Page 95 of What Lies Within

“I’m scared, Dig.”

His hand pauses, squeezing tight around the back of my bicep. “It’s okay to be, Mads. You had a hell of an experience. Nobody expects you to be okay after needin’ to do that.”

I sigh, fidgeting with a thread that sticks out from a torn section on the thigh of his jeans. “I’m not scared because of what happened with Sweetie.” Her name brings vomit to the back of my throat.Liar."I'm scared about what comes next." I pull free of his hold, shifting to the front of the seat so I can turn to face him. "Daddy tries real hard to keep this club from being pulled too far underground, but we’re getting buried anyway, ain’t we? Terry, Volkov, Atticus, and all the fuckers that want us out from between them. We can’t hold on forever.”

Yeah—I had a while to think while I knelt blindfolded on that floor.

"No," Digger says carefully. "We can't hold on forever. But none of this is for you to worry about." He offers a cautious smile and sighs. "Things will get rough, but the Reapers will pull through. We always do."

I recognize the doubt in his tone. Catch the confliction in his gaze as he frowns at the flames before us.

The truth is, we've balanced a precarious line between the gangland factions for years. Used our ability to navigate the roads—main and lesser known—with agility and ease to make a name for ourselves as the people who get shit done. You want something carted from A to B without anyone catching wind ofwhat or when? We're your people. You want something broken down and distributed to your employees across the state? We're your people.

But others have caught on. Kane's talked about it plenty of times, seeing the dollar bills in the young guys' eyes when he trawls the suburbs. The Reapers were once known for their brutality and lack of morals when it came time to get the job done. It was that fear that held challengers at bay.

And then Daddy took over.

I can't blame him for wanting change. It's not nice to walk down the street and have people push their kids behind their backs, for women to dart into the closest store, and for men to set their shoulders and never break eye contact.

It’s not a peaceful life when you rule by fear, but I’ve come to realize this past year or more that fear is what keeps the wolf at bay.

Alphas won't challenge another alpha without cause. But take the bite out of the dog, domesticate it, and make it a servant, and suddenly, alphas aren’t so shy about baring their teeth. Snapping at the heels.

Terry is an alpha. Volkov is an alpha. And Atticus Crow positions himself as one, too.

My father? He’s the dog that’s had the wild whipped out of it. Obedient and fair, he serves his masters, and his masters want what he has.

I love my father, but I understand why Turnip walked.

“Do you think he’ll be back?” I ask. Adding, “Turnip?” when I realize I've started talking halfway through my train of thought.

Digger shrugs. “I’d hope so, but then a part of me doesn’t want a man at the table who can’t be trusted to put the club above all else.”

“Who said he wasn’t?”

My uncle’s eyes snap to mine, suspicion evident in the narrowing of his smile lines. “What you mean?”

"I heard he walked because he doesn't like the direction the club has taken lately."

“Somebody’s been runnin’ their mouth more than they should.” He grumbles the complaint, rolling his jaw as he watches the fire lick over a log. “Turnip walked because he doesn’t like what your father suggested we do next.”

I tuck my knees up, shoulder burrowed against the back of the sofa, and give Digger my undivided attention. “What’d he say?” Hearing about this shit strangely keeps my mind occupied from the events of the day, and knowing club business has always given me the good kind of thrill that fills my lungs and warms my heart.

I want to be involved. I want the best for the Reaper name, our people, and our future.

I don’t care if women don’t sit at the table—most of what holds a club together happens between the sisters in a quiet back room anyway. Men may be the muscle, but the women provide the foundation.

"How much did you hear about what happened when Tyke went out this afternoon?"

“I know Uncle Fox is taking a dirt nap.”Good fucking riddance.“I know there was some shit go down before Daddy pulled the trigger. That’s why you all had a meeting after. And I know Kane thought it’d be a good fucking idea to choke the life out of my best friend.”

"Yeah." Digger rubs a hand over his head, ruffling his perpetually sleep-mussed hair. "I've had words with him about that. Won't happen again. He has to stay in line if he wants to keep his patch, so tell me if he gives you any grief, okay?"

"Sure." Visions of Kane spitting tacks at the probation bring a cheeky smile to my face. "Bet he's tripping over his bottom lip wherever he goes now."

“You betchya." Digger smirks, his face falling before he continues. "Terry's time has come to an end." He sighs. "The club needs him goneandthis fuckin’ private road idea of his.”

“What’s the road got to do with what he did to Rae?” I pull my knee tight against my chest. “To me? I don’t understand.”

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