Reaper's Fall (Reapers MC, #5)(74)

Several of the guys exchanged glances. Technically we hadn’t killed the guy . . . just delivered him to the cartel leaders he’d screwed over, so they could kill him. That shit was on him, ultimately—not like we told him to double-cross a f*cking drug cartel.

“Anything we can do about her?” I asked.

“We’re working on it,” Bolt said. “Sooner or later we’ll find a way, but until then you need to be damned careful. Got it?”

“Yeah, I got it,” I replied. “For the record, this sucks.”

“It is what it is,” Pic said. “Now on to other business. Wanted to give you an update on Gage. His situation’s good. He’s been hanging around with the Nighthawks a lot, so much that they’re already dropping hints about him prospecting. Not only that, they gave two of their prospects patches while you were locked up.”

“Not a huge surprise, I guess,” I murmured. “Still a damned shame to see a club go down like that. Think they’re gearing up for war?”

“Looks that way,” he affirmed. “Gage is doin’ great there, but they’ve been asking about you. He told ’em you got locked up again, so that’s one loose end tied off.”

“Still say we should just ride in there and take over,” Duck grunted. “They’re a support club. Time to assert some f*cking authority.”

“Not until we have a handle on the situation north of the border,” Pic said. “The Nighthawk Raiders are only a symptom of the real problem. We’ll take out Marsh once we get the pipeline secured. Took us five years to build that trade up. Can’t afford to start over—too many people waiting to swoop in on our territory. We go after Marsh direct without securing the border and we might as well hand Hallies Falls over to the cartel with a f*cking bow.”

Duck grunted. “You worry too much about money. This is about respect.”

Picnic sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

“Anyone else?”

“Sorry, Duck,” Bolt said. “But I’m with Pic on this. You’re right—it’s a matter of respect. But it’s also about business.”

“Painter, what about you?” Pic asked. That surprised me—I gave my reports and occasionally offered a comment, but meetings like this were usually about the more established guys making decisions.

“The Nighthawks are rotten,” I said slowly. “We can take them out anytime we want, easy. We do it right, we slide into the void and take over their trade, which is good for us. I agree that we have to maintain respect, but a few more weeks won’t make much of a difference. Give Gage time to work.”

“All in favor?” Pic asked. Everyone but Duck grunted an affirmative. He just growled at us, then rose from his chair to lumber off toward the bar.

“He seem grumpier than usual?” Horse asked.

“Been havin’ a rough time,” Pic said, his voice low. “Goin’ to the doctor a lot lately. Somethin’s up, but he won’t tell me what. Stupid f*cking stubborn *. Painter, you got a minute? Want to talk to you—in the office.”

“Sure,” I said, rising to follow him out into the hall. His office was across the way, and something about getting called into it reminded me of when I’d gotten in trouble at school. There was a principal-ish feel to the place, even though the walls were papered with posters advertising headliners at The Line.

“What’s up?” I asked, settling into the chair in front of his big desk. He sat down in the chair behind it, one of those old-fashioned wooden ones with spindles on the back and rollers on the bottom.

“Just wanted to check in with you,” he said. “Now that we’ve talked things out. You doin’ okay?”

“Fine,” I said. “I mean, Mel was a little weird yesterday when she came to see me, but this has been a lot for her to take in. We’ll figure it out tonight.”

Picnic frowned.

“There’s something going on with that girl,” he admitted. “Jess called Loni last night, made her drive into town. She spent half the night at their place, and she won’t tell me why. She insisted there’s nothing wrong with Jessica, so I asked her about Mel and she got real quiet. Loni doesn’t lie to me—not after all the shit that went down—but sometimes she just won’t say anything. Not sure what’s going on, but you need to figure it out and take care of it. Let me know if you need any help.”

“Yeah, sure,” I said. My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out, seeing a text from Mel.

MELANIE: Just pulled up. You around?

ME: Be right out

“That’s Mel,” I said, feeling a stupid grin cross my face. God, I was turning into a dumbass. “She’s outside.”

Picnic gave a short, snorting laugh.

“Go get your girl,” he said. “Probably time to patch her anyway. That’ll settle her down.”

? ? ?

Probably makes me sound like a *, but it took everything I had not to run to the parking lot. I was eager to get laid, of course, but it was more than that. I wanted to see Mel. Hold her . . . Know that she was still safe and that she still belonged to me.

I managed not to tear off across the gravel like a kid when I saw her, but I walked fast. Fuck, but she was beautiful. She was gorgeous when I’d seen her inside, too, but the lights in there were shit. Made everyone look yellow, even my beautiful girl.