Page 37 of Reaper's Rage

I can hear the aggravation in Puma’s voice, and I feel for him. He’s paying a tough price for all the women he’s had in his life. It makes me grateful for Ashlyn. I’ve had a few women, but nowhere near as many as Puma. I still get hit on because I’m a biker and some women just can’t resist the temptation, but again, nowhere near the number that Puma attracts every damn day.

“I could talk to her.” Scar offers. “See where her head is?”

Puma slaps Scar on the shoulder, and I have to swallow my chuckle when I see Scar wince. “Nah, man. We’ll figure it out. Can’t blame her for doubting me. Never had to convince a woman that I want her for more than one night before. I lack that particular skill set. I need the practice.”

Dante shakes his head as we step into the common room. I glance around, looking for Ashlyn, but I don’t see her.

“Women aren’t back yet?” Puma asks the prospect behind the bar.

“Not yet, Prez.” He replies. “Showtime called and said they’re almost done. One more stop and then they’re heading back.”

Puma nods as he pulls me over to join him at a table. “You and Ashlyn. Long haul?” Puma asks and I nod.

“She’s the one. I can’t imagine being with anyone else.” I tell him.

“Last time we talked, you weren’t sure about her.” He reminds me.

I shake my head and lean back in my chair, gathering my thoughts. “Not that I doubted my feelings for her, or her feelings for me. Being with me won’t make her life easier.” I tell him honestly.

“Fuck that shit.” Puma snarls. “Do you really think that matters to her? What kind of bullshit, prissy bitch, do you take her for?”

Most people would start running when Puma bares his teeth, but I know he’d never really hurt me. I just laugh. “That was pretty much her reaction when I told her my concern.”

“Look, she’s a smart girl. She knows what she’s getting herself into. The world right now is full of hatred pointed our way. Not only are we black, but we’re not exactly model citizens. You don’t think she faces her own trials as a woman in this world? Most men are wimps who hate themselves and hate their lives. Instead of focusing on improvements, they tear others down. You be the man to build her up and support her and she’ll give you that back and more. That girl is a fucking warrior, and you’re fucking lucky to have her at your side.”

Nodding, I give him a wide smile. “I’m not pushing her away. I promise. Flame wasn’t too happy about my being with his sister, but he’s cool about it now. He knows I’ll take care of her. That I’ll do whatever is necessary to make her happy.”

“Good man. I understand tomorrow is her birthday. You have something big planned for her?”

“Her twenty-first.” I tell him, grinning. “Made hotel reservations at 1%, including dinner reservations for the restaurant, Blacktop. Drinks and gambling are on the schedule.”

He nods in agreement. “Good man. Treat her like a queen.”

“That’s the plan.” I see Hawk glance at Puma to get his attention. “You guys taking off?”

Puma glances over at his road captain and nods slowly. “Looks like it. I hoped to wait until Alisa got back, but we gotta get going.”

“Good luck.” I tell him. “Go get the bastards.”

“It’s a good plan. We should be able to take them by surprise.” Dante says as he comes to join us.

I watch the guys take off in groups of two and consider riding out with them to make sure no one follows, but Hawk assures me they already have a plan in place to track the guys and monitor their progress. With Ashlyn still out, I head to my room to relax and wait for her.

The room I have at Puma’s club is similar to the one I have in San Diego. Meaning, it lacks personality. But no one uses it when I’m not around. When I left the Spades, I stayed here for four months before returning to San Diego to prospect for Dante. I haven’t been back since the day I left for San Diego.

I open the closet to see if I can find something to wear for Ashlyn’s birthday. While I primarily wear jeans and t-shirts now, I used to dress better when I ran with the Spades. I had the money to splurge on clothes. Deion liked to hit the clubs, so I had some fancy threads. Being part of the Demons, I traded my silks for cotton and never looked back. I paw through the clothes and it feels like I’m looking through a photo album. Images of nightclubs and late night parties flicker through my memory. I pull out a few suits and try them on. Some are too snug, seeing as I’ve bulked up since I last wore them, but luckily I find a black suit with a royal blue silk shirt to wear underneath. I skip the tie, because who willingly wears a noose around their neck?

I hang the suit back up and, as I’m closing the door, I spot a black duffle bag on the floor. Since I don’t recognize it, I grab it. Memories flood through me as soon as I zip it open. The sound of two gunshots coming from inside what was supposed to be an empty house. The door flying open as the kid stumbles out. On his face is a mixture of anger and fear as he pushes toward my car. He gestures me back when I move to help him, even as he stumbles against the passenger door. Another gunshot draws my attention to the house. I see a man standing with his gun aimed at the kid’s back. I shoot at him to cause a distraction, allowing the kid enough time to slide into the front seat. I slam my foot on the accelerator and haul ass down the residential street, tires squealing as I take the corner hot.

Fuck.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: ASHLYN

When we arrive back at the clubhouse, we find the place almost empty. The prospect behind the bar is chatting with Hawk, the Road Captain, and Spark, their tech guy. But we don’t see anyone else. None of the guys from San Diego are around, not even Reaper.

“Where is everybody?” I ask Hawk.

“On their way to Chicago.” He responds. “They all made it to the plane with no incidents.”

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