Reaper's Stand(64)

Fuck ’em. What’s the point of being president if you can’t pull rank every once in a while?

Someone knocked at the door and I glanced at the clock. Almost nine in the morning, though you’d never know it seein’ as the office didn’t have a window.

“You in there, prez?” Bolt asked.

“Yeah,” I said, keeping my voice low. London stirred, then slumped back down into sleep.

“Girls got breakfast going,” he said. “Shade says he wants to start church before ten. We got a lot to get through.”

“’Kay,” I muttered. I shook London, who grumbled and muttered at me to go away. Biting back a smile, I rolled her to the side, sliding her off my body and down into the fabric of the couch. Her butt stuck up in the air and her hair covered her face. She gave another little snore.

I stood and stretched, reaching for the little light on my desk. I found it and flicked it on, sending a soft green glow through the room from the banker’s shade covering the bulb.

You have fun last night? Heather asked.

I glared at her picture on the file cabinet.

Yeah. You got a problem with that?

She laughed, and I imagined her shaking her head.

I told you to be happy, baby, she seemed to whisper. I like this one. She makes you smile and she pitches in. The girls like her. I know you don’t want another old lady, but maybe you need to pull your head out of your ass.

Fuck that. Happenin’ too fast. London grunted and rolled onto her back, making a smacking noise with her mouth. It wasn’t the sexiest thing I’d ever seen, but the sight of her tits flattening out across her chest was right up there. She’d seemed too sweet, too soft when I met her. She’d never survive in the club, I’d known it in my bones.

Then she’d sucked my cock like a pro in the courtyard, and the fact that any one of a hundred people could’ve walked up on us at any moment didn’t seem to bother her at all. Earlier, when I’d gotten stuck talking to my national president and left her hangin’ for hours with a crowd of strangers, London did great on her own. The woman wasn’t a coward.

Not only that, she brought food to the party and she wasn’t scared to stand up to Painter. She pitched in to keep things tidy, made sure everyone had enough to eat. Hell, she didn’t even freak out when her house exploded, which would’ve been totally fair, even in my book.

Old lady material.

You don’t want her, maybe you should pass her along to a man who does? Heather suggested, her voice sly. Don’t waste a good old lady—bring her into the club. Doesn’t have to be you claiming her. We need women like this one … Bolt’s lonely as hell these days.

“Bolt touches her, I’m shootin’ him.”

London stirred, then opened her eyes.

“Did you say something?” she whispered. I shook my head.

“Must’ve been someone in the hallway,” I grunted.

“You mind if I sleep some more?”

“Not at all,” I told her. “You rest. I think later on the girls are goin’ out, getting their toes done or some such shit. You should go with them.”

London’s eyes were already closed again.

I gave Heather the finger and slipped out the door.

“It’s time,” Hunter declared, looking around the big game room on the second floor of the Armory. We had men from three clubs here—nowhere near enough room in the chapel for all of us. “We’ve been playing defense against the cartel for too long. The Jacks are standing strong, but we don’t have the manpower to hold out much longer. We’re already losing territory. They’re gettin’ more powerful and soon they won’t be satisfied with anything less than open war. We think it’s better to attack them before they come after us with full strength, but we can’t do it alone. We need the Reapers and the Silver Bastards to join us, along with your support clubs. This may be our last chance to stop them.”

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.”