Devil's Game(71)

Take care, Em



I dropped the note and strode over to the window, pushing it open and looking outside.

Nothing.

Fuck. FUCK.

Then I clenched the windowsill until my knuckles turned white, trying to decide the best way to kill Skid. It came to me. I’d beat him to death. Immediately. I found him down in the kitchen, locked in a glaring match with Kelsey. Without a word, I spun him around and punched him in the face.

He staggered and I punched him again, sending him into the fridge with a crash. The top was lined with bottles of hard liquor, and they started falling like dominoes. Some bounced on the painted wooden floorboards and others shattered.

The raw stench of alcohol filled the kitchen.

“What the hell did you do?” I yelled at him. “Who I screw is my business! Not yours. Not the club’s. You stay the f*ck out of my life, brother.”

He held up his hands, clearly not wanting a fight. Tough shit. I jerked him to his feet and hit him again. Blood spurted from his nose, and I saw—reflected in his eyes—the instant he decided to start fighting back.

I’m not sure how long it lasted.

What I do know is that we tumbled off the back porch, through the shrubs, and onto the lawn all without losing a beat. By the time it ended, Clutch, Grass, Kelsey, and several random women left over from the party were all standing on the back porch watching.

Pretty sure Clutch and Grass were taking bets.

I decided the winner owed me drinks, because I’d kicked Skid’s ass … But by the time I had him knocked out and helpless in the dirt, my brain had started working again. I glanced up at our audience and frowned, staggering slightly. He’d gotten in some pretty good hits. My head was spinning—I figured there was a decent chance I had a concussion.

“Go away,” I growled. “This is private.”

Grass herded them back in, although Kelsey tried to insist on staying outside. He ended the argument by picking her up and carrying her while she rewarded him with a flurry of head smacks from the spatula.

I collapsed to the ground, staring blankly up at the clouded sky.

“You okay?” I asked Skid. He rolled over, moaning.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I had to do it, bro.”

“You didn’t have to do shit.”

“She’s no good for you,” he said. “She’s not some little puppet you can control. She lied for you to her own club, which is f*ckin’ romantic until you consider that same loyalty is attached to the Reapers, too. You’d never be able to trust her, brother. And if you did, we’d never be able to trust you.”

“Still not your decision to make,” I said slowly. “So you figured it out, I guess?”

“Phone records,” he said shortly. “Don’t worry. Won’t show ’em to anyone. Figure I owe her that much, given that she saved your sorry ass. But seriously—elections are coming, and unless you want to pull out, you can’t be with her.”

“That’s my problem,” I told him.

“No, it’s a club problem,” Skid said seriously. “Burke needs a right-hand man he can trust, and we all know it’s you. But I’m your right hand, bro. It’s my job to make sure your head’s in the game. Right now it isn’t.”

I flipped him off, draping my arm over my eyes.

“Nobody knows about that phone call,” I said. “It’s not an issue.”

“I know about the phone call,” Skid replied, his voice quiet without compromise. “And the day it puts our club in danger is the day I’ll stop guarding her secret. It’s not personal, brother. I don’t actually dislike the chick, despite what you might think. But I can’t let her get too close to you.”

I sighed. Fuck.

“This isn’t over,” I told him. “I’m not giving up on her.”

“You giving up the national office?” Skid asked. “Think carefully, bro. You can only have one or the other.”

I didn’t reply—I’d spent the last eight years working to prove myself, to show Burke I was the man he could count on in a fight. I wasn’t ready to give up all I’d earned.

Shit. Skid was right.

I had a problem.





Chapter Eleven



ONE WEEK LATER

EM


I couldn’t breathe.

Something heavy crushed my chest, pressing down on my lungs. Something evil, I realized. A demon hungry for my soul? I hovered in that dark space between sleep and wakefulness, terrified as my worst dreams came to life.