Devil's Game

“Well, that was pretty good,” I said after a minute, sniffling.

Hunter grunted, lowering me to my feet.

“Glad it was adequate,” he said wryly, leaning down to kiss the tip of my nose. I pulled away from him, straightening my skirt and digging for my panties. Now I felt weirdly embarrassed.

“Um, can you turn around and give me some privacy?” I asked.

Hunter just looked at me, a strange expression on his face.

“No.”

Well, that was direct. I decided getting out of the alley was more important than exploring our postcoital boundaries, so I pulled up my panties with as much dignity as I could under the circumstances. Hunter caught my hand, tugging me back into his body. His hand slid into my hair again, this time the fingers gentle, and he kissed my bruised lips softly.

“That was f**kin’ incredible, babe.”

“Yeah. I know,” I said, smirking through my still-watery eyes. I must’ve looked like a clown.

Hunter smacked my ass.

“Don’t get cocky on me yet,” he muttered. “I’m not finished with you.”

Unfortunately, he was finished, because that’s when everything fell to shit.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

HUNTER

Em’s phone blew up first.

We’d just reached the bike when the first call came through. She dug it out of her purse and frowned down at the number.

“It’s Dad,” she muttered. “I wonder if he has radar that tells him I just did something he’d hate?”

She sent the call to voice mail, laughing up at me like we shared a secret, which I guess we did. But then the cell went off again. This time it was Cookie.

“Shit,” Em swore. “Do you think he called her?”

“Answer,” I told her, feeling uncomfortable. Things had gone way too well this evening—we were due for disaster. She nodded and took the call, and I knew it was bad by the way she gasped and swayed. That was when my own phone went off. Burke.

“Yeah?” I answered.

“We got a serious problem,” he said. “Mason is dead.”

“Fuck,” I said, keeping a close eye on Em. She’d started pacing with short, jerky strides. “I didn’t realize we were quite so close to the end.”

“It wasn’t the cancer that got him,” Burke replied, his voice grim. “Someone shot him execution-style in his own bedroom. His old lady found him. She was out of the house when it happened, thank f**k.”

“He was alone?” I asked, startled. Mason shouldn’t have been alone, retirement plans or not.

“No,” Burke said. He paused, and my stomach sank, because nothing good happens after pauses like that one. “He had two brothers with him, Tucker and Dob. They think Tucker’s gonna pull through. Dob was DOA.”

“Fuck,” I muttered. I glanced over at Em, who was dialing frantically. Whatever was going on there, it wasn’t good, either. “What do you need from me?”

“Get back to the house and lock everything down,” he said. “We’ve got three more reports of shots fired at different clubhouses, although no more injuries. This wasn’t just a hit. This is a declaration of war.”

“War with who?”

“Reapers or cartel,” he said. Em seemed to be arguing with someone over the phone. So f**kin’ pretty, I’d take her again right on the spot If I could. Damn. I hoped to hell I wouldn’t have to face off against her dad. “We figure it out, we hit them back hard. Plan on coming down tomorrow like we talked about, but take extra precautions to stay safe.”

“Got it,” I said, hanging up the phone. Em was still talking.

“Dad, I don’t know where Kit is,” she said. “If I knew, I’d tell you. For f**k’s sake, I realize this isn’t a game. Keep trying to call her and I’ll do the same, sooner or later she’ll have to look at her phone. She wouldn’t make us worry on purpose, but she’s probably busy right now.”

She paused again, giving me a quick look.

“She’s busy having sex, Dad,” she muttered. “No, I’m going home right now. And don’t send someone to get me—I have a ride.”

She fell silent again, and my stomach churned. If the Reapers were behind this, wouldn’t they have gotten her safe before it went down? Picnic wouldn’t risk his girls, I decided. And I couldn’t see them pulling off something this big without him on board.

Had to be the cartel.

“I’m with someone,” Em was saying. “He can give me a ride. Honest, it’s safe. He’ll protect me.”

Her eyes met mine. Then she took a deep breath and answered the question I couldn’t hear but I could sure as shit guess at.

“I’m with Hunter, Dad,” she said. Fire didn’t explode out of the phone, which kind of surprised me. I did hear yelling, and then Em’s face tightened.

“Deal with it,” she snapped. “He’ll keep me safe and give me a ride. But only if you promise the guys at Cookie’s house won’t do anything to him. Otherwise I’ll go to a hotel . . . I’ll get myself safe, but I won’t tell you where I am. I won’t let you use me to find him or hurt him.”

Something tightened in my chest and I couldn’t breathe for a second. I felt a surge of possessive pride in my girl. I wanted to grab her, kiss her hard, and then f**k her up against another wall. Or pretty much anywhere else, for that matter—the list of places I’d fantasized about doing her was nearly endless. She gave a frustrated growl, hanging up the phone.

“Things aren’t so good at home,” she said with quiet understatement. “I don’t want to be a hassle, but I think we need to find a hotel room.”

Normally I’d consider that was a great f**kin’ idea, but tonight was anything but the usual. She needed to be under guard. Much as I hated to admit it, right now the Reapers were her best bet for protection.

“Give me the phone.”

She shook her head.

“Em, give me the f**kin’ phone,” I growled. “I don’t know what’s happening on your end, but a bunch of my brothers got shot up in the last hour and two of them are dead. I don’t have time to argue with you or find you a goddamned hotel when you should be with your club. I want you safe so I don’t have to worry about you.”

“We lost a brother in Boise tonight,” she said slowly. “Dad wants me locked down. They think it was Jacks, Liam . . .”

My name on her lips twisted something up inside my chest. Looking back, I think that’s the instant I made my decision. I wasn’t going to give her up. Ever. I’d die first.

“It wasn’t the Jacks,” I told her. We’d have to talk about “us” later. I needed time to think, and I wanted her ass off the street. For once, I agreed with Hayes. “Please, Em. Let me talk to him.”

She shook her head slowly, but she handed over the phone and I hit the callback button.

“Baby, we don’t have time to argue,” Picnic said.

“It’s Hunter.”

Silence.

“What are you doing with my daughter?” he demanded, his voice like ice. He didn’t give anything away, but he had to be scared for his children. Last time we’d talked like this, I’d threatened to kill her. Hell, I completely understood why he hated me after that. Sometimes I hated me, too.

“I’m trying to take her somewhere safe,” I said, my voice steady. Unthreatening, but not showing any weakness, either. “I think the best place—at least for tonight—is with the Reapers, but I need more information. We’ve got two men dead. If that wasn’t you, now would be a good time to tell me. My brothers will want blood.”

More silence. Then he spoke.

“It wasn’t us. We’ve got our own casualties. One dead, two in the ER. Someone took potshots at four clubhouses, including Portland. Care to tell me what you and your brothers were doin’ earlier tonight?”

Your daughter, up against a wall in a dirty alley.

Yeah, probably best not to mention that.

“The Jacks aren’t behind this. It’s the cartel. Has to be. Unless you know another crew we’ve both pissed off? Because someone executed our national president tonight, and fingers are already pointing your direction.”

“Fuck me . . .” Picnic said slowly. Silence fell between us as we processed the situation. “You playin’ games with me?”

“I wish to hell this was a game,” I said. I reached out and pulled Em into my side, eyes sweeping the street for danger. I wanted her behind walls. “I want to take her home, Pic. Only way that happens is if you give me safe passage. No f**kin’ way I’m letting her go to a hotel without protection, so if I can’t take her to her people, she’ll be staying with me.”

“She with you voluntarily?”

“Yup,” I replied.

“Shit,” he muttered. Then he sighed. “Daughters are a curse. The other one isn’t even answering her phone . . . At least Em’s safe right now, although I hate to give you credit for that. Can’t say the same about Kit.”

“We’re in the open here,” I told him, losing patience. “No reason they’d know where I am, but I’m not comfortable just standing on the street. Tell me where to take her.”

“Bring her to Cookie,” Picnic said. “I’ll call Deke, he’ll make sure you get in and back out without trouble.”

About f**kin’ time.

“Hunter?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for protecting her. You get her home safe, I’ll consider it a personal favor.”

I felt a grim smile steal across my face. He wouldn’t thank me if he had any clue what I’d been doing to his baby girl fifteen minutes ago . . . Or what I had every intention of doing to her again as soon as I got her alone in a room with a bed. Little Emmy had a trip around the world in her future.

I shook my head, trying to clear the mental image. Damn.

“I don’t need your favors,” I told Picnic. “Tell me about Kit. You can’t get hold of her?”

“She’s not answering her phone,” he muttered. “Em says she took off with some guy, but she doesn’t know what he looks like. Fuck, Kit drives me crazy. Odds are good this prick’s got nothin’ to do with our situation, but I’m not gonna breathe easy until we find her.”

“My sister saw the guy,” I said. “Want me to have her call you?”

“I’d appreciate that.”

I hung up and handed the phone back to Em. Her eyes were haunted.

“How’d it go?” she asked. I shrugged.

“Hard to tell. Not as bad as it could’ve—he says it’s safe to take you home, and I believe him. He wants you behind walls more than he wants me dead. Let’s go.”

I swung a leg over my bike and she hopped up behind me. A true child of the MC, she didn’t think twice about climbing on in her little skirt. I kicked the scoot to life and we took off.

EM

Cookie’s small front yard was full of motorcycles. Like, full of motorcycles. Half the Portland brothers must’ve been there, which wasn’t a good sign.

Hunter still insisted on walking me to the door, despite the fact that two prospects stood in the yard eyeing him. In theory this was safe. Dad should’ve called ahead, made sure they knew he was coming . . . But walking into a Reaper stronghold with a Devil’s Jack felt like tempting fate.

Deke himself opened the door. He and Hunter were about the same height, although Deke’s build was heavier. Seeing them together, I was struck by how similar they were. Not in appearance . . . No, more in the way they held themselves, casually poised for violence, faces blank. I’d heard rumors about Deke over the years. They said he made people who caused trouble for the club go away. I glanced at Hunter with new eyes, realizing he’d never actually told me what he did for the Jacks.

Did he make people go away, too?

“Thanks for bringing her home,” Deke said, reaching for my arm. Hunter met his gaze, then took my chin and turned my head toward him. He leaned over and kissed me, slow and deliberate.

That kiss had nothing to do with sex. Nope, this was all about marking territory.

Dad’s head was going to explode.

“She’s here because you’ll keep her safe,” Hunter said. “Don’t know if Picnic told you, but we have our own problems tonight. I’m assuming we all got hit by the same crew.”

“Maybe,” Deke said, his eyes cold. “I find out you’re behind this, I won’t kill you fast, boy.”

Holy shit. Deke was scary.

“Night, Em,” Hunter said, ignoring the Portland president’s threat. He leaned forward and whispered in my ear. “I’ll call you later. Might not be right away, but don’t worry.”

Then he turned his back on us and walked back down to his bike. There was something almost cocky about the way he moved. Like he was taunting Deke. The Portland president pulled me into the house, shutting the door behind us. I tried to pass through to the kitchen, but he blocked me.

“Your dad know you’re f**kin’ the enemy?”

I swallowed, but I held firm.

“I’m an adult, Deke. What I do is my business.”

He crossed his arms and eyed me, something almost like disgust in his face.

“You’re a spoiled brat,” he said bluntly. “You and your sister both. I’ve never given a shit about that because you’re not my kid and you’re not my old lady.”