Page 17 of Reaper's Ride
“So I can leave your ass here and take your bike.”
His guffaw startled a murder of crows, and they flew upward to land on the roof nearby.
“I swear to fuck,” I began, but he gripped my shoulder and turned my body to the left.
“I’m just fucking with you. Got you a loaner.”
At the edge of the parking lot, closest to the Tonopah Cemetery, a beautiful matte-black, polished-chrome Harley nearly sparkled in the morning light. She was fucking gorgeous.
“Damn. She’s a beauty. The club do this for me?”
He shook his head. “No. Me.”
“You?” I asked with disbelief.
He chuckled. “Yeah. From my personal collection.”
“Why?” What reason did he have to give me one of his bikes?
“Because she needs you.” His expression grew wistful. “Snooki deserves the best.”
I locked eyes with him, nearly growling. “Because you fucked her in the past?”
He didn’t laugh or smile. His expression sobered. “No. She’s a sweetheart, and she’s been through a lot of shit, put up with all of us members and our baggage, and she’s been neglected far too long.”
Neglected. That word again.
I grunted.
“You’re good for her. She needs you,” he repeated. “I think you need her, too.”
How the hell would he know that? “You don’t know me, Rael. Not a fucking thing about me.”
“Don’t need to. The Reaper knows.”
The Reaper? What kind of cryptic shit was that?
“I’ll explain, but first you need to talk to Grim. He’s got a proposal for ya.”
Since I wanted to talk to Lainey and she was at The Crossroads, it made sense to go with Rael, borrow his bike, and take care of business while also getting my woman.
“Keys.” I held out my hand, and he reached into his cut, handing them over.
“Don’t scratch her. I’ll get fucking cranky.”
Right.
“Lead the way, Rael.” I walked to his bike, sat on the seat, and started the engine, following him from the lot.
The gate opened as we approached the GBMC compound, and we parked in front of a massive building with various sections; the middle, obviously, was the bar and main clubhouse. Members were already working in the open bays of the auto shop to the left of the main entrance, and I scanned the long row of bikes nearby.
When I rose off the seat, I dropped the keys in my pocket since I would be using this bike until mine was fixed. Rael led the way toward the door, and we entered the bar and common room. The space was welcoming and comfortable, with leather couches, flat-screen TVs, pool tables, and, closer to the bar, several tables with chairs.
Along the back wall, a giant mirror reflected the patrons inside, bottles of liquor, and us as we entered. The mirror had been etched with the Graven Bastards name and logo, proudly showing off the Reaper. Of course, I knew about the logo, but when Rael mentioned the Reaper, he wasn’t talking about the patch.
I didn’t see Lainey. She wasn’t in the bar.
“Pres first,” Rael reminded me before gesturing to a hallway that tapered left. “Then your woman.”
