Devil’s Game (Reapers MC #3)(89)
Author: Joanna Wylde

I shook my head.

“I won’t risk Em,” I said, and I meant it. “Deal breaker.”

“It’s not a risk,” Burke said. “She’ll be safer here than anywhere else. We won’t hurt her, and they sure as shit won’t, either. That girl is walking, talking neutral territory, and putting her in this house brings us one step closer to establishing a real chapter in Portland. The only place she’d be safer is in her daddy’s house, but I’m willing to bet you won’t be moving in with him.”

“She’s a person, you know. Not just a pawn for you to play with.”

“We’re all pawns,” he replied softly. If I didn’t know better, I’d have said he looked almost human. “And the cartel will keep coming. This game doesn’t end and we both know it. But that doesn’t mean I’m not happy for you. Proud, too. You know, back when we first cooked this whole Em plan up, we figured she’d be a good old lady.”

“Best ever,” I agreed warily. God damn, but he was a wily old bastard.

“Then treat her right. You know, I used to be married. Didn’t work out too well . . .” he said, looking away. “I regret that, I honestly do. You got something good with that girl, so don’t f**k it up. Now go upstairs and look around, see if Em’s on board. If she is, I’ll call the real estate agent.”

• • •

Em stood by the window in the front bedroom, overlooking the street. There were two smaller rooms and a bathroom, too. I came to stand behind her, wrapping my arms around her small figure and dropping my chin to her shoulder. Burke wanted me to use this beautiful girl again, and I f**king hated him for it. I’d hurt her once already on his orders. It had to stop here . . . although he’d been right about a couple of things. The first was the game—it wouldn’t end. And the second was that I had something real good with Em.

Too good to lose for anything. Even the Jacks.

“Thoughts?” I asked, her small body tucked against mine, the feel of her completing me in a way even my club couldn’t. It reinforced my decision and I felt a sense of something like peace about what I had to do. Sure, the thought of it still sickened me, but the thought of losing her sickened me more.

“I don’t know,” she replied. “Was he serious?”

“Yup. He wants to buy it and have us fix it up. In exchange, he’ll let us live here for free.”

“That seems a little . . . out of character? I mean, based on what you’ve told me about him.”

“You could say that,” I answered. “He’s not doing it out of the goodness of his heart, that’s for sure. He wants neutral territory, and figures putting you in a house with me will help keep the peace.”

I felt her stiffen, but then she nodded. “I can see that. What do you think?”

“I don’t like the idea of using you again,” I told her honestly. “I love you and I realized something down there, listening to him.”

“What’s that?”

I paused, taking a deep breath, my heart suddenly pounding. The club had been my life. My family. My brothers. Everything.

Jacks first.

I’d lived by those words for eight years.

“Maybe I should leave the club, Em. We can pull free of all this.”

She stilled. Some women wouldn’t get what I’d just offered, but Em was a child of the Reapers. She knew. Then I felt her body relax and her hands came up and covered mine where they lay across her belly.

“But would letting him use me really be that bad, if it’s for peace?” she asked softly. “My club doesn’t want to hurt me, and if I’m helping you create neutral ground, that’ll make me even more valuable to yours. Isn’t that about as safe as we get in this life? This could be good for all of us, Liam.”

Something in me unclenched, and I felt such incredible relief I could hardly stand. I loved my club so much . . . it was just that I loved Em more.

“Are you sure?” I asked her. Em tugged away from me and turned in my arms, looking up as she cupped my face between her hands. Her eyes met mine and she held my gaze, her expression utterly serious.

“I’m sure,” she said. “There are things I don’t like about your club, but they also helped make you who you are. They’re your family, and now they’re my family, too. I’m not a civilian and I didn’t fall in love with a stockbroker. I fell in love with a Devil’s Jack. I know what it means to wear a cut.”

Then she gave me that same beautiful, goofy smile that’d made me fall in love with her in an instant so many months ago in that parking lot. Fuckin’ punch to the gut. Every. Time.

“Now do you want to move in with me?” she asked lightly. “Maybe create a little safe patch of peace here in Portland? The house has potential—I could be happy living here. But only with you. Skid and the boys can come visit, but they have to keep their own place. I don’t want to live in a frat house.”

“Easy call,” I said, wondering what the f**k I’d done to get this lucky. “He doesn’t smell nice like you.”

“Well, I guess if smell is the criteria, I probably do win,” she said, leaning forward, arms tightening around my waist. I could hold her like this forever. “I like the idea of keeping the peace. And we’re practically living together already. I guess if things get bad, I could always go back to Cookie’s house.”

I clenched up again.

“No,” I said firmly. “If things get bad, you’ll stay right here with me and we’ll work through it.”

“Okay,” she whispered, reaching up to tuck some hair behind my ear. Then she popped up on her toes and kissed me gently. “Want to get started right now?”

“Started on what?”

“Working through things. Because I think you need some clarification on the whole lying issue . . .”

I froze. What had I done now? I searched my memory, wondering if I’d lied without even noticing? Fuck.

“I know I said to only tell me the truth,” she whispered. “But for future reference, when a woman asks a man if something makes her look fat, the answer is always no. Always. Think you can remember that?”

Oh, thank Christ.

“You’re f**ked up.”

“But can you remember it?”

“Yeah,” I said, trying not to laugh.

“Then I guess I’ll move in with you. But I’m serious about Skid. He has to stay at the other house with the guys.”