Reaper's Fire
Page 38
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
Carrie’s eyes flashed with something. Surprise, maybe? Like she thought I’d defend Talia. Fuck that shit—this ended, and it ended today.
“Tinker was alone in the shop this morning,” she said. “Packaging the shipment for her Seattle delivery. Talia showed up and cornered her in the kitchen. Threatened her with a big fucking knife and destroyed almost all of her product. Now she’s got orders she can’t fill, which means she’ll be working night and day trying to catch up. To pull it off she needs her kitchen in Seattle. That means staying in the same house with her asshole of an ex, who’ll probably try to convince her to come back to him. I lost my best friend to that bastard once, but I’m not going to lose her again. I don’t know what happened last night and I don’t give one flying fuck. This is your fault and you will fix it. Clear?”
Oh, she was clear. So fucking clear my vision narrowed into a red tunnel of rage.
Carrie stepped back, fear flickering across her face. Then it hardened with new resolution, and I knew it didn’t matter how much I might scare her—she wasn’t going to stand around and watch while her best girl got hurt.
Tinker’s friend was one of the good ones.
“Where’s your man?” I asked. She glanced away, dodging my gaze.
“He’s not part of this.”
“Really? Because from what I saw the other night, he’s not the type to let his woman do this kind of work. You didn’t tell him, did you?”
She glared at me, shaking her head.
“Darren is a real man,” she said—the implication that I wasn’t all too clear. Not the kind of shit I’d usually take, but under the circumstances I couldn’t exactly argue with her—I’d played the pussy and fucked up. The fact that I’d done it for the club didn’t change the reality that I’d gotten an innocent woman hurt.
A woman I happened to like a little bit too much.
“So you’re scared to tell him,” I concluded. “Scared he’ll come after me with a shotgun.”
Lotta that goin’ on in this town.
Carrie held my gaze steadily, refusing to answer. If I weren’t so pissed, I’d have smiled—Darren was my kind of guy. Needed to keep a closer eye on his wife, though. Carrie might be a firecracker, but confronting me alone had been stupid as hell.
Almost as stupid as Tinker refusing to tell me what’d happened with Talia.
“Next time, tell your man the truth.”
“I fight my own fights.”
“Fight using the weapons you have. You’re lucky. Darren’s a strong one, so don’t be afraid to ask him for help. When it comes to physical confrontation, you and me aren’t equals, and you had no business taking me on alone. But in this case, I happen to agree with you. Tinker doesn’t deserve this. I’ll make it stop.”
She nodded once, turning and stalking toward the Mustang. Then she paused and glanced back at me.
“You’re physically stronger than me,” she acknowledged, her eyes hard. “And you’re friends with a bunch of thugs. I have no doubt they could hurt my husband. Maybe even kill him . . . but there’s something you might want to keep in mind. When a motorcycle tangles with an SUV, the SUV always wins. I drive a Suburban, and accidents happen. Tragic, random traffic accidents. Don’t think I’ll hesitate to run you down like a rabid dog if your girlfriend hurts Tinker.”
With that she climbed back into the shiny red car and slammed the door, pulling away with a screech of her tires. I stood staring after her for a few minutes, then pulled out my phone and dialed my president.
“Hey, Pic. Things are unraveling fast,” I said, wishing I had something to punch.
“What’d you fuck up now?” he asked.
“Thanks for the vote of support,” I snapped. “Work with me, Picnic.”
“Okay, lay it out and we’ll find a solution.”
“Thought I set Talia straight last night, but she went after Tinker this morning,” I told him. “Now Tinker’s runnin’ scared and took off for Seattle with her dad for the week. Oh, and speaking of her dad, he pulled a shotgun on me this afternoon, so that was fun.”
Silence.
“You wanna run that by me again?”
“Tinker’s dad is losing his mind. Like, literally. He saw me arguin’ with her and pulled a gun on us, confused as hell. It was a special moment.”
“Why were you arguing with her?” he asked. “Thought we decided to watch and wait.”
“Because she’s gonna go see her husband in Seattle. You find out anything about him yet?”
“You don’t do it halfway, do you?”
I snorted. “No fun in that.”
Picnic laughed, startling me. I’d known him most of my life and could usually call his reactions. This time I wasn’t so sure . . . Knew one thing, though. Somewhere along the line, protecting Tinker had become a very high priority. How or when this had happened, I had no goddamn idea, but it was the truth.
“You’re really serious about this woman.”
“Yeah, boss. I’m serious about her, whatever the hell that means,” I said. “I’m also frustrated and pissed off. Christ, Pic. You got no idea what bullshit this is. The Nighthawks are a fuckin’ joke, I’m banging some bitch who thinks she owns my cock, and the woman I’m falling for is scared shitless of me. We’re not making any progress, boss. I want to call the operation. There’s more than one way to extract information. We should bring in the brothers, take Marsh back to the Armory, and get our fucking questions answered.”
“Okay, calm down,” Picnic said. “I hear you. Things are obviously changing and we need to adjust our plans.”
His words caught me off guard. I didn’t know what I’d expected—that he’d get pissed I wasn’t focused enough, or something, which was ridiculous. I’d been through hell with this man more than once, and I knew the Reapers brothers would die for me, every last one of them.
“So how do you want to do it?” I asked slowly.
“First up, shut down Talia. Do whatever it takes, got me? You’re supposed to be her man and she fucked around on you. Let her know payback’s a bitch, and that you’re done with her bullshit. You don’t want her fuckin’ up your living situation—”
“Tinker was alone in the shop this morning,” she said. “Packaging the shipment for her Seattle delivery. Talia showed up and cornered her in the kitchen. Threatened her with a big fucking knife and destroyed almost all of her product. Now she’s got orders she can’t fill, which means she’ll be working night and day trying to catch up. To pull it off she needs her kitchen in Seattle. That means staying in the same house with her asshole of an ex, who’ll probably try to convince her to come back to him. I lost my best friend to that bastard once, but I’m not going to lose her again. I don’t know what happened last night and I don’t give one flying fuck. This is your fault and you will fix it. Clear?”
Oh, she was clear. So fucking clear my vision narrowed into a red tunnel of rage.
Carrie stepped back, fear flickering across her face. Then it hardened with new resolution, and I knew it didn’t matter how much I might scare her—she wasn’t going to stand around and watch while her best girl got hurt.
Tinker’s friend was one of the good ones.
“Where’s your man?” I asked. She glanced away, dodging my gaze.
“He’s not part of this.”
“Really? Because from what I saw the other night, he’s not the type to let his woman do this kind of work. You didn’t tell him, did you?”
She glared at me, shaking her head.
“Darren is a real man,” she said—the implication that I wasn’t all too clear. Not the kind of shit I’d usually take, but under the circumstances I couldn’t exactly argue with her—I’d played the pussy and fucked up. The fact that I’d done it for the club didn’t change the reality that I’d gotten an innocent woman hurt.
A woman I happened to like a little bit too much.
“So you’re scared to tell him,” I concluded. “Scared he’ll come after me with a shotgun.”
Lotta that goin’ on in this town.
Carrie held my gaze steadily, refusing to answer. If I weren’t so pissed, I’d have smiled—Darren was my kind of guy. Needed to keep a closer eye on his wife, though. Carrie might be a firecracker, but confronting me alone had been stupid as hell.
Almost as stupid as Tinker refusing to tell me what’d happened with Talia.
“Next time, tell your man the truth.”
“I fight my own fights.”
“Fight using the weapons you have. You’re lucky. Darren’s a strong one, so don’t be afraid to ask him for help. When it comes to physical confrontation, you and me aren’t equals, and you had no business taking me on alone. But in this case, I happen to agree with you. Tinker doesn’t deserve this. I’ll make it stop.”
She nodded once, turning and stalking toward the Mustang. Then she paused and glanced back at me.
“You’re physically stronger than me,” she acknowledged, her eyes hard. “And you’re friends with a bunch of thugs. I have no doubt they could hurt my husband. Maybe even kill him . . . but there’s something you might want to keep in mind. When a motorcycle tangles with an SUV, the SUV always wins. I drive a Suburban, and accidents happen. Tragic, random traffic accidents. Don’t think I’ll hesitate to run you down like a rabid dog if your girlfriend hurts Tinker.”
With that she climbed back into the shiny red car and slammed the door, pulling away with a screech of her tires. I stood staring after her for a few minutes, then pulled out my phone and dialed my president.
“Hey, Pic. Things are unraveling fast,” I said, wishing I had something to punch.
“What’d you fuck up now?” he asked.
“Thanks for the vote of support,” I snapped. “Work with me, Picnic.”
“Okay, lay it out and we’ll find a solution.”
“Thought I set Talia straight last night, but she went after Tinker this morning,” I told him. “Now Tinker’s runnin’ scared and took off for Seattle with her dad for the week. Oh, and speaking of her dad, he pulled a shotgun on me this afternoon, so that was fun.”
Silence.
“You wanna run that by me again?”
“Tinker’s dad is losing his mind. Like, literally. He saw me arguin’ with her and pulled a gun on us, confused as hell. It was a special moment.”
“Why were you arguing with her?” he asked. “Thought we decided to watch and wait.”
“Because she’s gonna go see her husband in Seattle. You find out anything about him yet?”
“You don’t do it halfway, do you?”
I snorted. “No fun in that.”
Picnic laughed, startling me. I’d known him most of my life and could usually call his reactions. This time I wasn’t so sure . . . Knew one thing, though. Somewhere along the line, protecting Tinker had become a very high priority. How or when this had happened, I had no goddamn idea, but it was the truth.
“You’re really serious about this woman.”
“Yeah, boss. I’m serious about her, whatever the hell that means,” I said. “I’m also frustrated and pissed off. Christ, Pic. You got no idea what bullshit this is. The Nighthawks are a fuckin’ joke, I’m banging some bitch who thinks she owns my cock, and the woman I’m falling for is scared shitless of me. We’re not making any progress, boss. I want to call the operation. There’s more than one way to extract information. We should bring in the brothers, take Marsh back to the Armory, and get our fucking questions answered.”
“Okay, calm down,” Picnic said. “I hear you. Things are obviously changing and we need to adjust our plans.”
His words caught me off guard. I didn’t know what I’d expected—that he’d get pissed I wasn’t focused enough, or something, which was ridiculous. I’d been through hell with this man more than once, and I knew the Reapers brothers would die for me, every last one of them.
“So how do you want to do it?” I asked slowly.
“First up, shut down Talia. Do whatever it takes, got me? You’re supposed to be her man and she fucked around on you. Let her know payback’s a bitch, and that you’re done with her bullshit. You don’t want her fuckin’ up your living situation—”