Page 64 of Reaper

“That’s not the kind of ride I was talking about.” He chuckles. “Go. I have shit here covered.”

Turning, we start walking back to the clubhouse side by side. Neither of us says anything until we part ways.

“I’ll be back later.”

“Sounds good.” He nods as he breaks off to put the shovels away.

Rounding the clubhouse, I walk toward my bike.

“Hey, man.” Colt jerks his chin up.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“I’m riding out to the Cheekies. They are having an issue with the girls' private bathroom and the plumber can’t make it out there for a few days. Figured I’d go out there and try my hand at it.”

I shake my head as I rub my jaw. “You know, I never thought we would have so many plumbing issues with the private restrooms when we opened the place.”

Colt chuckles. “Right. Fucking baffling. What are you up to?”

“I was going to go for a ride.”

“Want to go with me?” he asks as he swings his leg, getting onto his bike.

Do I want to go to the strip club when I have the woman of my dreams inside? Hell no. Am I going to go? Yes. Not only do I need to clear my mind before I go back to my woman, but I need to keep an eye on Colt. What better way to do that then go on routine jobs with him. Maybe I can catch him in a lie or overhear one of his many secret conversations.

“Why not?” I tell him.

“Your chick won’t mind?”

Will she? Hell, will she even know?

“I’ll lead, you follow,” I say as I get onto mine.

“Always.”

We take off down the road, but the familiar calm doesn’t wash over me right away. Instead, my mind runs through all the stresses from the day. Could the man next to me really betray our club? I haven’t known Colt as long as Wrath, but when my dad brought him in, I accepted him with open arms. We learned the ropes of running this place together.

All the good times we had flashed before my eyes. Riding our bikes down the strip like the badasses we thought we were before peeling off so as to not get caught by the cops. Smoking weed behind the shed because Dad never wanted me to get addicted to any substances. Hell, he was there the first time a girl claimed I knocked her up. He’s the one who kept a level head and questioned her. Turns out, she was lying as they almost always are.

The hurt settles in my chest at the thought of Colt being our traitor. I’m not sure I’ll recover from that hit.

When we finally pull up to the club, Colt turns to me. “You good?”

I nod.

“Word of advice, Pres? Don’t let any of them touch you,” Colt says as he gets off his bike.

“You know I don’t touch the staff.”

“Yeah, yeah. Trust me, I’ve heard them bitch enough.”

We walk into the strip club and can instantly feel the vibrations from the music.

Looking around, I see that the place is busier than I thought it would be during the day. One girl is on stage hanging on the pole upside down.

“Hey boss,” the bartender says as we walk by.

“Hey,” Colt and I say in unison.

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