Devil's Game (Reapers MC, #3)(73)

Dickwad came damned close to getting shot.

When we pulled up to the Salem clubhouse, I saw a good fifty bikes parked outside. I’d known officers would be coming, but this was a bigger turnout than I’d expected.

Guess war will do that.

Skid and I backed our bikes into the line. He glanced over at the prospects standing guard, then gestured at me to wait before going in.

“Kelsey says you were with Em last night?” he asked. I bristled.

“I put Kelsey on a plane at six this morning. Picked her up at her place, and she won’t land for another hour. When the f*ck did you talk to her?”

He just looked at me, and I clenched my teeth.

“I knew it,” I muttered. “She deserves better than you.”

“It’s none of your business,” he said.

“What I do with Em is none of your business, either.”

“Different situation. Fuckin’ Kelsey doesn’t put anyone in danger but me, and I’m pretty sure you won’t kill me outright unless I knock her up or something … But this shit with Em hurts the whole club, bro. You need to go in there and tell Burke.”

“Don’t lecture me, *. I know that. Or are you saying I can’t handle myself?”

“So long as you put the club first,” Skid said. “Burke needs us. Remember that.”

“Trust me, I never forget,” I snapped. “And don’t hurt my sister.”

Skid snorted.

“I wouldn’t worry about that if I was you.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Ask her,” Skid muttered. “Trust me, she’s not the victim here.”

The atmosphere in the clubhouse was darker than I’d ever seen it. Burke sat in the back, talking to several of the chapter presidents. His eyes caught mine as I walked in, and he gestured me over. I realized this was it—decision time.

Might as well get it over with.

“I need a moment, Burke.”

He tilted his head, considering. Then he nodded.

“In my office,” he said. He stood and I followed him down the hallway, wondering how the next ten minutes would play out. You never knew with Burke. He’d been like a father to me … But he’d also taught me to kill.

He couldn’t afford to show mercy, especially not right now.

“Shut the door,” he said, sitting back in his chair. “What is it?”

“It’s Emmy Hayes,” I said, figuring it didn’t make sense to be anything less than direct. “I f*cked her last night and I’m pretty sure I’ll be doing it again in the near future. Hopefully on a regular basis.”

He studied me, eyes cold like a snake’s. Sometimes I wondered why Burke helped me kill Jim all those years ago. At the time I thought he was saving us, that he didn’t like seeing two kids suffer. In retrospect, I wasn’t so sure.

Burke was always ten moves ahead of the rest of us. Had he seen an angry teenager and decided I might suit his purposes some day? The chance to shape a valuable asset for the club? I’d probably never know.

“You with her last night?”

“Yup,” I said, holding his gaze. “That’s why I’m convinced it was the cartel that hit us. I talked to Picnic right after it happened. He had no idea I was with her and no time to put together a story. He played tough, but the man was scared shitless for his kids—scared enough to give me safe passage to take her home. Her dumbass sister was still missing, by the way.”

“Interesting,” he said, betraying nothing. “I know when we started this, you thought keeping her around would work out for you … That was under very specific conditions. Apparently those conditions have changed—you’re obviously emotionally invested—and that’s not so convenient for my plans. How serious are you about this?”

“Pretty serious,” I admitted. “I’m not sure where we’re going, but I won’t give her up without a fight.”

Silence fell between us. I held his eyes steadily, refusing to soften what I’d just said or back down.

“I’ll need you to talk to the others,” he said finally. “Explain your relationship with her, including your plans and how they differ from the original arrangement. I won’t have this used against me. Of course, that kills any hope you have for leadership, at least for now.”

“I understand.”

Yeah, I understood. But it hurt.

“There’s some good that can come of this, though,” Burke said thoughtfully. “I’ll have you talk about Hayes’s reaction, explain why it reinforces the cartel theory. We’ve got hotheads pushing for retaliation against the Reapers. They don’t want to believe the cartel has the reach to pull off an attack like this.”

“So you think it was the cartel?”

“I’m certain of it,” he said, his voice grim. “I’ve met the Reapers’ president, Shade. He’s a good man. This isn’t his style. The others don’t want to accept that, though. They’d rather blame another MC than admit we’re really at war with the cartel.”

I nodded, because he was right. Fighting the Reapers was weirdly safe, almost comfortable in a strange way. We all knew the rules and what to expect from each other.