Page 40 of Reaper
After a few moments, King gives a curt nod, and I head out the door. Whatever they have on me, I’ll fight it until I can make sure Paris is safe and Nikita is dead. After I’ve taken care of her, I have no problem meeting my fate. It’s about time.
Paris
It’sbeenalmosttwoweeks since I’ve seen Logan, and nobody is telling me what the hell is going on. At first, when he didn’t come back after King called Church, I assumed he had something to take care of for the club or that his disappearance had to do with Nikita. But now I don’t know. Logan might be dead for all I know which causes me a pain I’ve never felt before. We aren’t in a relationship or anything and the tension in the clubhouse is suffocating, but I will do anything to know if he’s alright.
Yet two weeks later with no word from anyone, not even Saint, who has taken it upon himself to look after me since Logan isn’t around. They’re keeping whatever’s going on from me. I don’t fucking like it. Anytime I ask, some stupid excuse is given, like he’s on a run or it’s club business. I don’t even know what the hell a run is, and nobody cares to explain it to me to keep my mind at ease. I don’t like being kept in the dark.
I’ve ventured out of the room a few times since Logan’s disappearance and of course, I’m the center of attention. Most of the guys only show I exist with a nod of their heads, and thewomen or who they call the club whores stay away from me like I have the plague. Although, I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve put these men in an impossible position that may cost them their lives. And the women, well I guess they see me as competition, which I’m not. They are free to screw whoever they want without any objection from me.
“Screw it,” I mumble. “Somebody’s going to tell me something, goddamn it.”
I storm out of Logan’s room, and down the stairs, determined to get some answers this time. Everyone can’t keep lying to me or keep me out of the loop. I may be an outsider, but Logan is just as important to me as he is to them. I deserve to know what’s going on.
Once I reach the bottom of the stairs, it’s like every eye in the room shifts to me. Conversations stop abruptly as icy glares, as well as pity filled stares, are thrown my way, making me feel like an intruder. An outsider.
I hate being the center of attention.
However, I shove the unwanted feelings to the back of my mind, trying to ignore the anxiousness of being where I’m not wanted to the back of my mind. Regardless of what people think about me, my priority is surviving and finding out what happened to Logan.
My eyes dart around the room, searching amongst the men and women who are in the middle of screwing each other, getting drunk, and playing pool, but the person I need to speak with, isn’t here. So, I head straight for his office. I know where it is because when Logan brought me here after the attack on his penthouse, this was the first place we went. Instead of feeling welcome, it felt like a goddamn interrogation. I told him everything I remembered, and King still pressed me like I was the one lying.
When I reach the door of his office, I knock once then push it open, not waiting for him to tell me to come in. I know I might be overstepping but it’s not fair to treat me the way they are treating me. Maybe I’m not the guest they want, but I’m not some pariah either.
Saint’s voice trails off, and King’s glare is sharp enough to cut glass. Although my nerves are twisting my stomach into knots, I push through it and let my anger rise to the top instead of leaning into my fear. It’s time for me to stand up for myself.
“Can I help you, Paris?” King asks, leaning back in his chair with his brow arched.
He has an arrogance about it that grates on my nerves. I guess that comes from being in leadership of a bunch of men, but I’m not one of his men and I’m not one of the women here that’ll bow to everything he says. Just as soon as this situation is done with the Petrovs, he will not have to worry about ever having to see me again.
I close the door behind me with a soft click, walk to his imposing desk, and take a seat beside Saint in the worn leather chair. “Where’s Logan?”
King tilts his head as his gaze bores through me. “Logan is taking care of something for the club right now. Can I help you with something?”
Irritation blankets his face, but I don’t care. I want answers and with the hierarchy around here, I know he’s the only one that will give them to me.
“I don’t believe you, King. And I don’t like being kept in the dark. Where is Logan?”
He goes to speak, but I toss my hand up in the air stopping him. Saint snorts and King’s irritation deepens.
“Look, I know you don’t like me. I get it, but I don’t mean your brother or your club any harm. I just want to know where he is and if he’s safe.”
“What I feel about you is irrelevant at this point, Paris.” King crosses his arms across his chest. “My concern is and will always be this club, Saint, and Reaper. You’ve put everyone in the middle of a shitstorm that didn’t have anything to do with us.”
“You think I don’t know that?” I pinch the bridge of my nose, then release a breath. “I told him to let me walk away that night and I would handle it myself. He’s the one who refused.”
“And you expect me to believe that you’re innocent in all this?” King says, leaning forward and planting his arms on his desk. “Maybe something went wrong with whatever the hell you planned with the Russians, but Oleg wants you to stick with it and take us down from the inside?”
He sounds paranoid.
My brows furrow. “Why in the hell would I plan any of this, King? That makes no sense. I tried to kill him!” I lean forward, planting my forearms on my thighs. “You think I wanted to be given to the Bratva? You think I wanted to be Nikita’s whore, just so I could bring problems to your club? Un-fucking-believable.”
“Wait,” Saint says, with a deep frown on his face. “What do you mean you were given to the Bratva?”
I sigh, hoping my fury will dissipate if I tell them what happened to me. Being angry isn’t getting me the answers I want. I need to know where Logan is and if he’s okay.
I look between the two men. “He hasn’t told you anything about me?”
“He refused,” King says. “All we know is that you attacked Nikita.”
