Reaper's Fall

My brothers shared looks across the table.

“This have anything to do with whatever the fuck’s been going on with Melanie?” Picnic asked bluntly. “Saw her tearing out of here, crying her eyes out. Loni chased after her. You got a death wish or something?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I mean, yes. Me and Mel have an . . . issue. But trust me, it’s not going anywhere. I need some space to clear my head and no fuckin’ way we can leave Gage hanging high and dry. It’s a risk, but we all take risks every day. Isn’t that what the 1% patch means?”

Picnic sighed.

“Okay, guess it’s your call,” he said. “Anyone else?”

Nobody else said anything, and for once nobody gave me any shit. We were all too busy imagining what might lie ahead of us and whether Gage would make it to Ellensburg safe.

It was a legitimate concern.

If Marsh wanted to execute him, he’d probably lure him out with a story just like this. Made sense, too—it’s what we’d do in his place. And I’d call Melanie just as soon as I got back. Maybe I didn’t want kids, but life was twisty like that. We’d figure it out.

I loved her.

That would be enough. It had to be.

“Okay, I want to roll out in the next twenty minutes,” Pic said. “Party’s canceled, obviously, but I want all the girls safe at the Armory. Duck, you’ll hold things together here. We’ll leave you the prospects and”—he shot a look around the room—“Banks. You stay here, make sure they’re safe. Probably paranoid, but if they wanted to lure us out for an attack, this would be a great way to do it.”

“Mind if I call Puck, ask him to stick around?” I asked. “He was heading over for the party already. I’d like him to keep an eye on Mel.”

“Good plan,” Pic said. “Not just him—I’ll talk to Boonie, too. I know some of them were hoping to make it tonight anyway. I’d be more comfortable knowing London’s safe. I’ll call her, tell her to get her ass back out here, along with Jess and Mel. Now, anything else?”

Nobody spoke.

“Okay, then. Pull your shit together, brothers. Let’s not fuck this up.”

MELANIE

“We’ll start with toothpicks,” Jessica said darkly, stirring her coffee. “Underneath his fingernails, one by one . . . Then I’ll use the pliers to rip the nails off before we skin his balls. All I need is twenty-four hours. He’ll be begging for his life, and then blammo! I’ll cut out his kidneys with his own fucking knife, we sell them on the black market and set up a college fund for the baby. Problem solved.”

I reached for a tissue, wishing I was even slightly surprised by how bloodthirsty she was.

“You can’t kill Painter,” I said, blowing my nose loudly. “Even if he deserves it. He’s this kid’s daddy. I’m not going to hate him, because that’s not what’s important here. The baby is important. I need to figure out a plan, make sure that I have every last thing figured out because if I don’t—”

“Stop,” Loni said, reaching across the table to catch my hand. She gave it a tight squeeze. “Mellie, look at me.”

I met her eyes, wishing my real mom were here. London tried her best, but deep down inside I just wanted to crawl into my mother’s arms until she made everything better. Why’d she have to take off like that? Why’d she leave me?

My hand stole down to my stomach, rubbing softly. I’d never do that to my baby. Never. I’d die before I abandoned her.

I love you already, baby. Mommy’s here.

“You’re going to be okay,” London said, her voice firm and strong. From the table her phone buzzed again, but she ignored it, 100 percent focused on me. “Whatever happens with Painter, me and Jessica are your family. We’ll be here for you. I promise. Do you understand?”

I nodded, feeling a little stronger.

“I’m great with kids,” Jess broke in. “Probably because I think like them . . . Mixed blessing. But Loni’s right—you aren’t alone in this. I hope he pulls his head out of his ass and does the right thing, but if he doesn’t you’re better off without him.”

“And what’s the right thing?” I asked. “Like he’s supposed to marry me or something? I’m not ready to be married.”

Wasn’t ready to be a mother, either.

“The right thing is pulling his shit together and fathering his child,” Loni said bluntly. “I know you’re worried about raising a child in the club, but Reese did it, and he did it well. Bam Bam and Dancer are great parents. It’s possible, but only if Painter makes that choice—that’s on him, and nobody else. I’d love it if you two managed to work things out romantically, but even that isn’t the issue here. Taking care of your baby is the issue and you don’t need him to do that.”

She was right.

“I can do this, can’t I?” I whispered, looking between them. Jessica smiled and nodded.

“You’re the strongest, smartest person I know,” she said. “And even when things get hard, you keep fighting. That’s a lot more than you and I got from our mothers.”

Loni’s phone went off for what had to be the tenth time.

“You know, if I wanted to answer the fucking phone, I would’ve already,” she said, her voice soft, yet somehow deadly. As if to taunt her, the phone buzzed again. Abruptly, she picked it up and threw it across the room, shattering it against the wall.