Reaper's Stand (Reapers MC, #4)(87)

Fuckin’ women.



LONDON

By the time Reese came back, I’d started shivering so hard my muscles and joints ached from the strain. My toes and fingers had gone numb, and while freezing to death wasn’t exactly a danger, this borderline hypothermia shit bit the big one.

Then I heard footsteps outside the door, and the low murmur of voices. The bolt slid back with a thud and the door opened. Light from the hallway blinded me at first, and I blinked rapidly at the shadowy outline of what had to be Reese.

I supposed I should be scared of him, but I was just way too cold.

“H-hey,” I said, the word unsteady. “A-a-any word on J-Jess?”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, and I started laughing because the question was so ridiculously stupid.

“W-w-why don’t we just l-list what’s right?” I asked, too tired and cold to think straight. He shut the door and came toward me, sitting down on the bed.

“Shit, you’re freezing,” he muttered, pulling back the blankets. “Fuck.”

Within seconds, he’d wrapped me up in the blanket and was carrying me out of the room, yelling at Painter to go find some keys or something. He hauled me down the corridor and up three flights of stairs before turning down the same long hallway we’d visited when I’d first come looking for Jessica.

Painter was ahead of us, opening up one of the rooms, and then Reese carried me in and set me on my feet. He fumbled for a minute to unlock the handcuffs, then stripped off my wet clothing with smooth efficiency. He led me to a tiny bathroom, switching on the shower and waiting until steam started rising before putting me under the hot spray.

Amazing.

The water flooded over me, and after a few minutes my shivers died down. Reese stood watching me, his face pensive, until the water started to cool. I reached over and twisted the faucet closed.

“You have a towel?” I asked, feeling self-conscious. Sure, he’d seen me naked . . . but that was before. He stepped out of the bathroom, returning seconds later to hold a towel out to me wordlessly. I dried off quickly, then wrapped it around me.

“You’re all bruised up,” he said.

I shrugged. “Shit happens.”

“C’mon over to the bed. Let’s talk.”

“Is this like the last ‘talk’ we had?” I asked, my voice rasping—probably from all the screaming I’d done. “I know you’re in charge, but I’m still kind of sore down below. Not sure I can handle more talking quite yet.”

He shook his head, eyes serious. I walked over to him as he sat on the bed and learned back against the wall. He caught my hand and tugged me down until I settled between his legs, my back to his stomach. His arms came around me and I let myself relax into his heat and strength, wishing things had been different.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked him finally, hating to break the strange sense of peace that had settled between us. “I realize you have no reason to believe me, but I’m sorry for what I did, Reese. Really sorry, and not just because it backfired on me. I know it was wrong and stupid and you’ll never trust me again . . . but if there’s a way for me to help you fight, I want to do it.”

“Fight? What do you mean?”

“I’m not stupid. These people—these drug dealers—they’re out to hurt you, and probably a whole lot of other people, too.”

“They’re a cartel. Big one, out of Mexico. Control the West Coast trade, up through northern Cali. Movin’ upward now into Oregon and southern Idaho.”

“I want to stop them. I don’t care what it takes,” I murmured, burrowing deeper into his embrace. My neck still hurt from the tiny cut he’d given me, but considering I’d tried to shoot him, I’d gotten off easy. At least so far. I still didn’t know what they planned to do with me, but for the moment I chose not to think about the future.

Sounds crazy, but even now I felt safe when he held me.

“What about Jess?” he asked.

“I don’t think they ever planned to let her go,” I whispered. “I think she’s going to die unless someone stops them. Kills them. They’re evil.”

“Wish you weren’t right,” he replied, and I felt his chin come to rest on top of my head. “Cartel bastards think I’m dead now. Think you shot me, then killed yourself. They still aren’t gonna let her go, even though we gave them what they wanted.”

Shit. I’d suspected, but hearing Reese lay it all out felt like a punch to the gut. I swallowed.

“How did you convince them we’re dead?”

“Deputy Dick told them.”

“Why would he lie to them? Isn’t that dangerous?”

“We asked him very nicely.”

Somehow I didn’t think Reese was using the word “nicely” in the traditional sense. Didn’t sound promising for Nate’s future prospects. I considered the situation—did it bother me that the Reapers had obviously done something terrifying and horrible to make him lie?

No. It really didn’t. Did that make me a bad person?

I decided I didn’t care.

“He used Jess, then he sent her down to those people knowing what they are,” I said slowly. “And he tried to turn me into a murderer. I don’t know if it’s allowed under the circumstances, but I’d like to see him before you kill him. Talk to him. I have things to say, and I’d like to see his face when he realizes he lost.”