Page 12 of Reaper

"Hope you've got deep pockets, Road Captain." She steps back, already shifting into agent mode as more sirensapproach."Because I've got expensivetaste."

"Worth every penny." I swing onto my bike, signaling the crew to moveout."See you in Georgia, AgentMitchell."

Her laugh follows us onto the highway, bright and fierce andfree.I lost her before because I couldn't see past my ownpride to go ask questions.Now she's back, more badass than ever, and finally free to be exactly who she was meant tobe.

My Sandy. My agent. My future wife, if I have anything to say aboutit.

First, though, we've got to survive whatever's waiting inGeorgia.And convince my crew that having a fed in the family might not be the worst thing in theworld.

But that's a problem fortomorrow.Tonight, I plan to make up for five years of lost time with the woman who owns mysoul.

And maybe replace that chain with the ring it carries, right where it alwaysbelonged.

6

SANDY

Handler stands before me in his signature look, pressed suit, military haircut, and eyes that miss nothing as he surveys the Kings being loaded into transport vans.The desert wind whips his tie around as he flips through my surveillance photos, his expression unreadable.Just like the day he recruited me.

"Impressive work, Mitchell." He hands the photos back, his wedding ring catching the moonlight.I wonder if his wife knows what he really does, or if he lies to protect her too."Though revealing yourself to the Saints wasn't part of the plan."

"Plans change." I keep my voice steady despite the guilt churning in my gut."The Kings were going to out me anyway.This way, we controlled the narrative."

"And Reaper Hunter buying your cover story about protecting the Saints?That was just a bonus?"

I meet his gaze evenly, thankful for years of undercover work teaching me how to lie to the best.

"Having the Road Captain's trust makes the next phase easier." I watch Big Mike being escorted to a separate vehicle, hiseyes burning with hatred as he passes."The crew will follow his lead."

"Speaking of the next phase." Handler moves us away from the other agents, voice dropping as we walk between rows of confiscated bikes.The Kings' machines sit silent now, their chrome dulled by desert dust."Timer's been in contact. Says the Georgia shipment is confirmed for next week.Same players, bigger stakes."

My heart skips at Timer's name.Five years of working with him, feeding him carefully crafted intel about rival clubs while he fed us just enough truth to maintain his cover.All leading to this moment. Every late-night meeting, every "coincidental" tip about the Kings, every careful manipulation--it was all building to this betrayal.

"He doesn't suspect anything?" I try to keep the edge out of my voice, remembering how Timer had looked at me earlier, trying and failing to hide his concern about my relationship with Reaper.

"Still thinks he's playing both sides." Handler's smile is cold as he hands me a file.Inside are photos of Timer meeting with known arms dealers, GPS coordinates of drops that match our intelligence perfectly."Your 'exposure' today helps sell it.He'll think you're too focused on keeping Reaper safe to notice his real game."

The irony burns like acid in my throat.Timer, who just hours ago showed fake concern about the Saints, has been setting them up all along.And I'm doing the same thing, just from a different angle.The weight of it sits heavy in my chest.

"What about Reaper?" I hate how my voice catches on his name, how even now he has the power to crack my carefully constructed walls."The deal stands?"

"Full immunity for him and the core Saints crew, minus Timer, in exchange for your testimony." Handler studies me tooclosely, like he's reading every micro-expression."Unless your feelings are compromising your judgment?"

"I'm clear on the mission." The lie comes automatically, years of practice making it smooth."Timer goes down, Reaper stays free, and the terrorist pipeline dies with the Kings."

"Good." He hands me a new burner phone, sleek and untraceable."Because Timer's not the only one we're watching.One hint that Reaper's involved in the weapons trade, and all deals are off.I don't care how many times you've shared his bed."

The crude implication stings, but I keep my face neutral.Handler doesn't need to know that every kiss, every touch, every moment with Reaper feels more real than any undercover identity I've ever worn.

My phone buzzes. Reaper's name lights up the screen with hotel details, and something soft and warm unfurls in my chest before I ruthlessly squash it.

"He's not dirty." I pocket both phones, fighting to keep my tone professional."Trust me on that."

"I trust you to do your job, Mitchell." Handler starts walking away, his shoes kicking up dust that sparkles in the light like broken glass."Even if that means breaking his heart to save his life.Again."

The words hit like a physical blow, forcing air from my lungs.Because he's right--No matter how this plays out, it's going to break Reaper's heart.Maybe irreparably this time. The thought of his face when he learns the truth about Timer, about my real mission, about everything I've hidden... it makes me physically sick.

My regular phone buzzes again.

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