Home > Devil's Game (Reapers MC #3)(89)

Devil's Game (Reapers MC #3)(89)
Author: Joanna Wylde

“Fuckin’ love my name comin’ out of your mouth.”

“I know,” she said. “I have a present for you.”

“Really?” I asked, pulling back to study her face. “What? Crap, that’s the wrong question. Why?”

“Maybe because I love you. Or maybe because you shouldn’t get out of this totally free and clear. So you have a choice . . . reunion sex—right here, right now—or you can keep that one special picture, so long as you never show it to anyone.”

Hellfire. And I thought the last one was a trick question.

“Can we got back to the getting-kicked-in-the-balls option instead?”

EM

“I still can’t believe you picked the photo,” I grumbled.

“Maturity is all about delaying pleasure to improve your situation long term,” Hunter said, grinning at me. “Love you, Em.”

I rolled my eyes. He’d said it something like ten times now, and as much as I enjoyed hearing the words, I was starting to feel like maybe we needed a new topic of conversation.

It was getting dark outside, and we’d just passed through Post Falls. A nasty, freezing rain had started as we drove through Spokane, slowing traffic. I saw at least four cars in the ditch along the way—I’d never admit it, but I was actually kind of glad Hunter was driving.

I was kind of glad we weren’t fighting anymore, too.

Not only that, Kit had texted a couple times, talking about all the different foods she’d bought for our dinner tomorrow. We loved cooking together, and while it wasn’t the same without Mom, I never felt closer to her than in the kitchen with my sister.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” I asked Hunter yet again. “I know it sounds like a joke, but Dad seriously has a history of shooting my boyfriends. He says it’s an accident, but after the second attempt you start to wonder.”

“Your other boyfriends weren’t like me,” he replied without a hint of concern. “The fact is, I’m with you and that’s not gonna change. Picnic and I will come to an understanding. Don’t worry about it.”

I tried to picture how that might play out.

“If he asks you for six goats in exchange for me, you don’t have to actually buy real goats. He’d probably take kegs instead.”

Hunter snorted, then reached over, putting his hand on my knee.

“Don’t worry about it, Em. You said you’d give me another shot, so trust me on this one. I’ve got it covered.”

My phone rang. Dad.

“I swear to God, he can hear when I’m talking about him,” I said, rolling my eyes as I answered the phone. “What’s up?”

“Where are you?” he asked, voice tight. Well, crap. This wasn’t a friendly call to check up on us.

“We just passed through Post Falls,” I replied. “What’s going on?”

“I need you to come straight to the Armory. We’ve got a situation. There’s been another shooting, right here in Coeur d’Alene. We don’t have proof, but one of the Jacks has been in town for the past week.”

“Oh f**k . . .”

“What is it?” Hunter asked.

“Shooting,” I said, my voice terse.

“Give me the phone,” he demanded.

“Stop talking,” my dad ordered in my ear. “I’ll explain things to him in a minute. You will not tell him what I’m about to say to you, though. This is important.”

Oh my God. It was happening. Right here, right now . . . Things were falling apart between the clubs. Was I going to have to choose? I peeked at Hunter out of the corner of my eyes and swallowed.

“Give me the phone,” he said again. I shook my head.

“Let me finish talking to Dad,” I told him. “Then I’ll hand it over.”

Hunter nodded tightly, but I saw the muscles in his jaw clench.

“Like I said, come straight to the Armory,” Dad continued. “We don’t know that it’s the Devil’s Jacks, but if it is, you’re a valuable hostage. We’ve been through this before. I love you, Em. I loved your mother, too, so I know what it’s like to care about someone so much it hurts—I think that’s how you feel about Hunter. I hope to f**k he feels the same about you. But I need to get you away from him, get you somewhere safe until we figure things out.”

“Dad . . .” I whispered. I glanced at Hunter again and tried to think of how to say what needed to be said without kicking off the damned war all by myself.

“I’ll protect him, Em,” my father told me, apparently reading my mind. “I know you might not believe it, but I’ll make sure he gets through this alive, so long as he brings you home. If he gets hurt, it’ll be because of something he does, not because of who he is. I swear this, baby.”

“I’m giving the phone to Hunter now,” I said slowly.

“Promise me, you’ll come to the Armory?”

“I’ll let you know where we’re headed once we figure that out,” I replied, feeling my eyes tear up. Shit. This was happening so fast.

“Okay, pass me off to him.”

I handed over the phone, then watched as my man’s face slid into that horrible blankness I’d seen when he faced off against Deke.

“I understand,” he said. “We’re coming, don’t worry. I want her safe as much as you do.”

Then he hung up the phone.

“We’re going to the Armory,” he said, his voice almost expressionless. “There’s at least one shooter. I’m sure they suspect the Jacks—we know someone’s trying to start trouble in Coeur d’Alene. He’s not one of ours, Em. Part of my job this weekend was to hunt him down.”

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