Page 79 of Reaper Razed

“Wedding? Coffee shop?”

“Ah, you’ve missed out.” So I fill him in, and we chat about all the work that we’ve done, and actually, it’s not so bad. It is freaky how alike he and Ray are. Their attitude and mannerisms are very similar, but Bran and Dane are so similar to her, too, so it could just be learned behaviour. I get a text back from Ray saying it’s okay for him to wait. Well, that’s what I tell him anyway.

Husband: Hey, baby. Cade’s here. He wants to wait for you to come back. Is that okay?

Wife: I don’t give a flying fuck what he wants. He’ll have a fucking long wait. I’ll be back when I’m back.

Wife: Maybe tell him to hold his breath and await my fucking return.

Wife: Better still tell him to fuck off onto the balcony and come back in when he sees a fucking pig flying.

Wife: Love you. xx

Husband: Love you too. x

Skye

We’re sitting on the sofa, getting ready to leave, when the door opens, and Dane walks in.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Ray tosses over her shoulder at him.

“Life!” he huffs as he stalks towards the bathroom.

“Where are we going, anyway?” I ask Ray, as she just said to get ready, and when I went to grab breakfast, she said we were getting it while we were out.

“Secret.”

“Why?”

“Because I can.”

“That makes no sense.”

Her phone chimes, and she looks down at it. “Come on. We're ready.”

As we descend the stairs, Demi, Scar, and Beauty are waiting by Steel’s truck.

“Let’s do this.” Ray cups her hands around her mouth and bellows.

“Wait. Skye.” I turn towards the clubhouse as Dice comes jogging along with a large manila envelope.

“What’s this?”

“You might need it.” He winks. But as I go to open it, he drops his hand onto mine. “Later, you can open it at breakfast.” I nod and climb into the passenger seat of the truck.

“Right. Do I get to know where we’re going now?”

“Girls’ day!” They squeal like teenagers, and I’ve never had a girls' day even though I don’t know what one is and I don’t know what that means, but I find myself squealing too.

We pull up outside this nice bistro in Ravenswood and head inside. Once we’ve ordered, Ray taps the envelope.

I pull it open. There are five envelopes in there, so I tip them on the table. They’re all numbered between one and five.

“Go on, open the first one.” Scar claps.

I open it; it’s an invite.

You are invited to celebrate

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