Shayna opened her eyes with a deep breath and a smile. She was lying on her side, Las Vegas visible through the wall of glass in front of her, and Beast tucked in comfortably behind her. He had taken her time and time again last night, fucking her in every position she’d ever tried, and a half-dozen more she’d never heard of. By the time he’d finally come again, they were bathed in sweat and gasping for breath before she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep. She smiled at the slight ache, a wonderful reminder of her labors the night before, but she’d never felt better.
She rolled over, expecting to find Beast still asleep, but his eyes were open and he smiled at her. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” he whispered before kissing her softly.
She enjoyed the slow, sweet kiss. It was deeply sensual but lacking the fire of the previous night, a perfect good morning kiss to start the day. “How long have you been awake?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know. Maybe an hour.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“Didn’t want to. I was enjoying holding you.”
She didn’t know why that last statement touched her, but it did. “How did you sleep?”
“Fine. You?” He smiled. He’d slept more than fine. She had positively worn his ass out. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d fucked as long, or as hard, as he had last night. Shayna may be little miss conservative doctor during the day, but she was a regular hellcat in bed at night.
She grinned. “Like the dead. I don’t even remember going to sleep. I remember you taking me from behind, and me coming again, then you coming…then nothing.”
He chuckled as he pushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. “If it makes you feel any better, I wasn’t but about a minute behind you going to sleep.”
“Good. I didn’t want to leave you hanging.”
He barked out a short laugh. “Hardly. I didn’t think I was going to be able to finish you.”
“Oh, but you did,” she cooed, touching his lips with a finger.
They lay still for many long moments, smiling at each other, kissing softly as they caressed and touched. “You need to save that for later,” she teased as she dragged her hand slowly off his hip and across his hard penis.
He chuckled as he swirled a finger around a hardening nipple. “Would you be surprised if I told you I was a bit sore this morning?”
She giggled. “No. Would you be surprised if I said the same thing?”
“Mmm,” he hummed as he moved in for a slightly more aggressive kiss. “I can go if you can.”
She smiled. She wasn’t so sore that she wasn’t in the mood. “I’m game.”
He pushed her over, settling between her legs, draping himself across her as he kissed her passionately. “Tonight, I think,” he whispered as his lips danced slowly over her face. “Today I want you think about how you got that way, and know that come tonight, we’re going to do it again.”
“We are?” she asked. You’re damn straight we are!
“Oh yes,” he murmured as his lips took hers again.
It took over two hours to get out of the hotel room, their ablutions taking longer than normal because they were unable to keep their hands off each other, especially as they showered.
“Where’re we going?” Shayna asked as they stepped out of the lobby.
“I have an old shirt in the bag on the bike. I haven’t done laundry in a few days so it should smell good. I thought we would drop it off for Harley.”
“Harley? Who’s Harley?”
“The dog.”
“His name is Harley?”
“It is now.”
“Why Harley?” she asked as they made their way to Beast’s hog.
“Don’t you think he looks like a Harley? I do.”
Shayna giggled. “You know, now that you mention it, he does.”
***
They pulled to a stop in the parking lot outside the clinic. The clinic is one of three businesses in a small strip mall, none of which were open, but there was a single car parked in front of the Lowerence clinic.
“I wonder if someone is here?” Shayna asked as she stepped off the bike and removed her helmet.
“Only one way to find out,” Beast said as he pulled the shirt out of the bag, a battered and faded t-shirt with the Harley Davidson logo on the back that he knocked around the house in.
She tried the door. It was locked, but she opened it with the key. The alarm was already disarmed, so she tucked the code back into her purse. “Anyone here?”
“Back here!” a woman’s voice returned to them.
Beast and Shayna made their way into the back of the clinic. “Dr. Shephard, Pete said you might stop by.”
“Darcy, please, call me Shayna. Conor brought a shirt for Harley.”
“Harley? That’s his name now? I’ve been calling him Jimmy.”
“Why Jimmy?” Shayna asked.
“Because Mandy found him out where she lives, off Jimmy Durante Boulevard.” She looked at Beast. “But since you and him have kind of bonded, I guess you should get to name him.” Darcy smiled. “Harley it is. But will you see if you can get him to eat again? He still won’t have anything to do with me, the little shit.”
Beast laughed, stepping up to Harley’s kennel. “Hey, Harley. Remember me?” It took some coaxing, and a biscuit, but Harley finally came to Beast. “You hungry?” Beast asked the dog as he held him. “Somebody give me whatever it is he’s supposed to eat.”
As Shayna held the can, Beast scooped food out and offered it to the dog. “Now you,” he said to Shayna after the can was half-empty. Shayna scooped some out, and Beast held her hand as she offered it to Harley. At first she didn’t think the dog would take the food, his eyes rolling in fear as she reached out to him, but Beast continued to hold her hand and after a moment, Harley began to take the food. It took three more tries before Harley would take it from Shayna without Beast holding her hand. When he did, Shayna whimpered softly, her eyes filling with tears. She knew then that Harley was going to make it.
“Now you,” Beast said.
Darcy stepped forward and scooped food into her hand. Beast held her hand like he did with Shayna. Harley looked at her a moment then took the food. She reached in the can, scooping out the remainder and Harley took it without protest.
Shayna had another can of food waiting, dumping it into a small bowl. Beast took the bowl, holding it until Harley began to eat. He didn’t eat much, but that wasn’t surprising as his stomach was already pooching out.
Holding Harley in one hand, Beast tossed the t-shirt into the cage, then lay Harley down on it. The dog got up and came back to him immediately. Beast picked him up, nuzzled him a moment then put him back in the cage, holding him until the dog lay down on the shirt. He slid the still almost full bowl of food into the cage and continued to scratch and talk to Harley until the dog began to fall asleep.
“You have the touch,” Darcy said, her admiration clear in her voice. “I thought Harley was a goner.”
“Nah,” Beast said as he slowly closed the door as Harley lost his battle with sleep. “He just needed somebody to understand him.”
“And that’s you?”
He shrugged. “Looks like.”
Darcy smiled. “Since you’re here, you want to stay and help with the rest of these guys? Maybe you can do some of that dog whisper stuff on them and make them hurry up and go to the bathroom so I can get out of here.”
Beat laughed. “Sure. I guess…uh-oh,” he said as his phone began to ring. It was the ringtone for DR Security. “Work. This can’t be good,” he said to Shayna as he pulled his phone out.
“Beast. Yeah? You’re shitting me! Anyone hurt? Fuck! Meet me at the office. As quick as I can get there. Yeah, I’m rolling now.” He hung up the phone. “Shit! I have to go. Sorry, Darcy, maybe another time,” he said as he turned, took Shayna by the elbow, and steered her out of the office.
“What’s going on?” she asked as he hustled her out to the bike.
“Problems. I’ll drop you at the casino. You can catch a cab from there,” he said as he stood the big bike upright and made ready to ride.
“If it’s that big of a problem, just take me with you.”
“Shayna, I don’t know how long it will be.”
“I’ll wait. If not, you have a car or something that can take me home, right?”
He thought it over as the bike barked to life. “Okay. Hang on. I need to haul ass,” he said before he revved the bike and roared out of the parking lot.
***
“Rach, take care of Shayna,” Beast ordered as they strode into the DR Security offices.
“Hightower, what’s going on?” Beast asked as Rachel led Shayna away.
“It’s The Scarred. They took a swipe at the Argentines.”
“Anyone hurt?”
“No. It was handguns, and they were already on the motorway. They rode up, took a few shots, then gave the bikes the Welly and disappeared. The Argentines are brassed off about it, too. I’ve kept the extra security on them until we can get them on the plane. We’re losing our ass on this job.”
“And you know it’s The Scarred?”
“Yes. They weren’t wearing their colors, but Hickman spotted Grizzly.”
“He’s sure?”
“Sure as he can be considering he was busy legging after they started shooting.”
Beast scrubbed at his hair with his nails. Something wasn’t adding up. “What the hell are they up to? This makes no sense! I bet they’re the ones who tossed the hotel rooms, too.”
“Probably.”
“But why?”
“I’m gormless,” Hightower said. “I can’t get my mind around what they may be up to.”
Beast sat down and Hightower followed suit. “Let’s think about this. What would The Scarred have to gain from taking potshot at the Argentines?”
“To slag off DRS?”
Beast shook his head. “Maybe, if they’d actually gotten to them. But we’re fucking heroes now. That doesn’t feel right. Does it to you?”
Hightower shook his head. “No, not really.”
“How about a distraction? Maybe a misdirection? They want us looking at the Argentines to keep us from looking somewhere else?” Beast suggested.
“Okay, but the Argentines are our only clients until Friday. They leave in the morning. What could they be doing on a Sunday that we would be interested in? And why toss the room?”
“Fuck,” Beast muttered. “We’re missing something. But what?”
“Bugger if I know. Maybe The Scarred are hired muscle for something else?”
Beast nodded. “Maybe, but who? And why?”
Hightower grinned. “Why are you asking me all these questions? I’m not Nostradamus, you know.”
Beat smiled as he shook his head. “I know. I wish you were. I could use the help right now.” He was quiet a moment, trying to piece together the puzzle, but finally realized he didn’t have all the pieces. “Let’s call Skellon and ask him what the fuck he’s doing.”
“Just ring up the President of The Scarred and ask him why he is taking shots at our clients? You must be mad.”
“Why? What’s the worse that will happen other than he’ll tell me to go fuck myself.”
Hightower raised an eyebrow. “You have his number on speed dial?”
Beast laughed. “No. But I bet it’s on file around here somewhere.”
***
Shayna had never been in a motorcycle clubhouse before, but she didn’t think the Desert Reapers clubhouse was typical.
When they arrived at the compound, Beast quickly typed in a number on the keypad that started the intimidating gate rolling aside. The compound was composed of two adjoined buildings. The larger of the two looked like a small warehouse with an office on the front and a large DR Security logo. It looked like any other small industrial building, and this was the building Beast stopped in front of.
The office portion was like any modern office. They passed through the empty lobby with the unmanned reception desk and entered the back part of the office. They passed a large conference room with an oak table and leather chairs, and an attractive woman wearing a wireless headset while flipping through a magazine at her desk. She nodded to Beast as they passed. When Beast called her, Rachel left her desk, her headset still on, and took charge of her.
“Right this way, Shayna,” Rachel said, leading Shayna away from Beast and the other man. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, no thank you.”
“Would you like a tour?”
She smiled. “You don’t have to do that. Just show me where to sit.”
Rachel grinned. “To be honest, I would enjoy the excuse to get up. Duty on the phone sucks.”
“In that case, I would love a tour.”
“Great! Right this way, then.”
It took almost an hour for Rachel to complete the tour, and Shayna was impressed. Rachel showed her the two conference rooms with the state of the art video conferencing equipment, the computer room where the servers that ran the Desert Reapers Empire resided, and the offices for the various administrative functions.
Finished with the office, Rachel led her into the warehouse where three white Mercedes sat in a row. Two of them were obviously worse for wear with shattered glass and several holes in the otherwise pristine white sheet metal. She wondered how the cars got so dinged up then remembered that Beast had said the cars were bulletproof, and she got a chill when she realized what had probably happened to the cars. She wanted to ask about it, but held her tongue.
The garage also contained a couple of nondescript SUVs and a van, also white, along with at least a dozen motorcycles, all Harleys. The rest of the large room was taken up with a car lift, large toolboxes, and what appeared to be an automated car wash.
“Would you like to see the clubhouse?” Rachel asked.
“Can you leave the office?” Shayna asked with a pointed look at the headset and mic.
“Oh sure. There is a complete wireless phone system in both buildings. The phones will work anywhere in the compound. This way.”
***
“Jack, this is Beast Boyd.”
“What do you want, Beast?” Jack rumbled through the speaker on the desk phone. He didn’t sound pleased.
“I have some questions and I need some answers.”
“What kind of questions?”
“Questions like, why did your boys try to grease one of our clients today?”
“You’re full of shit! We didn’t hit anybody. If we had you wouldn’t be saying we tried, you would be saying we did. I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, Boyd, but it isn’t going to fly with me.”
“No game. We had a positive ID on Grizzly.”
“Yeah, well, you’re wrong.”
“We’re not wrong, Jack. In case you’ve forgotten, Grizzly isn’t exactly popular around here. We know him when we see him. So I’m going to ask you again. What the fuck is going on?”
“And I’m going to tell you again, it wasn’t a club sanctioned hit. Why would it be? For five years we’ve kept the peace and it has been good for both of us. Why would we fuck that up now? Who was it we were supposed to have hit?”
“Some government officials from Argentina.”
“Why the fuck would we do that?” Jack growled. “There’s nothing in it for us. Your guy is either lying or wrong.”
Beast looked at Hightower who was shaking his head. “No mistake, Jack. You better get a handle on your men before we have to take matters into our own hands.”
“Don’t threaten me, boy,” Jack rumbled. “Just because we’ve stopped carving each other up doesn’t mean you can threaten me.”
“This is no threat, Jack. We’ve got a positive ID on Grizzly and I’m not fucking around. If something like this happens again, I won’t be giving you a courtesy call, got it? I’m going to give you the benefit of doubt that you didn’t know about this and it was unsanctioned. But either way, you’ve got some serious fucking problems. Get a handle on it, Jack, before we have to step in. Don’t fuck up a good thing.”
“Fuck you, Boyd!” Jack snarled before they heard the crash of a phone being slammed down.
“He didn’t know,” Hightower said.
“No, and that worries me even more.” Beast left the handset in the receiver and dialed Rachel’s number. “Rachel? We’re done here. Where are you?”
***
Rachel led Shayna down a short hall that was obviously the connector between the two buildings. About halfway down they passed a heavy door with the word Amory neatly stenciled on it before arriving at the door with the Desert Reapers’ symbol painted on the door. Rachel entered without slowing, and everything changed.
Gone was the conservative business décor, replaced with tile, chrome, leather and wood. The room was dim until Rachel flipped on the lights. The large room was filled with oversized leather furniture and a fully-stocked bar the equal of any she’d seen.
“Big difference between here and the office,” Shayna commented with a grin.
“Yeah. This is where we come to relax and blow off steam.”
“You’re a Reaper?”
“We all are. You can’t work for DRS if you’re not. Beast set it up that way. I think it’s a good idea.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because a brother will put his life on the line for another brother. That’s what makes us such an effective organization. We work hard and we play hard. We trust each other because we’re family.”
“And all the Reapers work for DR Security?”
Rachel laughed. “Not even close. The Reapers have over three hundred fifty active members. Only about thirty of us work for DRS. You have to be a Reaper to work for DRS, but you don’t have to work for DRS to be a Reaper.”
Shayna nodded, looking around the room. “Pretty impressive.”
“Not bad,” Rachel said with obvious pride.
“What do you do, beside answer the phones on Sundays?”
Rachel grinned. “I’m in charge of logistics. I make sure what the teams need is available, when and where they need it. Everyone in logistics has to take a turn on the phones if we have a team in the field so we can provide twenty-four/seven support. This just happened to be my day.”
“And you don’t mind giving up your Sunday?”
“Nah. One day or night every now and again isn’t a big thing. It’s worth it.”
“So you like working for DRS?”
“Yeah, but I like being a member of the Reapers even more.”
“Oh?”
Rachel moved to one of the big chairs and sat down. “Yeah. The club takes care of you. With over three hundred members, there is nothing you need that someone can’t do. We take care of each other. Like I said, we’re like family.”
Shayna nodded. She wasn’t sure what she expected from a motorcycle club, but the Reapers weren’t it. “How long have you been a member?”
“About three years. Before that I was a club girl when Animal was still President.”
“Beast’s dad?”
“That’s right.”
“Beast told me a little about him. His grandfather, too. His dad getting killed still bothers him.”
“He told you about that?”
“Not exactly, but it’s obvious. Why?”
Rachel looked at Shayna. “He doesn’t talk about it much. That was some bad shit. What Beast did, he probably saved a lot of lives.”
“He didn’t tell me the entire story, only that The Scarred killed his dad.”
“Yeah. Knifed him in the bathroom, the fucks.”
“Why?”
“Bad blood? Who knows? If Beast hadn’t…” Rachel shook her head.
“If he hadn’t what?”
“I wasn’t there, of course, but the rumor is after one of The Scarred knifed Animal, the clubs were about to rumble. Killing all the officers of both clubs? That would have been war, for sure. That meeting was supposed to clear the air between the clubs and The Scarred fucked us. The Reapers were finally out of gun running and Dirty Reaper Tattoos was beginning to franchise. The club was starting to make money legally, and Jack Skellon and Animal were going to make peace. There had been a lot of bad blood over the years, but the clubs weren’t competing anymore and it was the right thing to do because it would make things easier on everyone. Then one of those Scarred fucks shivved Animal. I’ll give Skellon this: he did the right thing and gave up the man rather than start a war. But rather than kill him straight out, Beast gave the man back his knife and told the Reapers, no matter what happened, it ended there. Skellon made the same pledge.”
“What happened?”
“The clubs cleared the bar and Beast and the guy, I think his name was Wade, went at it right then and there. Beast killed him.”
Shayna felt sick to her stomach. “How?”
Rachel smiled evilly. “Cut his throat.”
“Is that how he got his scars?”
“I guess. The guys who actually saw it go down don’t talk about it much either. It must have been fucking awful. I know Beast earned a lot of respect that day. From the Reapers for putting it all on the line and for taking care of business, but from The Scarred, too, for giving their man a fighting chance even though he didn’t have to. From what I’ve picked up here and there, it was damn close and it could have gone either way. If you can believe the stories, there was blood everywhere.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
Rachel shrugged. “Nothing to say. Beast did what he had to do. I know the fucking Scarred wouldn’t have done the same if the roles had been reversed. From what I understand, if it had been Bear in that room, nobody would have walked out and it would have been a full-scale war. Neither club would have likely survived.”
“What about Animal?”
Rachel shook her head. “Don’t know. He was trying to change the old ways, but he still had a lot of his father in him from what I understand. All I know is every man and woman in this club would lay down his or her life for Beast without a second thought. That’s how much respect he’s earned, and it started that day when he stepped up.”
“You like him.”
Rachel smiled. “Yeah, I do. He’s a stand up guy. He took a hell of a risk starting up DRS. A lot of the old timers bucked him pretty hard, but he pulled it off. Nobody questions him now. When he says, ‘Let’s do this, that or the other,’ everyone is pushing and shoving to get to the front of the line to help. He’s the one who changed the club bylaws to allow women to become full members if they wanted to, despite the protest of some of those stone-age fucks. He said that if we were doing the work, we should have a voice.” She paused then twittered out a laugh. “It doesn’t hurt that he makes my panties wet every time I’m around him…but you probably already know that.”
“Yes, well…” Shayna mumbled.
“What’s he like?”
“Like?”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “In the sack! Don’t tell me you’re not banging his brains out every chance you get. I would if given half a chance.”
Shayna flushed bright red. “I don’t know that’s…” she began, intending to tell the woman to mind her own business, but Rachel’s rapt attention and grin told her she was teasing. Rachel wasn’t unattractive with her long dark hair, full figure and blood red lips. “You don’t know?”
Rachel sighed wistfully. “That’s the only bad thing about working for DRS. It’s strictly hands-off. No office hanky-panky…damnit.”
“What about before, when you were a club girl or whatever?”
Rachel grinned. “Once. But I was so fucked up I can’t remember it, and he never came back for seconds. Just like my luck.”
Shayna snickered, but before she could follow up, she saw Rachel stiffen and touch the remote clipped to her shirt. “Right here, Beast. Okay. We’re in the clubhouse. I’ll bring her right over.” Rachel touched the remote to hang up then stood. “They’re done. But quick, before we get back, is he as good in bed as he looks?”
Shayna felt her face heat but she grinned, not wanting to let Rachel get one over on her. “Better,” she said with evil pleasure.
Rachel scrunched her face in comical disappointment and then grinned. “Damnit!” she snarled playfully.
***
“You ready?” Beast asked as Rachel and Shayna appeared. “You okay?”
“Yeah, fine. I’m ready,” Shayna replied.
He could tell that something was bothering her. “We’ll take a car,” he told Hightower as he turned and led her to the garage, opening the front passenger door on the undamaged Merc, then sliding behind the wheel.
“Rachel gave you a tour?” he asked as he started the car.
“Yeah.”
“What did you think?”
“Bigger operation than I thought.”
As he turned out on the road, he glanced at Shayna. All the life had seemed to go out of her. “Will you tell me what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she replied, looking out the side glass.
Beast sighed. “Okay. Would you like me to take you home?”
“Please.”
They drove in silence for several minutes. “Will I see you Monday at the tournament?”
“Of course.”
“Will I still get a rap on the table for luck?”
She smiled sadly as she looked at him. “Yes.” She paused, wanting to ask but afraid of knowing. “Does it bother you? Do you feel guilty for killing that man?”
“What man?”
“Wade?” She watched as his face hardened at the word.
“No. Thomas fucking Wade got everything he deserved. I gave him more of a chance than he gave my dad.”
“How many people have you killed?”
“Counting Wade? One.”
“Just one?”
Beast looked at her, his face hard. She might as well hear it all. She’s probably done with me anyway. “I was dad’s attack dog. When someone needed to have something explained to them, I was his go to guy. I would ride up, beat the shit out of them if required, and explain what would happen if they ever did, or didn’t do, whatever it was again. I was good at it. I know how to hurt someone, bad, but not kill them. I can fuck you up and put you in the hospital, but after a lot of time and a lot of pain, you’ll, mostly, recover. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“No.”
“That was my life. I’m not proud of it, but in an outlaw club, that’s how problems are handled. You can’t exactly sue someone for trying to scam you over a load of illegal weapons. Dad set me up to build my name, to make me the guy you didn’t want to fuck with.”
“Why?”
“Because it would go easier on me later, when I took over the club, if I already had the reputation of someone who could take care of business. The only way to get that respect is to earn it down in the dirt. When we were pulling out of the guns and going legit, people saw us as being weak, going soft. So when someone tried to fuck us, I was sent in to fuck them even harder.”
“What about now?”
“What about now?” he asked, not sure of what she was asking.
“How do you solve problems now?”
“Legally, of course. We’re a legitimate business now. My days of being an enforcer are behind me.”
She paused as thought. “Did you enjoy it? Breaking legs or whatever it was you did.”
“No, I didn’t fucking enjoy it!” he snarled. “It was a dirty, nasty, fucked up business! Why do you think we got out of it? Brothers going to prison. Brothers being killed. It was fucked up! It’s better now, but there’s too much history and I want out. It’s why I’m in this fucking tournament. I’m tired of people depending on me. I don’t want to be responsible for keeping brothers and clients safe anymore, or trying to make sure the Reapers have a future.” He paused, staring out the windshield as he drove. “I want to be responsible for only myself for once and not have to worry about anyone else. I’m tired, Shayna.”
He was hurting, she could see that. Beneath all that swagger and confidence was a man eating himself from the inside. “If you win, what will you do?”
He smiled wistfully. “The other man in the office today? That was Hightower Nethercott. Only he knows this, but if I win, I’m turning everything over to him. My last act as President will be to promote him to President then resign.”
“You’re pulling out of the Reapers?”
“I don’t know, maybe. But even if I stay, I’ll just be a member. No more DR Security, no more sitting at the head of the table. Maybe I’ll tend the bar.”
“But you don’t know what you want to do with your life?”
“No. Maybe I’ll raise goats or something.”
She smiled. “You do have a way with animals. Look at Harley.”
“Yeah.”
“When we get home, will you wait?”
“Why?”
She smiled. “I need a change of clothes for tomorrow.”
“You’re coming back to the room?”
“If you’ll have me.”
He sniffed out a laugh. “I figured you’d drop me like a hot rock.”
She touched his leg. “A wounded animal will bite, but that doesn’t make it vicious.”
“Are you saying I’m an animal?”
“Only in bed, and only in the best ways. Besides, isn’t your name Beast?”
He snickered again. “I’ll wait.”
***
“You okay?” he asked as they rode the suite elevator up.
“Yes. I’m just having a hard time reconciling the Beast I know with the Beast you were.”
He nodded. “It’s just me. I would like to say I’m a different person now, but I did what I had to then to help Dad drag the Reapers out of the shadows, and I will do what I have to now to keep it that way.”
She was nodding as the doors opened. They walked in silence to his suite. “Tell me about the fight,” she said as they stepped into the room.
“You don’t want to hear that.”
“I do. I need to know who you are.”
He stared at her a moment then turned to the bar and poured himself a glass of liquid courage. “You want anything?” he asked, stalling for time as he composed himself.
“No.”
He returned with a tumbler of scotch over a single ice cube. “We were meeting at Lucky Seven, a dive that was right at the edge of our territories. We had made the introductions and The Scarred had picked up our last…client. Dad had been talking with Jack and Jack agreed that if Dad would recommend The Scarred to our client, he’d take that as a sign of good faith.
“Our clubs were exhausted, Shayna. We had been at each other’s throats for years. We ran guns and they muled drugs, but their train was drying up as the cartels moved farther and farther up the chain. They’d been trying for several years to slice off a piece of the gun trade from themselves. We were always scratching and biting for customers, knifing each other in the back at every opportunity.
“Dad finally had enough and started pulling us out of the guns. Our last client was our oldest, and largest. Once they were in The Scarred’s camp, we were done. Dad made the introductions and recommendation as agreed. This was to be the celebration.” He smiled, his eyes far away. “The burying of the hatchet, and not in each other’s head, so to speak.
“It was tense as shit, but Skellon and Dad were trying to make it work. Dad kicked me in the ass and told me to mingle with The Scarred. Gradually things began to chill. Our clubs would never be friendly, but not being rivals was enough to start. We could build from there.
“I was watching Dad’s back and I saw him go into the restroom. When he didn’t come out, I went in to see if he was okay. The blood was the tipoff and I found him in a stall. A knife in the kidney.” He saw her wince. “Yeah.
“I came out of there and I was going to kill every mother fucking Scarred in the place. We, the Reapers, were ready to go but Skellon stepped in. I didn’t know who had knifed Dad, but I knew it wasn’t Skellon because I had been keeping my eye on him. He got in my face, screaming how this was what Dad was trying to avoid. Then he turned on his brothers, and told them that every fucker in the place was dead unless the man who killed Dad either came forward or was pointed out.
“Finally Thomas Wade stepped forward. Skellon took his knife and pulled his colors. He gave me Wade’s knife and told me to do what had to be done. He nearly had a riot on his hands, and he’d have probably gone down except we were there, ready to back him up.
“Wade had to pay for what he did. There was no way that fucker was leaving there alive. But I also knew that if I killed him outright, everything Dad had worked for, what he’d given his life for, would be ruined. Skellon would probably be stripped and we would be at war with The Scarred.
“I threw his knife down and told him to pick it up, and I got Charlie’s knife. I told the Reapers, no matter what, it ended here. They didn’t like it, but Hightower backed me up. Then Charlie, one of Dad’s oldest friends, did the same. When the Reapers finally agreed, Skellon gave his word: it would end there, no matter what.”
Beast took a swallow from the tumbler. “They cleared the room and we danced. He got me good a couple of times,” he said as he drew a finger along the path of his scar. “We were both cut to shit, rolling around in our own blood, each of us trying to drive our knives into the other while preventing the same from being done to us. I guess it was the blood, but he slipped and I cut his wrist. I must have severed a tendon or something because he lost his knife.” Beast shrugged. “At that point it was all over.
“He tried to keep fighting, but he was a strong lefty and having to use his right hand, he wasn’t shit. I stuck him in the gut, got behind him, and shivved him in the back just like he did Dad. Then I pulled his head back and cut that fucker ear to ear before I dropped that sack of shit.”
Beast drained the last of the tumbler. “Skellon kept his word. Nobody touched us as we left. I was so fucked up I couldn’t even ride.” He snorted. “Three hundred sixty-three stitches to sew me up. I looked like the fucking Frankenstein monster.”
“Sweet Mary,” Shayna breathed. Beast’s story matched up pretty closely to Rachel’s, but hearing the pain and sorrow in his voice made it much more real. “And you kept your word? You never hit back at The Scarred?”
“Yes. That didn’t go over so well, but we’ve kept our bargain and The Scarred have kept theirs.”
“No wonder you want out.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m really sorry for you. I wish there was something I could do.”
He sat the tumbler aside and offered her a wisp of a smile. “You’ve already done it.”
“What?”
“You listened. I’ve never told anyone the whole story before. I know the club mostly knows, but I’ve never talked about it. Thank you for letting me tell you.” He gave her another ghost of a smile. “And thank you for not running away in terror. That would have hurt my feelings.”
She smiled, the heavy mood broken. “No, I think I understand. If someone were to kill my father in cold blood like that, I would want to kill them, too.”
“But would you do it?”
She thought about it. “No, probably not. But I would want to.”
He nodded. “That’s why I want out. Every time I put on my colors, I’m reminded of what I’ve lost, why, and what I did.”
She rose and settled into his lap, kissing him softly on the lips before laying her head against his. His arms went around her and he held her, neither speaking, for a long time.