Reaper's Property (Reapers MC, #1)(73)

“Let’s go upstairs to the game room.”

Nearly half of the armory’s the second floor was a large, open room where they’d set up pool tables, an air hockey table and a bunch of old couches. There was a big-screen TV up against one wall hooked to the satellite and about six different kinds of video consoles. Later on people might bed down in here, but for now it was quiet. Down the hallway was a series of rooms they used for all kinds of things, from storing extra inventory for the businesses to privacy for a quickie. He escorted Serena to the couch in front of the TV. She looked around, eyes lingering on the hallway.

“The room in use tonight?”

Horse grimaced and shrugged.

“Who knows,” he said. “Nobody makes ’em do it. You starting to judge?”

She shook her head and laughed, leaning toward him to brush her hand along his cut.

“Babe, I’ve spent a night or two in there myself,” she replied, winking. “I think you were off with the Marines or something.”

“You mean you were with someone else while I was gone?” he asked, clutching a hand to his heart, pretending to be offended. She burst out laughing.

“You know me. I’ll stand by my man so long as he’s in the room and has a pile of cash.”

Horse laughed with her, loving her honesty. Being with Serena was comfortable, no question. A part of him wished he could care about her the way he did about Marie. They would’ve been a good pair, and she sure as shit knew her way around the club. Intimately. Yeah, that wouldn’t work, he decided. Someone took her as property the other old ladies would probably kill her.

Or she’d kill them, he decided, eyeing the long, red talons she called fingernails.

“What’s the look for?” she asked, arching a brow.

“Just wondering who’d win if you got into it with the old ladies,” he answered. “I’m not sure.”

She burst out laughing so hard that she snorted beer out her nose, which made her laugh more. That’s what he loved about Serena—whatever she did, she did it openly and without any pretense. He took the glass from her, looking around to find something to help her clean up. There was an old sweatshirt tucked into the end of the couch, so he snagged it and leaned toward her, helping to wipe off her chest and lap. Serena didn’t help, giggling and slapping at him.

“You’re just trying to cop a feel, you dirty bastard!” she exclaimed. He grinned at her.

“Yeah, you know me. Always looking for my next lay.”

Then a voice cut through his laughter and it was his turn to choke.

“I can see why you t-t-t-told me to wait upst-t-t-t-tairs.”

Horse turned his head to see Marie standing behind the couch, wrapped in a blanket, face pale and teeth chattering.

“Well, shit,” he muttered. Serena looked between them, eyes wide.

“I take it this is the old lady?”





Chapter Eighteen



Marie

I couldn’t get the window closed.

It was stupid to open it but I’ve got a bit of a claustrophobia thing. To be fair, I was stuck in a room alone all by myself, and it wasn’t a particularly big room. I heard the noise of the party below and I knew that Horse would be up eventually. But the bars on the window and the fact that I couldn’t make contact with Jeff and I couldn’t leave made me feel a little panicky.

So I decided to open the window for some fresh air.

Of course it was stuck, so I worked at it, rocking the old wooden sash back and forth until I got my fingers underneath. Then I braced against the floor and pushed up with all I had. Because I have shitty luck, it held for a second then burst free, sliding all the way up and getting stuck again, this time open. It took about ten minutes before I realized this might be a serious problem. The place was heated with one of those big old freestanding radiators that didn’t have separate controls for individual rooms, so I couldn’t turn it up. It hadn’t been too warm in here to begin with. Outside the night was cold and clear and perfect, the evergreens on the hillsides surrounding us dusted with a hint of frost like something out of a Christmas card.

Now it was becoming cold and clear but not-so-perfect in the room.

I tried to get it closed of course. And I put on my coat, but it was just my leather jacket and not particularly warm. I’d been looking for a winter coat but they all cost so much and I didn’t like spending money, so I’d been hunting in consignment shops for just the right thing. I started pacing, trying to decide what to do next. I dug in my purse, pushing aside my gun to find my phone. Not that I carried the gun all the time, but Horse wanted it with me until they dealt with the Jacks.

No voicemails or texts, but I decided I might as well check my email. There was a new message from Jeff on the webmail account. I start reading, a sinking sensation filling my stomach.



Sis, I’m glad they haven’t hurt you. You need to play along and do what they ask, don’t give them any reason not to treat you well. I’m sending a decoy message to your main account too, telling you that I’m thinking about getting in touch with them. But you need to know the Reapers are bad guys and they won’t hesitate to kill you. Neither will the Devil’s Jacks, but I’ve got things worked out with them so that you and I should be okay.

Couple of things you need to know. You say it’s good between you and Horse, and that scares me. He’s stringing you along, you can’t trust this guy at all. I’ve learned a lot about him. Did you know he was special forces in Afghanistan? His specialty was recon, which means they’d send him out ahead to get information and do their dirty work. He killed a lot of people and he got investigated for murdering civilians. Women and children, sis. They were going to court martial him, but then the witnesses either wouldn’t talk or disappeared. It was a cover-up, that’s the only explanation. They couldn’t even give him a dishonorable discharge, that’s how sneaky he was. Here are some links to articles about the massacre. I found other records too, but I can’t send them to you, it’s too dangerous.