Page 8 of Reaper

“No. I’ll be out in a second.” I hang up.

Standing, I head back toward the door. Larry is one of the prospects guarding the gate. When he called, I abandoned the sweetbutt I had dancing up on me to take his call. I never anticipated some chick showing up at the gate.

She better not be claiming to be pregnant with my kid. I’ll fucking kill the next bitch that tries that shit on me.

She said Kingston.

No one calls me by that name. Hell, other than law enforcement, I don’t think anyone even knows me by Harrison Kingston. It’s Reaper to them and has been since I was eighteen years old. Not all of the guys here know our legal names, but some of them do. It’s a necessity in case any of us gets locked up.

Still, it bothers me that she used that name.

“Coming back for more,” Daniela, the sweetbutt from earlier, calls.

I shake my head. “Business. Wrath and Colt. You’re with me.”

My sergeant at arms and vice president jump up, ignoring the complaints from the girls.

As soon as we are clear of the clubhouse, Colt whispers to me, “What have we got?”

“A girl claiming to need to see me.”

He chuckles. “You want a group thing? Gang bang her?”

I smack his chest. “She used my government name.”

His laughter dies.

“Fuck,” Wrath mutters.

“Yeah. Stay vigilant. I’m not trusting that this isn’t a set up.”

Once we are through the gate, Larry walks over to me.

“She’s about one hundred yards out. I haven’t let her any closer.”

I nod. “Tell her to come here. I want to see her in the light.”

“Alright, miss. You can walk over here now,” Larry hollers.

As she walks closer, I try to place her. It’s not until she’s in the light that I get a real good look at her.

Her blonde hair is pulled out of her face, showcasing the lump on her temple that is already turning a nasty shade. She has quite possibly the saddest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. Her lip is bleeding as well, but I don’t think she even notices. Her arms are wrapped around her middle as she limps toward us.

Someone did a number on this girl.

The question is, why did she come here?

“Who sent you?” Wrath asks.

When she looks up, she takes us each in. No recognition hits her face when her eyes pass over me.

Who is she?

“No one. I need help. I need to see Kingston.” Her voice is raspy.

There’s the proof that she has no idea who I am. So how did she get my name?

“What business do you have with him?” I ask.

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