Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Parker
The bedroom smells like freshly baked pastries and I’m here for it. The coffee I couldn’t care less for, but the tea? Oh, yes. It’s obvious that Sabrina has been making it for a while because she has it spot on.
I sign the words ‘thank you’ before she leaves, grateful that it’s the same in ASL as it is in BSL because I don’t particularly want to offend the amazing tea fairy.
Even though she isn’t actually deaf, Grinder explained that she has never spoken and prefers to do so with sign language.
One of the clubs The Butcher looks after in the UK is run by a deaf lady, and I learned a few things to better communicate whenever I was sent in as security.
“Right, get that scran down ya neck, we got shit to do.” I gesture toward the tray of goodies on the dresser and bounce to the other side of the room. My knee still twinges, but I’ve had worse and the strap I’m wearing is helping.
“If scran is food, then I’m not really hungry.” Spencer picks up a circular pastry, turning it over in his hand a few times before putting it down again with a sigh.
After our little outing for supplies yesterday—that are neatly tucked away in my new backpack—Spencer took me to Maribel’s to pick up some clothes, then we stopped by his house and grabbed Pepper, the cat. Because apparently, now we have a cat.
As I dress, I don’t take my eyes off him. Pepper is curled up beside him on the bed, which I’ve been told is unusual, and I don’t doubt it because I swear that cat is planning on murdering me in my sleep. I was surprised to wake up this morning with my eyeballs still intact.
Finally clothed, my trousers are tight and black, my boots hard and heavy, and my T-shirt…well, it’s Grinder’s. Makes me feel close to him. I flop down onto the bed beside Spencer with my cup of tea in hand.
“I’ve been thinking…” I don’t bother turning my head to look at him. Instead, I take a long pause and sip my tea with the beautiful sound of revving motorcycle engines as a backdrop from outside.
“That’s dangerous.” He huffs a laugh and I can feel his eyes on me.
“And that’s rude.” I nudge his shoulder and chuckle, backing off a little when Pepper lifts his head to peer at me from his slumber. “Should we tell someone about our plan?”
“Fucking finally.” Falling backward on the bed dramatically, he groans and it sounds a lot like relief. “You women and your secrets are gonna be the death of me.” He glares at me, but he’s smirking and I poke my tongue out.
“At least we all know you’re a super secret keeper. But also…women, plural? What other secrets are you keeping?” My interest is piqued.
Sitting up, he finally grabs a pastry and begins picking it apart to eat.
“The whole thing with Mac faking her death and torturing her brother was a biggy.” He nods as though remembering our conversation last night.
“Aaaand…?”
He glares at me with raised brows and lifts his chin. “I wouldn’t be a super secret keeper if I told you that.”
“Dammit. I wanna push you for more but I respect the hell out of it too.” I give him my best evil eye to show my dissatisfaction and he laughs.
This is all a happy distraction to our real issue. Grinder is missing. Not just missing, but taken.
And it’s all my fucking fault. Because I can’t keep my gob shut or my stabby hands to myself. I mean, the stupid cunt who got jealous of her bodyguard and tried to stab me didn’t help, but she’s mush now and, apparently, daddy dearest isn’t.
According to The Butcher’s intel, Viktor O’Malley isn’t at the tippety top of the knobcheese food chain, but he isn’t a grunt either.
Surprisingly, he’s a preacher. One of many who work for The Fellowship of Eternal Dawn.
Basically, a fucking cult. And they’ve been expanding their reach around Rockford Beach, gradually getting closer, over the last couple of years.
The females are the epitome Stepford Wives and their babies come from kidnapped women that the men enjoy raping, so yeah…destroying one of their little compounds a few days ago isn’t a travesty.
Viktor’s beef with me stems from the fact that I damaged some of his men while they were supposed to be watching his daughter—who definitely shouldn’t have been at a club but I don’t know how this cult operates so I really don’t give a fuck why she was there.
Now, though, there’s a price on my head for capture so her daddy dearest can turn me into a breeder. Allegedly.
A knock on the door pulls me from my musings and I stand to open it.
“Brother!” Leaping into Sledge, I wrap my arms around him and squeeze, but when he physically winces, I pull back, taking in the new bruise on his cheek and the way he’s favoring his left side. “Who hurt you and are they already dead?”
“We have mutual friends, little sis.” He raises his brows. “Just got back from a stakeout that went a little sideways.” He shrugs, one hand casually in the pocket of his jeans as he smirks.
I narrow my eyes and pout, shoving my hands on my hips.
“What do you know?” The Butcher wouldn’t rat me out, but fuck. Maybe I underestimated the Reaper connection thing.
“Never thought I’d say this while standing outside Grinder’s door but…let me in. I need to sit down and Sabrina told me you have tea in there.”
I step to the side and hold out my arm with a dramatic curtsey worthy of the best jesters. “Enter at your own risk. Mwahahaha. But really…what do you know? And how?” I don’t exactly have a plethora of friends, more like acquaintances, and they’re mostly all across the pond.
“Alright, Spence.” Sledge tilts his head and gives Spencer a wink before sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room. “What was your plan, Sis?” His attention is now solely on me. Judging.
I frown.
“I asked you first.” I close the door and take my position back beside Spencer and Pepper on the bed.
“Then we’re at an impasse." Shrugging, he relaxes into the chair, not a care in the world.
I can feel Spencer’s gaze burning a hole into the side of my head and I have a huge urge to push him over.
But for one, Pepper would claw my face off, and two, I know he’s trying to keep his mouth shut about our little Get-Grinder-Back secret plan.
Sledge is my brother, and I should be the one to say the words.
“Ugh.” Rolling my eyes, I flop back onto the bed and stare at the ceiling. I’m not sure I can handle the disappointment in Sledge’s face when he hears what I have to say. “I called The Butcher.”
“I know.”
“What the fuck.” I shoot up, my eyes wide as I try my hardest not to roll them. I definitely underestimated the Reaper connection.
“The Sons are friends with The Reapers, Marco Mancini…” He waits for me to fill in the very obvious blank.
“Fuck sake. Yeah yeah, I get it. The Butcher’s wife is Mancini’s sister and someone couldn’t keep their fucking gob shut.”
“Bingo. But, officially, nobody dobbed you in. Gobs were kept shut, but we already had our feelers out with The Reapers, which you know, so we all got the same information. Including the little pick-up you did yesterday afternoon because, surprise, lil sis, The Butcher uses his connections with the Reapers for intel and trades when in the U.S. The Reapers just assumed you were working with us…not going rogue.” Raising both eyebrows, he casually leans forward and grabs a pastry from the tray.
Rolling my head back, I groan, loudly, before fixing my gaze back on my brother.
“We were gonna tell you. I realized I was being that dumb cunt who goes off with a half-cocked plan. I’m good, but I also don’t wanna die, and I certainly don’t wanna make Spenny die.
Grinder would make me wear a strap-on to compensate, and while I don’t mind, it isn’t my favorite thing to do.
” I could go on, but the bewilderment combined with amusement in Sledge’s face makes me stop. Probably—definitely—TMI.
“You were gonna tell me?” His smirk doesn’t falter.
“Before we get into a whole thing, I can back her up on that. As of about fifteen minutes ago, the new plan was to tell you guys what we know.”
Sledge’s grin and slight eyebrow raise as he nods makes me think he actually believes me this time.
“I got the weapons because I wanted to go in there like a lady John Wick and fuck shit up. After sleeping on it, I know I can’t do it alone.
So now you know. Time to answer my question.
But wait…” I hold my finger up to stop him when he goes to speak.
“I wanna revise my question because you seem to know what I know. So…where was this stakeout?”
Chuckling, Sledge shakes his head.
“We split into three teams, one for each of the three known locations. Because we wanna go at this full fuckin’ throttle, guns blazin’, we need to know where they have Grinder and Kincaid.
” He holds my gaze and makes sure I’m paying attention.
“Because if we had run into just one of them and blown shit up, we’d alert the others, putting our club brother and sister in more danger. ”
“Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re sayin’.” I huff. He makes perfect sense, and this is exactly why I should sleep on big decisions. “I can’t believe you went without me.” I sigh and ignore the chuckles from both of the males in the room. “Did you find the one they’re at?”
The three locations The Butcher gave me are relatively close to Rockford Beach. There’s a gated community in the next town over, Beauville, and down toward Myrtle Beach there’s another gated community and a huge fuck-off mansion.
Leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, Sledge grins. Slow and dangerous.
“Of course we fucking did. I came to see if you wanna come fuck some shit up.”
“Yes!” I jump up and clap my hands before turning to give my brother a serious look. “We should come up with a code word for ‘get the fuck down and take cover’ because I have a couple of grenades and I fully intend to use them.”