Reaper's Stand (Reapers MC, #4)(65)

I sat back in my chair, wishing I didn’t dislike Hunter quite so much. Hard to listen to him making such sense and reconcile my respect for his opinions with him f*ckin’ my baby girl and putting a baby in her. Shade, the Reapers’ national president, gave Hunter a respectful nod. The younger man sat back down, making way for Boonie—the president of the Silver Bastards—to speak.

“I agree,” Boonie said, surprising me. The Bastards had the most to lose in a war at this point. They were smaller than us, and so far as I knew, the cartel wasn’t directly interfering with their operations in the Silver Valley, which meant they were only here out of loyalty to the Reapers. I knew Boonie would lay down his life to save any one of us, but there’s a big difference between standing by a brother and following him into war. “The Jacks can’t hold—no offense meant by that, it’s just numbers. And when they fall, the Reapers will fall and then it’ll be too late for the Bastards. If we’re going down, I want to do it with my gun in my hand while there’s still a chance we can win.”

“So we agree?” Shade asked, looking around the room. “I know there are details to be worked out, but if I’m hearing right, all three clubs are on board with an offensive?”

I raised a hand, and Shade gave me a nod. I stood.

“I’m not sayin’ we shouldn’t go after the cartel,” I started. “But I think we need to be damned careful how we plan it, because even with the support clubs behind us, we just don’t have their firepower. Straight-up confrontation won’t work. This needs to be a smart attack, take out their head and then smack them down before a new one pops up. That should buy us some space, at least for a few years. I don’t think anyone here is naive enough to think we can destroy them completely.”

“Wouldn’t matter if we did,” said Duck, the oldest man present. He’d been through Vietnam and had watched more than one MC president rise and fall. Normally only officers spoke at a meet like this, but Duck had earned the right ten times over. “You take out one, another one comes. But we can defend our territory and make a difference if we hit it right. Just remember this—they’ve probably got the CIA behind them. Not that I have any proof, but there’s plenty of evidence the feds have fingers in the drug trade. Goes all the way back to ’Nam. But those spooks aren’t loyal, which means if we weaken the cartel enough, they’ll pull out their backing and it’ll fall apart. Could buy us years of peace. Maybe more if we strike a truce with whoever comes along next.”

Men grunted in agreement, and I sat back, deep in thought. Duck had been goin’ on about the CIA for decades, and it used to be we tuned him out. Recent years had proved him right, though. Time and again they’d been caught out doing business with the cartels, until I hardly noticed when the news reported another incident. I guess their theory was pick a partner and back them against all comers, because some influence over the drug trade was better than none?

Throw in legalization and things got even weirder.

“It settled, then?” Shade asked. “We go in together, take out select leadership targets in a coordinated attack. Anyone got a problem with that plan?”

Silence.

“Then we got some other business to discuss,” Hunter said, startling me. Given we’d been in here talkin’ for the past four hours, seemed like there wasn’t much potential left for uncovered ground.

“What’s that?” Shade asked.

“It’s about London Armstrong.”

I sat up and caught his gaze, jaw tensing.

“Christ, not enough you’re f*ckin’ my daughter?” I asked. “Now you gotta climb into my bed, too? Not club business how I handle my woman, so back the f*ck off.”

Hunter shook his head slowly, eyes holding mine, not giving an inch. God damn, but I should’ve killed him when I had the chance. Probably too late now, what with the baby and all . . .

“Not when it’s part of this war,” he said. “And she’s right in the middle of it.”

“That’s a serious charge,” Duck growled. I felt Gage behind me as he pushed off the wall, coming to stand next to my chair.

“I’m not sayin’ she’s a spy,” Hunter started. “But I did some diggin’ on her. There’s things about her you don’t know, deep shit. Could be she’s an innocent woman in the wrong place at the wrong time. Could also be you’re sleepin’ with the cartel. Needs to be addressed.”

Gage put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it tight.

“Since when are you interested in who I’m sleepin’ with?” I asked. “Thought we were allies. You spyin’ on me?”

Hunter shook his head.

“Your daughter loves you for reasons that occasionally confuse me, so I’m tryin’ to show a little respect,” he said slowly. “I know this shit with you and London is recent, but there’ve been rumors for a while now. Heard you let her walk into the Armory and pull out a girl, all with your blessing. That shit’s not normal and it got me thinkin’. Did a little background work on your girl. You aware that her cousin is shacked up with the cartel’s number two man north of the border?”

I froze.

“Explain,” Shade snapped.

“She’s been with him for more than a year now,” Hunter said. “Guess he’s married to some poor bitch down in Mexico, but he won’t let her come north to enjoy the good life. Not while he has his pretty girlfriend to play house with . . . And guess who’s living with him now, too? The daughter. That Jessica kid London’s so protective of is in his house, eatin’ his food and probably tellin’ him all about Auntie London and how much the president of the Reapers comes runnin’ when she calls. Then suddenly—right after you finally close the deal—her house blows up and she needs a hero to rescue her. Now she’s livin’ in your house with full access to whatever the hell you might have hidden there. Still sure she’s innocent?”