Devil’s Game (Reapers MC #3)(63)
Author: Joanna Wylde

The daughter of a Reapers MC president, despite the fact that his brothers and my father had been enemies since before I was born.

Hunter had handed me his life.

Literally.

• • •

Monday afternoon Cookie and I sat at the kitchen table playing rummy. Hunter hadn’t been in touch again and I’d gotten over my initial giddy excitement. Now I was just bored.

“I’m tired of coloring,” Silvie declared. “I wanna go to the park.”

“Me, too,” Cookie murmured. “But we need to stay inside today, baby. Why don’t you go to your room and pick out a book? I’ll come back and read it to you in a little bit. I want to talk to Em for a minute.”

“Okay.”

Silvie hopped down and ran out of the room. Cookie leaned toward me across the table.

“I’m losing my mind,” she confessed in a low voice.

“At least the shop is open again,” I replied, trying to sound cheerful. It wasn’t a particularly successful attempt. I was losing my mind, too.

“For now,” she muttered. “But they can’t handle taking stock or ordering, even if the counter’s covered. I’m thinking about telling Deke to leave. They may have water damage at the clubhouse, but that’s their problem, not mine. I think it’s time for this operation to move out.”

I opened my eyes wide.

“Seriously?”

“Yes,” Cookie said, glancing toward the living room. “I’m a prisoner in my own home. You know what makes it worse, though? This isn’t my fight. I’m not even part of the club anymore. Bagger is dead and I’ve been on my own for nearly a year. Deke has no f**king right to show up here and treat me like club property. I may have been Bagger’s property, but that’s over. Not like he’s coming back.”

“I don’t know what to say . . . I didn’t know you felt that way about the club.”

She sighed, and shook her head, tossing her cards down.

“I don’t,” she said, running a hand through her curls. “Or maybe I do. I don’t know. I’m just tired of being stuck in my house when I have a business that needs running. I’m not getting laid and I’m not getting any younger. You know, it’s only been eleven months since Bagger died, but he was deployed for ten months before that. I’ve been alone forever, Em. Or at least it feels that way . . . I’m tired of being a good old lady, staying strong in memory of a man who cared more about his f**king war than his family.”

I stared at her, eyes wide. I had no idea what to say. None. I heard a throat clearing and looked up to find Deke standing in the doorway.

“Um, hi, Deke?” I asked.

“Fuck it,” Cookie said, turning her head to glare at him. She stood and walked out, pushing past the big biker without another word.

Awkward.

Deke walked slowly to the table, then leaned across it on his hands, his face about a foot from mine.

“What the hell was that about?” he asked, his voice like ice. God, did he have any settings that weren’t scary?

“I have no idea,” I whispered, eyes wide. “Seriously. We were just sitting here playing cards and she started talking. I’ve never heard her say anything like that before. I had no idea . . .”

My voice trailed off. Deke nodded, then sat down across from me. He folded his arms across his chest and studied me like a bug. I hoped very sincerely I wouldn’t pee my pants, because that’s how terrifying he was. No joke.

“We need to talk.”

“Okay?”

“Your dad wants you home,” he said. “You should’ve gone with Kit yesterday.”

“I’m not going home. Coeur d’Alene isn’t a good place for me anymore.”

“Listen up, little girl,” Deke told me, his voice cold and matter of fact. “Hunter is using you. I know you don’t like that idea. It probably hurts your feelings or some such shit. But these are the facts. This club—your club—is under attack. We don’t know for sure that the Jacks are behind it, but we do know one thing—when they needed a weak link last time, they went after you. You already fell for Hunter’s shit once. He’s a proven liar who’s not afraid to use a woman to get what he wants. Don’t you think it’s a pretty big coincidence that he just happened to be with you the night everything went down? The Jacks could be trying to pit us against the cartel for their own reasons. For all you know, he’s using you to convince us they’re victims, too. Take us off guard for another sneak attack.”

“What about their president?” I demanded. “Two men are dead, Deke.”

“So they say,” he replied, leaning back in his chair. “But all the cops are saying is that two men were shot. We know their club is tearing apart at the seams. Their VP—Burke—has stepped up, but there’s no guarantee he can hold them together. At least that’s how I read it. For all we know, the Jacks took them out for their own reasons. Power struggle.”

I shook my head.

“You didn’t see his face,” I said. “It was real, Deke. He had no idea.”

“Says the girl who talked to a Devil’s Jack online for almost three months without a f**kin’ clue she was being set up. Use your brain, Em. Don’t make a fool of yourself again. Just go home and forget you ever met him.”

I stood carefully, blinking back tears, and walked out of the kitchen with as much dignity as I could manage. I agreed with Cookie—Deke needed to go away.

I didn’t like him one little bit.

TUESDAY

ME: I’m sick of being stuck in this house. They won’t let us do anything. Not even Kit is this trapped in Coeur d’Alene!!!

HUNTER: They didn’t shoot up the clubhouse in CDA and it’s farther north. Not the same thing. But I hear you—I’ll be back to town tomorrow. See you then?

ME: Definitely

HUNTER: Think I can call tonight. I never have any privacy, but I f**king miss you. Want to hear your voice. Keep thinking of that sexy mouth of yours and what it will look like wrapped around my dick.

ME: Um . . .

HUNTER: Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you first, babe . . . And after. I can’t wait to strip off all your clothes and get you naked in my bed. Might not let you out for a month.

ME: Well, when you put it like that . . . Ok ?

My phone rang at ten p.m. I’d almost given up on him calling, so when he did, I was so excited I nearly fell off my bed.