Page 20 of Reaper

“Nothing,” I snap defensively. “I didn’t do a damn thing to her.”

“Maybe you didn’t give her what she needed,” Nitro chimes in with a smirk, but his joke lands like a lead balloon.

“Cut the crap, Nitro,” Matrix shoots back. “We just survived a firefight, man. This isn’t the time for your bullshit humor.”

He’s right. Some of our guys are bruised and bloodied. Our sanctuary’s been breached by bullets, and now I get the sense they’re starting to doubt my ability to handle my shit. I glance around at my brothers. Each set of eyes reflects the same storm brewing inside me.

“Fuck!” I press the heel of my hand into my forehead. “Let’s figure this out. If she was in on it, why leave out the back? Why go into the forest? One of the Demon Riders could have easily given her a ride.”

“Maybe. Or maybe she wasn’t involved at all.” Matrix opens his laptop and starts typing. “Either way, we could have used someone with inside info on Blackstone’s operation at the ranch.”

“We need to find her,” Scar says. “Either to eliminate her as a suspect or use her for intel.”

“Do whatever you want. Doesn’t matter to me if she’s gone.” It’s a lie, but I’m sure as shit not going to tell them I already miss her.

“Check her credit card activity,” Scar commands. “She doesn’t have wheels or a place to stay. She’ll need to pay for something to get by.”

Matrix nods, continuing to punch keys on his computer.

I sit back in my seat, silently raging whiletrying to appear indifferent.

A low chuckle rumbles from Talon’s corner, mischief glinting in his eyes. “You’re lying through your teeth, brother. You’re torn up about this.”

“Fuck off.”

I shoot him a glare that could strip paint from the walls. Let them think whatever they want. They don’t know how I feel, and it’s none of their fucking business either.

Matrix’s fingers fly across the keys, a symphony of clicks that fills the heavy silence. The screen throws a pale blue glow on his focused face as he sifts through the digital debris for any sign of Lexi. I fold my arms across my chest, trying to look like I’ve got better things to do than wait for news about a runaway.

“Got something,” Matrix announces, turning the screen to face us.

Every set of eyes in the room locks onto his laptop. A credit card charge appears on the display. It’s for a motel down the road, the kind of dive that makes you check for bedbugs and hidden cameras.

“Shitty place for a hideout,” Scar mutters, leaning to get a better look at the screen. “Let’s roll out. We’ll bring Lexi and Ace back to the clubhouse and find out what she’s got to say.”

“Sure, now we’re a rescue party,” I grumble, but the protest falls flat even to my own ears.

“If she’s not in on it, then she could be introuble,” Matrix says. “You got to consider the kid, too.”

The idea that Lexi might need saving twists something low in my gut. If there’s even a chance that she and the kid might be in trouble, then I’ve got to act. What a fucking mess.

“You with us?” Scar’s voice is all business, but an undercurrent of concern is there too.

“Let’s ride,” I concede, feeling the weight of my brothers’ gazes on me. There’s no argument left in me, just the thrum of adrenaline and the need to find her before she takes off again.

“Time to saddle up,” Talon says, clapping a hand on my back as we head for the door.

The air outside the clubhouse is chilly, and the scent of cordite still hangs in the air. We throw our legs over our bikes in a synchronized dance of leather and chrome, engines roaring to life one by one. We line up like steel stallions, ready to race toward a rundown motel that smells like trouble.

Chapter 8: Lexi

Panic claws at my chest, and I can’t suck in enough air. The three men inch closer, their sinister smirks telling me all I need to know about my chances. Ace’s tiny hand grips mine with a trust I’m terrified I can’t honor. I feel him tremble, and it twists my insides into knots.

The men wear leather vests like Reaper and the others, but these guys belong to a different club, the Demon Riders. I’ve heard terrible rummors about what they do to women and children, but they’re going to have to walk over my dead body before I ever let them touch my son.

“Stay close to me, Ace,” I whisper, but my voice wavers, betraying my fear.

That’s when the thunderous growl of motorcycles shatters the tension. My head snaps toward the sound. Relief and hope flood me, bringing tears to my eyes. The men of Underground Vengeance MC roll in like a storm, engines snarling—Scar at the helm, flanked by Reaper, Matrix, Nitro, and Talon. The sight stirs something wild inside me. On a normal day, theymight be bad news, but today, they’re my cavalry.

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