Page 37 of Savage Sin

The name REAPER pulls up on the screen. About fucking time.

Forty-five minutes later, I kill the engine, slide from my SUV, and clasp hands with a brother from another club. Reaper was a nomad who traveled all over after turning in his papers with the Marines. It took some time for him to come around to it, but he’s now the president of his own crew down south in Tennessee.

“You pick shitty meeting places.” I lean my weight back and rest against the grail of my truck and shrug off his comment. “A warehouse in the middle of nowhere is fine. You’re not scared of the dark, are you, brother?”

Like me, ripped jeans, a white T-shirt and a pair of boots similar to mine are about as fast as Reaper takes his fashion. His hair is longer than the last time I saw him, and his cheeks are a little fuller. Probably because of that cute wife of his.

“Fuck you, Rage. I have a healthy respect for your president, though.” Reaper swivels his head like just saying the god of war’s name will summon him from the dark corners of the building. I almost laugh at the thought.

“You owe me. I’m calling in the favor. It’s that simple.”

“Your favors are expensive. This one might cost me more than the job you did for me was worth.”

“You needed help off loading guns. I had buyers. How much was it you pocketed?” I scratch my head like it’s easy to forget thirty-five million dollars.

“I know what you did for me, asshole. Ares finds out I’m helping you when he’s tearing up the city looking for you…” He pauses. “He’s a mess, man. You can’t go on like this.”

Reaper is right. My club brothers are probably freaking the fuck out, but this is something I have to do alone. I have to keep the Savages as far away from this shit as possible. There’s no way we can fight the Bratva on one side and the cartels on the other. They would massacre us. I’ll handle this quietly and then explain everything after the fact.

“Look, man, don’t ask me to go behind Ares’ back like this.”

“I’m just asking for a couple of weeks. You got me? How did you get here so fast, anyway?”

“I can give you two days and then I have to put that man out of his misery. He’s tearing this city apart looking for you, in case you didn’t hear me the first time. Why are you keeping him out, anyway?”

I haven’t told anyone about my brother’s death for a reason. Someone ratted him out to the Colombians. And that someone is in the Savage crew. He had no business patching in as a Savage while he wore a badge. But he did. For me. And now he’s dead. My gut has never steered me wrong and right now it says I’m on the right track. My issues with trusting others are telling me to keep my cards close to my chest and do a little more digging.

Sure, Silas Antonov could have recognized my brother, But I have my doubts. It’s been years since the Antonov family has laid eyes on my brother. His younger self looked nothing like the man he grew into.

“Ares wouldn’t approve of my methods. I’m not exactly following the Savage guide book. I can’t prove it, but I have a feeling there’s a leak somewhere.” I give a little to see what I get back.

An odd expression moves over Reaper’s face like the man of death is standing at his back.

“What?”

He scrapes a hand through his hair and looks like he doesn’t want to talk. I wait. Reaper is a lot of things. We’ve done shady deals, buried some bodies and have secrets about each other we’ll take to our graves. I know the man. He isn’t the mole. He just needs a minute to weigh his options, but I know he’ll do the right thing.

“It’s Ghost, man. You don’t know, do you? Of course you don’t. You’ve been playing hide-and-go-seek.”

“Wanna fill me in, brother?”

“You split before it all went down. Ghost was orisa mole.”

“That so?” I cross my arms over my chest. “Did Ares kill him?”

Reaper’s face turns grim. “Not that simple. Ares’ family has his little girl as hostage. She’s just a baby. Six, I think. Fucking tears me up to think she’s in the hands of monsters.”

My mind trips back to my brother as a baby. The toddler he became and watching him grow up at my side. In many ways, I was his father, while our real father went on like he didn’t exist.

Resentment.

Anger.

Bloodlust.

All of my emotions border on sending me into a murderous rage.

From my experience, going off shot up with adrenaline and fury is a fast way to die. “They sent him to us as a mole or they kill the kid, right?” I know how the Antonov family works since my family served as their hired guns.

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