Reaper's Fire
Her nostrils flared.
“Nobody uses Talia Jackson,” she hissed. “I talked to Marsh. I know what happened, and I swear to God, you’ll pay for what you did. All of you will pay!”
“Whatever,” I said, turning back toward the bar. With a screech she jumped me from behind, wrapping both arms around my neck, squeezing tight enough that my vision started to blacken. Fucking cunt. I elbowed her and she dropped as I spun to face her.
“Jesus!” someone shouted. “Call the cops!”
Great, exactly what I needed.
“Talia, don’t be an idiot,” I told her, thankful that I had more than my fair share of experience dealing with female drama from the strip club. “You can’t fight me and you have no place here.”
“This is my town. Mine. When Marsh gets back—”
“Marsh isn’t coming back,” I said bluntly, reaching for my wallet. Keeping a close eye on her, I opened it and pulled out five hundred-dollar bills, holding them out to her. “Take the money and leave. You’re young—there’s no reason this needs to be your life.”
She snatched the money out of my hand, baring her teeth. “I’m not some fucking whore you can pay off. I’ll make you pay. I’ll make both of you pay! That cunt of yours is nothing, you hear me? Nothing. She can’t do what I do. She’s got a stick up her ass so high that—”
A siren blipped, and we both looked up to see a cop car pulling up to the curb. Talia’s eyes widened, and then she took off running. I stared after her, sighing heavily.
Tinker doesn’t deserve this.
Fuck.
The same cop I’d seen the night before at Tinker’s place got out of the car, looking after Talia as she ran. Then he glanced at me and I shrugged.
“We have a problem here?” he asked, looking over my MC colors nervously. We knew the local police were in bed with the Nighthawks, but I wasn’t a hundred percent sure that they knew about the shift of power. I shook my head.
“She’s pissed that I’m dating someone new,” I said. “Went after my girl inside—Tinker Garrett—and when I hauled her out, she attacked me in the parking lot.”
“That’s true,” someone said, and I looked over to find a gaggle of watchers.
“She went crazy,” a woman said, holding up her phone. “I got the whole thing on video if you want to see it.”
The cop shot me another look, then walked over to the woman, to take a look at the phone. I heard the faint, tinny sounds of the video as he watched. The recording ended, and he glanced back toward me.
“I’ll need to talk to the folks inside, and get a statement from everyone,” he said.
“I’m not interested in pressing charges.”
“We’re not at that point yet,” he replied, eyes darting toward the Reapers patches on my vest. “Let’s go find Tinker and take it from there.”
He gestured for me to precede him into the bar, so I turned and walked back inside, all too aware there was an armed cop at my back. Never a good position. Then I stopped, because Tinker wasn’t at the table, just a stack of bills to cover our dinner.
Fuck.
I turned back to the cop and shrugged. “Mind if I check my phone? Looks like Tinker went somewhere.”
He gave me an assessing look, then nodded his head. I opened my vest so he could see inside, then slowly reached into the inside pocket to pull out my phone. Sure enough, there was a message from Tinker.
Double fuck.
“She’s gone,” I said bluntly. “Caught a ride home because of the drama.”
The cop sighed, swallowing. “Okay, let me talk to a few witnesses in here and we’ll see what they have to say.”
“Talia Jackson was being totally crazy,” one of the waitresses announced. Several other people nodded in agreement. “She just ran up to them and started screaming. Then she tried to attack Tinker, so this guy hauled her outside before she could hurt anyone.”
The cop sighed again, rubbing at his temples. “Okay, and nobody wants to file a complaint or press charges?”
He looked around, but nobody responded.
“All right, I’ll swing by Tinker’s place to make sure she’s okay, seeing as Talia’s gone. If Tinker’s fine, we’ll call it good.”
• • •
I wanted to trail the cop to Tinker’s place, but the last thing I needed was to come off looking like a stalker. Not only that, I wanted to cool down first anyway. She’d asked for time, and hard as it was, I figured I should probably give her some. I decided to ride out to the clubhouse to clear my head, seeing as I really needed to check in with Pic and the boys anyway.
Only took a few minutes to get there. Outside the building I found the usual line of bikes with a prospect out front to keep an eye on them, but these bikes belonged to my brothers from Coeur d’Alene.
“Pic inside?” I asked the prospect. He nodded, and I opened the door to find the men sitting around, laughing and talking. I took in the scene, spotting Picnic, Hunter, and Cord sitting around a table in the back having what looked to be an intense talk. Then Pic spotted me and waved me over.
“How was your date?” he asked, smirking. “Looks like it ended earlier than you planned.”
Rolling my eyes, I pulled out a chair and sat down heavily. Pic slid an unopened beer toward me. Popping the top, I took a drink and then set it down. “That cunt Talia showed up at Jack’s. Tried to attack Tinker, made a hell of a scene.”
Cord raised a brow. “You keep your shit tight?”
“Yeah,” I told him. “Got Talia out of there. Gave her some money and suggested she leave town. She talked to Marsh somehow—they’re out to get us, no question. Marsh made threats, too.”
“Marsh won’t be coming back, not for years,” Hunter said, leaning forward against the table. “I like that Dobie Coales guy—doesn’t blink, doesn’t back down. If he says it’s covered, I tend to believe him.”
“If Marsh gets out somehow, we’ll deal with him,” Cord added grimly. “Fucker sets foot in this town, we’ll put him in the ground. Still can’t believe it got to this. We’re lucky you didn’t take our colors and call it good.”
“Nobody wins if we lose good men who’ve been loyal for years,” Pic said. “And the brothers in prison are counting on us. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, but it’s not like you voted for him.”