“Yeah. He’s a retired three-star general.”
My head might explode. “What did this general have to say?”
“That it’s fake. Stolen Valor.”
Fake? That doesn’t make sense. “Why?”
Bishop shakes his head. “I have no idea. But this guy didn’t act like he couldn’t handle the military. He was good. I’m better, but he had skills, formal training, most likely. It doesn’t make any sense why he’d wear some fake tattoo.”
Hmmm.
“Do you have any other information?” Havoc asks.
“Not now. But I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”
“We need to go say hello to our best friends.” Havoc nods to the screen where Reaper and the woman he’s ‘dating’ are walking towards the clubhouse. She wasn’t on the back of his bike, so that speaks volumes.
To my knowledge, he’s never had a woman on his bike except Rhys.
How did her husband get him to back off?
Bishop glances over. “Someone hasn’t killed Reaper yet? Too bad.”
It really is. I follow Havoc to the door of his office and into the labyrinth. There are no markings along the walls, not even a doorknob or emergency light. You need to know where to press to open each door. The only doors lead into traps.
Around and down, up and through to the left, back two hallways and to the right, which finally leads to the doors to the common areas.
Sync nods as we approach.
The noise takes a while to get used to as we step out. The common areas almost always have people. But not like this.
Most presidents and VPs are helping their clubs settle in outside.
We nod to the couple huddled in a corner with a beer in their hands. Deals and alliances will be made this weekend.
We make it to the picnic tables, where old ladies and prospects keep bringing out more and more food. Reaper is all over his ‘date’.
We aren’t prudes around here, but there are also little kids eating at the next table.
“Reaper.” Havoc thankfully has to be the one to sound somewhat civil.
“Well, if it isn’t Heartburn and his little sidekick Retching. How have you two been?”
Would it really be that bad to just shoot Reaper?
“We have your room ready, if you’ll come with me.”
Or I could just shoot him.
Reaper stands up, dropping the woman onto the ground.
A bullet would be too kind. I reach out to help her up.
“Don’t touch what’s mine.”
The woman shrinks back.
Surely, an exception can be made this one time. Though his request is an unwritten rule. The fastest way to die is touching another man’s woman.