Reaper's Fire

“She tried to attack me last night at Jack’s,” I said. “Do you think that’s what she meant?”

Sadie shook her head. “No, I think she was talking about something bigger. I don’t know what—she wouldn’t tell me. I don’t want to be around her anymore. I only went to see her because I’d left some of my stuff at her trailer by accident. She didn’t even ask how I was feeling, you know, after . . . this.”

She touched one of the bruises, and I winced.

“Have you been to a doctor?”

“Yeah, my mom made me go,” she replied. Thank God for that.

“How about the cops?”

“No fucking way. You don’t call the cops on a motorcycle club. Ever. They’ll kill you, Tinker.”

The sickening feeling in my stomach got worse as a terrible suspicion filled me. Gage had said his hands weren’t clean—what did that mean, exactly? Had he been part of this?

I had to ask her, but I was terrified of the answer.

“Did Gage—was he part of this?”

Sadie’s eyes widened, and she shook her head. “No way. I’m so sorry, I should have told you that part first. I just didn’t think of it—he was out there that night, but he wasn’t anywhere near when this happened. He even offered to help me afterward, but I told him no. I mean, I went into the back with them willingly, you know? It’s not like I was raped.”

“You’re covered in bruises,” I pointed out. “They hurt you. How is that not rape?”

“Because I said they could do it,” she replied miserably. “Talia thought it would be fun, and I’d already slept with most of them. I don’t know what I was thinking. Usually they’re pretty good guys, but a couple of them were tweaking, and Marsh was all kinds of fucked up. Wasn’t a good night. Talia said it’d be fine if I just took some more oxy, so I sucked it up and kept going.”

“That’s rape,” I said firmly. “I don’t care if you consented at the beginning, those are serious injuries.”

“It’s my own fault,” she insisted uncomfortably. “Look, I don’t want to talk about this, okay? I need to get back home. Just be careful.”

I wanted to tell her something. Make her understand somehow that she needed help. Take her to a crisis center. Something. But she was already walking away, her shoulders stiff and her spine straight. I’d need to do some research, figure out the best way to handle the situation. My phone buzzed, and I reached for it absently, pulling it out to find a new message.

RANDI: I can’t come today. Moms freaking about the evacuation warning and packing

Fuck.

There went my chances of getting the orders done today. Squinting, I looked up at the skies again. The smoke was getting worse.

ME: Ok. Keep me posted and stay safe

Walking back into the kitchen, I turned on the TV. It was a Seattle station, but hopefully they’d still have updates. As a reporter spoke, images of giant planes flying through the air and dumping clouds of red powder on the town of Chelan filled the screen. I could see massive flames licking across the tops of the hills beyond the houses.

The governor has called for a state of emergency as the Chelan Complex fires continue to grow. Much of the Okanogan and Methow regions are under evacuation alert, with firefighters around the region flocking to assist as they try to save the town of Chelan. As of yesterday, the fires were nearly twenty-five percent under control, but flare-ups during the night led to officials reducing that to less than five percent. No reports yet on how many buildings have been burned. We’ve been told that they won’t be able to make a full assessment until the fires die down.

Wow. That was scary as hell. The newscaster continued:

Just a reminder—as of right now, the Chelan area is under full level-three evacuation, which means leave your home immediately. Don’t take the time to pack or prepare first, because there isn’t time. We’re being told that in some areas, emergency services may not be able to respond within an evacuation area if you choose not to leave, so we’re urging you—if a full, level-three evacuation is called for your area, you need to leave immediately. Fire danger is real and imminent. A level-two notice means evacuation could happen at any time, so if you get a level-two notice, start packing the car and be ready to leave. Level one means you should be aware, but that evacuation is not imminent.

“Hey.”

I looked to find Gage standing in the kitchen doorway, frowning. “It’s getting worse.”

“Yeah, it is,” I said. “I think I might cancel Dad’s appointment in Seattle tomorrow. We’d have to drive right through where they’re evacuating. Not sure I’m up for that. I’ll still send them the paperwork, but I don’t think travel is a good idea.”

“We’re canceling the party, too,” he said, walking over to pull me into his arms. His smell surrounded me, and I thought again about poor Sadie. “Nobody likes the idea of the women driving over through this. Visibility is shit and they’re shutting down highways all over the state.”

“Gage, did you know that the Nighthawks hurt Sadie Baxter?” I asked. He sighed, sounding tired.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “She went into the back of the clubhouse with a bunch of them, and then I found her outside later, crying. I offered to help her, but she didn’t want anything to do with me. Haven’t seen her since I got out of jail.”

“She’s covered in bruises. Did you hear her screaming or anything?”

He shook his head. “No—and I’d have noticed. She went back of her own free will, although I think Talia pressured her. It was a bad night. Marsh was out of control toward the end there. Drugged up, paranoid, and crazy as fuck. I told her to stay away from them, but some women . . . you can’t make a woman respect herself. Sometimes it takes something really bad for them to leave the life. Maybe this will be enough to convince her.”

Settling into his arms, I sighed. “I don’t like your world very much.”

“Tinker, look at me.”

Tilting my head, I caught his gaze.

“That’s not my world,” he said firmly. “There are bikers who beat their women, no question. I’m not one of them, and we don’t tolerate that shit at our clubhouse, either. If a woman wants to pull a train, fine. Some of the guys are into that. I don’t much care for sloppy seconds, but whatever. We don’t rape and beat little girls, though. There’s a reason I came to town, and it was because Marsh and his men were out of control. The only Nighthawks left are the ones who weren’t there that night, got me?”