “Keep it up, and I’ll go back to one at a time.”
That makes Elias stop talking faster than I’ve ever seen.
One by one, we move. Wrenley squeezes my hand before I go. I watch her as I sit down for the procedure. She’s standing taller now, steadier. Like knowing we’re all protected gives her the one thing she never really had growing up. Control. I'll gladly give her that, gladly.
It’s quick, base of the neck, just under the skin. Barely a sting, it’s nothing compared to what we’ve all survived. Hell, I’d let her carve the damn thing in herself if it meant she could sleep at night.
I catch Wrenley talking quietly with Torque and Doc in the corner of the room. Whatever it is, her expression is serious, lips tight, eyes hard. Torque is nodding slowly, arms crossed over his chest, while he just listens all clinical calm. I make a note to ask her about that later.
Hugo lifts his head from Wrenley’s feet and lets out a low growl. Everyone tenses, eyes swinging toward the door. I’m already half way there when a sharp knock sounds.
I open the front door to find Donnie standing on the porch, still in his Black Crown security shirt, looking like he sprinted here. He lifts a plain manila envelope between his fingers like it’s something dirty.
“Hey, boss. Just finished my shift at the Crown. This was dropped off by a courier. Asked for Wrenley by name.” he says handing it over.
I nod, taking the envelope. “Who’s on duty now?”
“Cash,” Donnie replies.
“Keep your phone close.”
“Yes sir.” He dips his chin and disappears down the path.
I shut the door and turn, the weight of the envelope heavy as lead in my hand. Wrenley sees it immediately and goes still. Rigid.
Her eyes meet mine across the room. “Read it,” she says, voice flat.
I step into the living room and break the seal.
Inside is a folded piece of thick, ivory stationery. The handwriting is neat, precise, and practiced. It makes my skin crawl.
Wrenley,
I think it’s time we meet, don’t you? River Oaks Greenhouse. 3 p.m.
Come alone.
I have a proposition for you. This could be the start of a beautiful relationship.
-S.M.
Relationship. Fuck. My blood turns to ice. I hand her the note without a word, but I can already see the storm brewing in her eyes.
Max is at her side in seconds, reading it over her shoulder. “They wants you to go alone? That’s not happening.”
“I know,” she says. “But we can’t storm in either. This is all a little too planned. We have to be smart about this.”
“We’re not sending you in unguarded.” I look at her like she’s already halfway in a sniper scope.
“We won’t” she assures me. “We run it like every other operation. We don’t react. We dictate.”
Her voice is steady, but I can feel the tremor underneath.
“Walk me through it,” I say.
She does. Calm. Tactical. A fucking general.
Max will drive her in. Hugo goes with her, no argument there.
That dog would throw himself in front of a bullet if it meant keeping her alive.
Elias and Margot will be set up in a black van, tapped into the greenhouse’s camera systems, hacking into every available angle.
Margot’s got the brains and Elias has the reflexes.
Torque and Wrecker will be staged nearby in street clothes, hidden in the surrounding buildings, watching the perimeter.
On comms, weapons hot. I’ll be up high. On a nearby rooftop with Riot posted beside me.
My rifle will be trained on that greenhouse door, before Wrenley ever walks through it.
Riot will be my second set of eyes, calling out anything I miss. Which won’t be much.
We’ll give this fucker his meeting. But if he even thinks about touching her? He dies.
Wrenley opens the velvet box that Elias hands her. Inside is a delicate brooch that doubles as a hidden pin camera, tech courtesy of Elias. “This’ll link to our feed,” he says.
“And the comm?” I ask.
Max pulls a slim piece from his pocket. “Right here. Looks like jewelry. One tap to transmit, double tap for silent alarm.”
Wrenley takes them both with steady hands, then looks at all of us like we’re her army.
Because she’s our queen, and we are. She nods once. “Let’s go see who thinks they're brave enough to call out the Serpents.”
Max slows to a stop outside the greenhouse, the SUV idling at the curb like it’s holding its breath.
From my perch across the street, high in the shadows of an old stone building, I watch through the scope as Wrenley climbs out of the backseat.
She’s all black leather and calm fury, her hair braided tight, her walk purposeful.
Hugo follows at her heel, tail straight, eyes sharp. He knows. That dog always knows.
Before she closes the door, she leans in. Her voice is low but comes through the comms crystal clear.
“I love you, Maximilian. Whatever happens in there, remember that.”
Max’s jaw flexes. “I love you too, Sparrow. I’ll be waiting right here.”
She nods once and shuts the door.
She walks forward, slow, steady, then pauses at the threshold of the greenhouse. The light filters through the warped glass panes, casting her in fractured sunlight like stained glass. She turns her head just slightly, looking up.
Right where I am. Her voice comes through my ear piece, quieter than before but stronger too.
“Liam,” she says. “Don’t be twitchy. But if he so much as looks at me sideways… you drop him.”
Then, after a breath, soft as smoke but burning through me like wildfire.
“I love you.”
It sucker-punches me.
She’s never said it to me before. Not like that. Not outside of heat and chaos. Not with all this weight wrapped around it.
My fingers tighten on the grip of my rifle. What I want to do is tear down this fire escape, grab her, and take her somewhere no one else can touch her, kiss that vow off her lips, and do things to her that aren’t legal in public or private. I breathe through it. Focus.
“I love you too, little warrior,” I say, steady and sharp as a blade drawn in the dark.
She smiles. Then she walks through the door and into the lion's den. I swear to God, if this motherfucker even blinks wrong, I’m sending a bullet through their eye socket and into whatever rotted brain they've got left.