Reaper's Fire
“Maybe,” I said. “Better question might be whether she’s serious about me. Right now she’s a little pissed off. Apparently women don’t like it when you lie to them about who you are, and then fuck another bitch under their nose for weeks at a time. I don’t know how hookers do it—thought I’d lose my fuckin’ mind, and that’s the truth.”
Shade laughed.
“No, I’d imagine not,” he said. “This is why I don’t have an old lady. Too much work.”
“Fuck off,” Pic said. “You got no idea what you’re missing.”
That was my cue to call him pussy-whipped or something, but for the first time in a very long time, I didn’t feel like giving one of my brothers shit for keeping a woman around. Instead I had a feeling he was right. There was something there—something good—and I’d been missing out.
With any luck, I wouldn’t be missing out for much longer.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
TINKER
“You’re fucking kidding me,” Carrie said over the phone.
“I’m not,” I whispered, feeling sick to my stomach. “I can’t believe he played me like this. Nothing about him was real. Nothing! Why do I keep falling for guys who are liars and assholes?”
“Okay, yes—he’s a liar and an asshole,” she said. “But don’t beat yourself up too much. Brandon is evil, and you spent a decade of your life with him. Cooper—”
“His name is Gage.”
“Whatever. Gage is just a sexy asshole who got you a little hot and bothered. This isn’t a federal crime, although I’d like to throw out my vote for eviction one more time. If he lied on his paperwork, that has to be a good enough reason to get rid of him.”
“I can’t think about that right now,” I said. “God. He’s fixing the roof, Carrie. How am I going to get the roof fixed if I kick him out? And I’m supposed to take Dad to Seattle this week for his doctor’s appointment. My lawyer wants to talk, too. He thinks that maybe Brandon is pulling some kind of bullshit on the financials. Until now I haven’t pressed him for real, so we thought it was just stalling. But something may be really wrong there.”
“Stop,” she ordered. “Just stop for a second and take a deep breath, all right?”
Closing my eyes, I tried to do what she said, counting to ten while I inhaled. Slowly I let the air back out again, then repeated the process.
“How’s that?” she asked.
“Better,” I admitted. “I feel less like my heart is going to explode in my chest. I can’t believe he lied to me about having children.”
“He told you a lot of lies,” she agreed. “And it sounds like he’s full of shit on every level. But I think you should consider one thing—and I am not saying this to defend him, all right?”
“All right. What?”
“He doesn’t know you lost a baby,” she said softly. “And while I absolutely think he’s an asshole who deserves to have his intestines pecked out by buzzards, he didn’t set out to hurt you when he lied about having a family.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m forgiving him,” I said, my tone dark. Carrie laughed, and it wasn’t a nice laugh. More of an evil-queen laugh, with a side of maniacal genius.
“Oh no,” she said. “There’s no forgiving him. But he isn’t worth getting hung up on, either. How about this—I’m slammed with work during the day tomorrow, so why don’t you come over for dinner? We can laugh and talk and maybe throw darts at a picture of him.”
“I don’t have a picture of him.”
“No worries. I took one when he was working without his shirt the other day. Through the window.”
“That’s creepy.”
“Yeah, I know,” she admitted. “We’ve covered my stalkerishness before, so let’s keep moving here. We’ll throw darts at the picture and curse all men. It’ll be fun.”
“We don’t need to curse Darren.”
“Not unless he pisses me off between now and then,” she said brightly. “But if he does, all bets are off. So, dinner?”
“How about you come here,” I said. “I don’t want to leave Dad alone. You can bring Darren and the girls.”
“Twist my arm,” she replied. “You’re a way better cook than me. But the girls probably won’t come. They’re far too fabulous and adult to have dinner with us old people. I think they’ve got something planned with their friends. Just as well—they’d probably get creeped out watching us throw darts at a picture.”
“You’re the best friend ever, you know that, right?”
“Pretty much,” she said. “And I promise you—we’ll get through this. He caught you at a vulnerable time, but this guy is not a big deal. You’ll bounce right back.”
“And you promise this?”
“Money-back guarantee, baby. I got your back.”
GAGE
It was a tense ride out to the clubhouse.
The Nighthawks knew we were in town—they had to know. You couldn’t bring that many bikes into a place as small as Hallies Falls without people noticing, and the arrests down in Ellensburg the day before just added to the gossip.
A fresh wildfire had broken out that day, and while it was more than fifty miles away, even more smoke filled the air and tiny white ashes had started falling on everything. I’d never seen a summer like this for fires. If we’d been on a TV show, I’d have taken it for a sign that they were going to ambush and kill us all—it’d be a good show, too.
Seeing as we weren’t on TV, I’d be just as happy without the ambush.
Pulling up to the clubhouse, I spotted eight bikes. Not bad odds. Cord’s faction had four, and the others might be prospects or hangarounds friendly to his cause. Or not. What the hell did I know, anyway? Cody—one of the prospects, and not a particularly promising one—watched over them, his face paling as we pulled up, backing our bikes into line carefully.
Picnic strode toward him, followed closely by Hunter, and I watched Cody swallow.
“Prospect?” Pic asked, looking him over. “Gage, you know this one?”