Devil’s Game (Reapers MC #3)(74)
Author: Joanna Wylde

“Like that makes it better?”

She leaned over and grabbed my phone off the floor, stuffing it into her pocket. Then she swung her backpack over her shoulder and came to stand in front of me, arms crossed over her chest protectively.

Em wouldn’t even look me in the eye. Nope, she just stared at my chest coldly.

“Move out of my way,” she said. “I’m leaving. I can’t stand to be around your lying ass right now.”

“We need to talk—”

She held up a hand.

“You will move out of the way,” she said, every word slow and distinct.

“This isn’t over,” I said carefully. “You go and calm down. Then we’ll talk.”

“I can’t think about that right now,” she muttered, pushing through the door. She started toward the stairs, then turned back to look at me. “You’ve lied to me all along. Makes me wonder . . . What else have you been lying to me about?”

I shook my head.

“Nothing,” I said quietly. Em shrugged.

“I don’t believe you.”

EM

Deke’s bike was parked outside Cookie’s house when I pulled up in the darkness.

Just what I needed.

I punched in the code and crept inside, not wanting to wake her up. It wasn’t that late—only eleven—but she went to bed early because her shop opened at five every morning.

Knowing my luck, Deke would still be up.

I stepped inside, closing the door carefully. No sign of Deke in the living room. He must be sleeping in Silvie’s room. Lucky me. I started down the hallway, but halfway down, Silvie’s door opened, and Cookie stepped out. She froze with a guilty, deer-in-the-headlights look on her face.

“I had a fight with Hunter,” I said quickly. “I don’t want Deke or anyone else to know about it.”

Cookie nodded, then glanced back at Silvie’s door.

“Let’s just say tonight’s a don’t-ask, don’t-tell situation?”

“It’s all about plausible deniability,” I answered, desperate to get away and pretend I hadn’t seen anything. She nodded, then darted down the hall to her own room. I followed her lead, closing my door and locking it behind me. Deke? Ugh. I pulled off my clothes and climbed into bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind spinning. It felt like everything was going horribly wrong.

Hunter had lied to me, keeping my pictures.

Cookie and Deke were . . . doing things I didn’t want to think about.

At least Kit and Dad were still fighting. Not everyone in the world had lost their minds. It would be good to see them tomorrow. I’d leave Portland around ten, and enjoy the holidays Hunter-free. It would give me time to think and decide what I should do about the situation.

I was pretty sure I’d made a terrible mistake. I just wasn’t sure whether that mistake was falling for him in the first place or walking out on him after our fight.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“Wake up!” someone yelled, pounding on my door. I rolled over, trying to figure out what was going on. The spot next to me in bed was empty, and I frowned.

Where was Hunter?

Then it came back. The pictures. Lying bastard.

“Fucking wake up,” Deke shouted at me, his voice grumpy. I stumbled to my feet, thankful I’d pulled on sweats to sleep in last night. I managed to open the door a crack and look out at him.

“What is it?”

“You left something disgusting in the driveway,” he said. “Go clean it up or I will.”

I raised my brows.

“What are you talking about?”

“Go see for yourself,” he muttered. “Oh, and Em?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t want to hear any rumors about Cookie. Got me?”

Seriously?

“Cookie is my friend,” I said, trying not to yawn as I rubbed my eyes. “She opened her home to me, she gave me a job, and she treats me like a sister. No matter what I might think about you, I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.”

He studied me, eyes narrowed. Then he nodded.

“Okay,” he said. “Good to know.”

I rolled my eyes and shut the door. God. I had no idea what she saw in him. None.

• • •

Five minutes later I stood on the porch, looking out across the lawn to the driveway. My little car was tucked up next to the garage. Boxing it in neatly was Hunter’s truck. I couldn’t see that well, but he seemed to be asleep in the front seat.

Fucking great.

I marched over to the truck, slamming my hand down on the hood with a crash. Hunter sat up quickly, and I saw him reach for something. Probably a gun. Good—he might need it if he f**ked with me any more this morning.

He opened his door and stepped out. His face was drawn and tired, his hair messy and tangled, like he’d been running his hands through it. I’m probably a horrible person, but it made me happy to see him suffer a little.

“Hey, Em,” he said, his voice low. “I know you don’t want to see me, but I had to catch you before you took off. I assume you’re still planning to go to Coeur d’Alene?”

“Yes,” I replied, folding my arms. “Probably leaving in a couple of hours. We can talk when I get back, Hunter. I’m still too pissed right now.”

He shook his head slowly.

“Sorry, babe. Can’t let you do that.”

“Do what?”

“Drive to Coeur d’Alene by yourself.”

I raised my brows.

“Have you lost your mind? Consider yourself uninvited to Thanksgiving, ass**le.”

“I don’t have to be at your house with you,” he said quietly. “But with all that’s happening, there’s no way I want you driving across the state by yourself. If you don’t let me go with you, they’ll make some prospect do it. Do you really want some poor kid to miss the holiday with his family just so you don’t have to look at me during a car ride?”

When he put it that way, I felt like a bitch. Of course I didn’t.

“Okay, you can drive with me,” I said. “But you’re on your own once we get there.

“I’ll be driving,” he said. “We’ll leave your car here. I’ll stay with friends or in a hotel, but I’m delivering you safe to your family.”

“Controlling much? What’s wrong with my car?”

“Babe, think it through. If I’m in Coeur d’Alene for the weekend, I’ll need some way to get around. You’ll have your sister and dad to ride with.”