Devil’s Game (Reapers MC #3)(73)
Author: Joanna Wylde

“I don’t need protection.”

She pulled away and gave me a look.

“Yeah, right,” she muttered. “You’re a big bad biker and everyone is afraid of you. Unfortunately, so are the Reapers, and there’s a whole lot of them all concentrated in one place. We’re going to play it safe the whole time, I promise. This means so much to me, Liam—when will you talk to Burke?”

“He’s supposed to call sometime this evening,” I said, running my hands down her back to cup her ass. “I’ll ask him then.”

“Sounds good,” she murmured as I pulled her up tight into my hips. Then I rolled until she lay flat under me, all soft and open and gorgeous.

“I love seeing you like this,” I said. “Love it when your hair is all over my pillow. I want a picture.”

“What do you mean?”

I reached for my phone, unlocking it and opening the camera app. Then I sat up, straddling her, and held it over her head.

“I want a picture of you like this. Smile for me.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Way to put me on the spot,” she muttered, but she smiled. Then right as I took the shot, she stuck out her tongue.

“You’re a very naughty girl,” I said, frowning at her. “Now smile for real this time or I’m giving you a spanking.”

I snapped another shot as the disposable cell on my bedside table started ringing.

“That’ll be Burke,” I said. I dropped my phone on the covers and reached for the burner. “I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t move.”

She laughed and nodded. I took the cell and stepped out of the room, answering it in the hallway.

“Hey,” I said. “What’s up?”

“The sky and hard dicks,” Burke said. “What the hell do you think?”

I snorted.

“God, you’re a ray of sunshine in my life.”

“I do my best. We’ve got news,” he said. “Not good news. I guess there’s a guy up in Coeur d’Alene pretending to be a Devil’s Jack. Got a call from a bar owner, says he’s been in a couple times, talking shit about the Reapers, making threats.”

“You’re f**king kidding me.”

“Nope.”

“Any chance he’s one of ours?” I asked. Shit. I really, really didn’t want to put another brother in the ground.

“He’s not ours,” Burke said. “But he’s sneaky as hell. I guess the Reapers know about him, but they haven’t caught up to him yet. He must’ve been sent by the cartel, kind of like waving a red flag in front of a bull. They’re desperate for us to turn on each other. I think there’s something deeper going on down south than just a territorial expansion. This isn’t their usual M.O.”

“You want me to look into it?” I asked, leaning back against the wall. “I’ve got the perfect excuse. You’ll never guess who called today and invited me to his place for Thanksgiving.”

“Hayes?”

“Got it in one,” I answered. “You think it’s related?”

“Possible,” Burke said. “I can think of several reasons he might do it. He wants his kid back, probably sees inviting you as the best way to get her there. Not only that, you walk right into his house, easy as hell to ambush you. Or I suppose—and this is a hell of a long shot—that it’s possible he’s just being a decent human being, opening his home to his daughter’s old man. If we can open communications, that’d be a real win-win here.”

“So basically I’m bait?” I asked.

“I prefer the word ‘chum.’”

“You have no idea how inspiring it is for a man to get a personal pep talk like this from his president. I’m assuming finding this faker is a high priority while I’m there?”

“You got it.”

“And if I find him?”

“I’ll want to talk to him,” Burke said. “If he’s connected to the cartel, we’ll share him with the Reapers. Maybe that’ll convince them we’re for real. After that, accidents happen. Now go tell your girl you’re going home with her for the holiday. Maybe get a special ‘thank you’ blow job. I think you should enjoy your dick while you still can—Reese Hayes is probably planning to cut it off when you get there.”

He hung up on me, and I snorted. Always a joy.

I turned off the phone and opened my bedroom door.

“Hey, babe . . .”

I froze, taking in the sight of Em kneeling in the center of my bed, staring at me with tearstained eyes. Her hand trembled as she held up my phone. Fuck. Something was very, very wrong.

“I wanted to surprise you,” she said softly. “Put that new picture with my contact info, so you’d see it whenever I call. I went to grab the one you just took.”

Oh, double f**k. I knew exactly where this was going.

“Em—”

“Don’t you f**king talk to me!” she screamed suddenly, throwing the phone across the room at me like a missile. I ducked and it hit the wall, faceplate shattering.

Okay. She’d found the pictures I was supposed to erase. Time for damage control.

“Let me explain.”

“I. Said. Don’t. Talk. To. Me.” she said, her voice like ice. That was when it hit me. I’d screwed up bad. Real bad. “You know, I wasn’t even trying to snoop. You took that picture less than five minutes ago, your goddamned phone was still turned on when you dropped it. It was in a f**king album with my name on it. Christ, Hunter. Do you ever tell the truth? You promised me you’d delete those photos. You promised me. I shouldn’t be afraid to look at something that has my f**king name written on it!”

Her voice had been rising steadily through the whole little speech, and I winced by the end because she’d gotten so shrill it actually hurt my ears. To my horror, Em climbed out of the bed and started grabbing things, stuffing them into her backpack.

“I suppose it’s too much to ask whether you shared them with the other guys?” she muttered. “Let me guess, did you give them to the whole club, or just the guys here at the house? I know how much you all enjoy your  p**n . I suppose I should feel honored you felt I could compete.”

“Nobody has ever seen those but me,” I told her, holding up my hands defensively. Shit. I’d had girls mad at me before, but I’d never really cared. Jesus—no wonder women hated me, if I made them feel this way. “I swear to you, Em. I kept them for myself . . .”