Devil's Game (Reapers MC, #3)(75)

I snorted.

“Dad is never alone.”

“You know what I mean,” she replied. “He’s always had you to keep an eye on him. I know he’s a big bad MC president, but we both know how lonely he gets. Why do you think he drags home all those losers to sleep with?”

“Because he’s horny,” I said, my tone flat. Sometimes the truth isn’t pretty. “I’m not going back. I just got away from him for the first time in years, and he’ll use this as an excuse to try and keep us there. You know he will.”

“You’re not a slave, you know. You can leave whenever you want.”

“Or I can just stay here. They weren’t shooting at women, and if it’s safe enough for Cookie, it’s safe enough for me. I’d rather stay in Portland and keep moving forward. I’m not going to take stupid risks, but I’m not getting locked away forever, either.”

“You’re letting hormones cloud your brain,” she said bluntly. “This is about Hunter. But he’s just a guy, Em, and there are millions more all over the country. A dick is a dick.”

“It isn’t just about Hunter, Kit. Okay, I’ll admit, maybe it’s a little about him. But I also fought hard to get out. I’m not like you—I’m not independent and strong … If I go home, I might just stay, and I don’t want that.”

“We’ll talk more when I get there,” Kit said, sighing. “I see them pulling up right now. I feel kind of bad for this guy I picked up. He was talking about making me breakfast, but I’m just gonna leave him a note. No point in waking him up.”

I snorted.

“You’re a slut.”


“Probably,” she replied with a hint of her old spirit. “But he’s shit in bed. It’s better this way. See you in a few.”

By nine that morning, the kitchen was warm and full of good smells. Cookie and I were making a king-sized batch of pancakes while Kit sliced fruit. Deke and the brothers had a council of war going in the living room, so we’d closed the sliders that separated the kitchen and dining room to give them privacy. Silvie sat at the table coloring and singing some weird, unending little song about pizza fairies.

I couldn’t seem to stop checking my phone. No word from Hunter. I wasn’t particularly surprised—I assumed he was in his own council of war right now. I just hoped he stayed safe.

“I think Kit is right,” Cookie was saying. “You should go home to Coeur d’Alene with her. If this thing with Hunter is real, it’ll still be real in a couple weeks, when we’ve had a chance to wrap our heads around what’s happening.”

“I’m not going home,” I said, my voice firm. “Moving out was hard. Really hard … I don’t want to slip back into old habits. I’m too comfortable in Coeur d’Alene and the club was smothering me. I’m happier here and I don’t think it would be any safer back home. In fact, I haven’t even decided if I’m going for Thanksgiving. Maybe I’ll have other plans.”

Cookie and Kit exchanged looks.

“You know I’m all about getting laid,” Kit started carefully. Cookie snapped her with a towel.

“Little ears.”

“Sorry. I think it’s great that you and Hunter made a connection,” Kit started again. “But you’re building castles in your head and that’s not too smart, sis.”

“I’m gonna live in a castle when I’m a grown-up,” Silvie declared.

“Good luck,” Cookie muttered. “I leave the shop closed another day and we won’t be able to afford a house.”

“Are things really that tight?” I asked, startled. She shook her head, frowning.

“No, but you get what I mean. I’m just frustrated because Deke seems to think he’s my boss. No thanks—I’m a sole proprietor.”

I snickered.

“Bikers are crazy,” Kit said, rolling her eyes. “All caveman and bullshit. You’ll never catch me with one of them, I promise you. Life is too short to let a man call the shots.”

“And yet you’re the one trying to convince me to go home to Coeur d’Alene. You do realize it’s infested with them, right?”

She opened her mouth to argue, but Cookie’s phone rang and we all froze. What now? Cookie grabbed it.

“It’s Maggs,” she told us, her face nervous as she answered. “Hey, hon … What’s up?”

She listened for a minute, her eyes growing wide. Then she screamed and started jumping up and down. Seconds later the kitchen door burst open and Deke ran through, gun in hand. Cookie burst into tears, a huge smile transforming her face.

“Bolt’s coming home!” she yelled “He got parole. It’s a f*cking miracle. They’re actually letting him come home!”

Kit and I burst out screaming and hugging each other. Deke collapsed back against the door frame, and for the first time in my life I saw him smile.

“About time we got some good news,” he said. “Fuck. Didn’t see that coming. Idaho never paroles ’em if they won’t confess to the charges.”

“Let me talk to Maggs,” I demanded, reaching for the phone. Cookie laughed and handed it over. “Maggs! I can’t believe it! When did you find out?”