Reaper's Stand
Page 34
Maybe the Reapers would be able save Jessica, although whether they’d be motivated to try was a whole different question. I certainly couldn’t do anything more for her at this point, and the cops obviously weren’t an option. Assholes. If I got very lucky, Jessica might live. If cooperating with the Reapers raised those odds in any way, I’d consider helping them my new goal in life.
And if Jessica died?
Well, then I’d spend whatever time and freedom I had left hunting down the fuckwads who’d done this to us. I might be a crappy assassin, but I was a fast learner and I had a sneaking suspicion that Reese would be a hell of a good teacher.
Sound crazy?
Probably, but what other options did I have? The only ones who hadn’t lied to me or used me were Reese and his brothers, and we shared a common enemy. Wars have been won with less, so maybe we could pull something off.
Assuming they didn’t kill me first.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
REESE
“Nate Evans. Always a pleasure.”
I smiled at my least favorite law enforcement officer, because some twisted part of me was almost relieved he’d finally fucked up bad enough for us to take him out. The once and future prince of the Kootenai County Sheriff’s Department sat tied to a metal chair in the center of our interrogation-slash-torture room, face covered with fresh bruises.
Not a bad look on him.
Bolt loosened the bandanna gagging Nate’s mouth, smacking him on the head in the process for good measure. Deputy Dick had pulled Maggs over for “speeding” once.
Bolt wasn’t a fan.
“Have you lost your fucking mind?” Nate demanded. “I’m a cop. They’ll be looking for me—they’ll never stop. Not even you guys can kidnap a deputy and get away with it.”
“I got a feeling Bud will find evidence that you were embezzling, and that you took off,” I said slowly. “Sounds like a cold case to me. Ya think?”
“You can’t do this,” he said, shaking his head in blind denial. “My family will destroy you. This isn’t how it works.”
“I think it’s safe to say that today, this is how it works,” I told him, feeling a smile creep across my face. “You fucked up, but I have good news for you. You still got a shot to get out of here alive.”
He shook his head and spat.
“You’ll never let me go,” he said. “You know you’re fucked.”
“But you said I was fucked if I didn’t let you go,” I countered mildly. “You should probably work on those threats a bit. These contradictions are confusing, and you really can’t afford to have us get frustrated, now can you?”
Horse grinned.
“I think I should be the one to do it,” he told me. “I don’t really have anything against him. Not personally, I mean. You all have too many reasons to want him to suffer before he dies, so letting me kill him fast would really be the merciful thing.”
I shrugged.
“You’re probably right. You know how sloppy I get when I’m pissed off, and then the prospects will have a big mess to clean up.”
Horse carefully took off his cut, folding it and handing it to Bam Bam. Then he picked up a hammer and started toward Evans, whistling a familiar tune faintly. I tried to place it …
“The Wheels on the Bus.”
Fucked-up shit, but that’s sort of what we loved about Horse.
Seconds later he brought the hammer down hard on the good deputy’s right hand. The man started screaming like a baby.
“So, here’s the part where I tell you I changed my mind about making it fast,” Horse said, his tone friendly. “It’s just so much fun, you know? Now I’m going to break all the bones in your feet so you can’t walk ever again …”
Nate shrieked and babbled, tears running down his face.
“Oh, c’mon,” Bam Bam said, his voice heavy with disgust. “You fucked that girl and sent her down there to die. You blew up London’s house. Then you blackmailed her into shooting Pic. Now you’re whining because of a broken hand? I thought you were hard-core and shit, but you’re just a little girl with a badge.”
Nate’s jaw started working, and we waited patiently until he managed to form words.
“I’ll do anything you want,” he gasped. “Just don’t hit me again. Don’t kill me. I don’t want to die.”
“How ’bout this,” I said slowly. “You call your friends down south and tell them me and London are dead. Murder-suicide, or some such shit. If they let the kid live, we’ll let you live.”
“How do I know you’ll keep your promise? You can’t afford to let me survive at this point.”
I sighed heavily, rubbing my temples with a thumb and finger.
“You know, I almost don’t want him to call,” I told Horse. “Jessica is a pain in my ass, and if she comes back home, I won’t get as much pussy. Doesn’t change anything in terms of the war if we save her. Why don’t you just have some fun with him, and then when you get bored we’ll shoot him?”
“Okay,” Horse said, shrugging.
“Wait!” Evans shouted.
I cocked a brow at him. “I thought we couldn’t afford to let you live? That’s what you just told me. What’s the holdup?”
“While he’s still alive, he’s still got hope,” Bam said, smirking. “So now he’s gonna do exactly what you tell him, because every minute he’s breathing means he could still get out of this. Am I right, Nate?”
“Get my phone,” Nate said, sweat breaking out on his forehead. “I’ll make the call.”
“We’ll dial for you, ’cause we’re helpful that way,” Horse said. “People don’t always give us full credit for our warm, fuzzy side, but it’s definitely there. We just love to help.”
“Fuckin’ Mother Teresa of the MC world, Horse,” Ruger chimed in. “Brings a tear to my eye.”
Gage snorted and tossed me the man’s phone.
“Who do I call?” I asked. “Remember, if you double-cross us, you die. If Jessica dies, you die. You got a lot more to lose here than I do, because I really don’t give two shits about the kid. Might be easier for me if she doesn’t live. Something to keep in mind.”
“Julia Strauss,” he said. “That’s the number.”
I scrolled through the contacts, finding the name. Then I hit the call button and put it on speakerphone. It picked up, but nobody spoke.
“It’s me,” Nate said, eyes darting quickly around the room. I wondered if he’d warn them. Probably not. The man was too much of a coward to sacrifice himself for a cause. For once I agreed with him—the cartel wasn’t worth a sacrifice, and they sure as shit wouldn’t appreciate or reward one. “It’s done.”
There was a pause, and then a man with a deep voice and faint Spanish accent replied.
“You sure? We didn’t hear anything on the scanner.”
“No police report,” Nate said. “London called me after she shot him, and I went out there. Now she’s dead, too, made it look like a murder-suicide. I left them—we’ll let someone else find the bodies. You can let the girl go now.”
The man gave a harsh laugh.
“I’ll authorize the transfer to your account,” he said, and the line went dead.
Nate’s face fell, the hope in his eyes fading.
“They’re going to kill her,” he said. “Always knew they would. She’s a good kid …”
I punched him in the face so hard his chair fell over backward. His head hit the floor with a hollow-sounding thud and he started crying again. Standing over him, I cracked my knuckles, choosing my words for maximum effect.
“While she’s alive, you’re alive,” I told him. “So if you have any idea how to find these fuckers, now is the time to talk. If we get her out because of information you give us, the deal stands.”
“I thought you didn’t care if she lived or not?” he asked, blinking in the glare of the work lights hanging from the ceiling. “You’re going to kill me and we both know it. Why should I help you?”
Painter stepped over, nudging the man’s shoulder with one booted foot. He’d only just gotten back to the Armory, after settling Melanie in at the house. Perfect timing—he had his own scores to settle with Evans.
“How’s this?” he asked, the words soft and feral. “Let’s throw in a little more motivation. How ’bout you help us get Jess out safe and I won’t kill your parents.”
I glanced at him, impressed because he’d really stepped up his game. Painter was still young, but the past year had changed him. Nate’s mouth gaped and Painter laughed, reaching down to grab the front of his uniform shirt, jerking his body up—chair and all—and setting him upright again. Then he leaned down, right into Evans’s face.
“I don’t get off on old bitches, but I’ll make an exception for your mom,” he whispered. “This is my promise to you. I’ll fuck every hole she has before I slit her throat, and I’ll be sure to tell her it’s all from you.”
“I can give you an address,” Evans moaned, his entire body shaking. “I don’t know for sure if he’s there, but he has a warehouse. I saw it once. It’s the perfect place to hold her—that’s all the information I have.”
“Well, aren’t you just the reasonable little man?” Horse asked, grinning at him. “I just knew we could work this out. Now let’s take care of some more business. I think you need to call in sick to work—you just don’t look quite right. Maybe it’s your time of the month or somethin’, so you’d best let them know. Wouldn’t want ’em worrying, would we?”
“Gee, you’re always so thoughtful,” Bam Bam said to Horse.
“I try,” Horse responded, his tone modest. I snorted back a laugh, then nodded at Painter to follow me out of the room.
“That was a new level of twisted shit, little bro,” I said quietly as we walked down the hall together toward London’s room. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but what the fuck?”
Painter shrugged.
“If Jessica dies, Melanie will cry.”
I studied him, wondering if I wanted to go there. Nope, I really didn’t.
“Fair enough. Go let the others know we’re riding to Portland. Deke called in a favor, so we’ll be hopping a cargo flight south from there.”
“’Bout time we took the war to them,” Painter replied, that feral gleam in his eyes again.
“Don’t get too excited. There’ll be bodies before this is over.”
“Can’t live forever. You decide what you’re doing with London yet?”
I stopped in front of her door, frowning thoughtfully.
“No goddamn idea,” I said. “Takin’ her to Portland with us. We’ll make a decision there. She might be useful to us down south—don’t like the idea of leaving her alone here. Someone might go vigilante on her ass.”
“Sounds good, prez,” he said, then started toward the stairs. I grasped the bolt, sliding it open, then reached for the handle to open the door, wondering what exactly the fuck I was going to do about London.
Heather, if you’re actually out there somewhere, I could sure use your advice right about now.
She didn’t answer, which shouldn’t have surprised me, seein’ as she was a figment of my imagination. Still, bitch always chimed in fast enough when it wasn’t convenient for me. Probably sittin’ up in heaven right now, drinkin’ a beer and laughing her ass off.
Fuckin’ women.
LONDON
By the time Reese came back, I’d started shivering so hard my muscles and joints ached from the strain. My toes and fingers had gone numb, and while freezing to death wasn’t exactly a danger, this borderline hypothermia shit bit the big one.
Then I heard footsteps outside the door, and the low murmur of voices. The bolt slid back with a thud and the door opened. Light from the hallway blinded me at first, and I blinked rapidly at the shadowy outline of what had to be Reese.
I supposed I should be scared of him, but I was just way too cold.
“H-hey,” I said, the word unsteady. “A-a-any word on J-Jess?”
“What’s wrong?” he asked, and I started laughing because the question was so ridiculously stupid.
“W-w-why don’t we just l-list what’s right?” I asked, too tired and cold to think straight. He shut the door and came toward me, sitting down on the bed.
“Shit, you’re freezing,” he muttered, pulling back the blankets. “Fuck.”
Within seconds, he’d wrapped me up in the blanket and was carrying me out of the room, yelling at Painter to go find some keys or something. He hauled me down the corridor and up three flights of stairs before turning down the same long hallway we’d visited when I’d first come looking for Jessica.
Painter was ahead of us, opening up one of the rooms, and then Reese carried me in and set me on my feet. He fumbled for a minute to unlock the handcuffs, then stripped off my wet clothing with smooth efficiency. He led me to a tiny bathroom, switching on the shower and waiting until steam started rising before putting me under the hot spray.
Amazing.
The water flooded over me, and after a few minutes my shivers died down. Reese stood watching me, his face pensive, until the water started to cool. I reached over and twisted the faucet closed.
And if Jessica died?
Well, then I’d spend whatever time and freedom I had left hunting down the fuckwads who’d done this to us. I might be a crappy assassin, but I was a fast learner and I had a sneaking suspicion that Reese would be a hell of a good teacher.
Sound crazy?
Probably, but what other options did I have? The only ones who hadn’t lied to me or used me were Reese and his brothers, and we shared a common enemy. Wars have been won with less, so maybe we could pull something off.
Assuming they didn’t kill me first.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
REESE
“Nate Evans. Always a pleasure.”
I smiled at my least favorite law enforcement officer, because some twisted part of me was almost relieved he’d finally fucked up bad enough for us to take him out. The once and future prince of the Kootenai County Sheriff’s Department sat tied to a metal chair in the center of our interrogation-slash-torture room, face covered with fresh bruises.
Not a bad look on him.
Bolt loosened the bandanna gagging Nate’s mouth, smacking him on the head in the process for good measure. Deputy Dick had pulled Maggs over for “speeding” once.
Bolt wasn’t a fan.
“Have you lost your fucking mind?” Nate demanded. “I’m a cop. They’ll be looking for me—they’ll never stop. Not even you guys can kidnap a deputy and get away with it.”
“I got a feeling Bud will find evidence that you were embezzling, and that you took off,” I said slowly. “Sounds like a cold case to me. Ya think?”
“You can’t do this,” he said, shaking his head in blind denial. “My family will destroy you. This isn’t how it works.”
“I think it’s safe to say that today, this is how it works,” I told him, feeling a smile creep across my face. “You fucked up, but I have good news for you. You still got a shot to get out of here alive.”
He shook his head and spat.
“You’ll never let me go,” he said. “You know you’re fucked.”
“But you said I was fucked if I didn’t let you go,” I countered mildly. “You should probably work on those threats a bit. These contradictions are confusing, and you really can’t afford to have us get frustrated, now can you?”
Horse grinned.
“I think I should be the one to do it,” he told me. “I don’t really have anything against him. Not personally, I mean. You all have too many reasons to want him to suffer before he dies, so letting me kill him fast would really be the merciful thing.”
I shrugged.
“You’re probably right. You know how sloppy I get when I’m pissed off, and then the prospects will have a big mess to clean up.”
Horse carefully took off his cut, folding it and handing it to Bam Bam. Then he picked up a hammer and started toward Evans, whistling a familiar tune faintly. I tried to place it …
“The Wheels on the Bus.”
Fucked-up shit, but that’s sort of what we loved about Horse.
Seconds later he brought the hammer down hard on the good deputy’s right hand. The man started screaming like a baby.
“So, here’s the part where I tell you I changed my mind about making it fast,” Horse said, his tone friendly. “It’s just so much fun, you know? Now I’m going to break all the bones in your feet so you can’t walk ever again …”
Nate shrieked and babbled, tears running down his face.
“Oh, c’mon,” Bam Bam said, his voice heavy with disgust. “You fucked that girl and sent her down there to die. You blew up London’s house. Then you blackmailed her into shooting Pic. Now you’re whining because of a broken hand? I thought you were hard-core and shit, but you’re just a little girl with a badge.”
Nate’s jaw started working, and we waited patiently until he managed to form words.
“I’ll do anything you want,” he gasped. “Just don’t hit me again. Don’t kill me. I don’t want to die.”
“How ’bout this,” I said slowly. “You call your friends down south and tell them me and London are dead. Murder-suicide, or some such shit. If they let the kid live, we’ll let you live.”
“How do I know you’ll keep your promise? You can’t afford to let me survive at this point.”
I sighed heavily, rubbing my temples with a thumb and finger.
“You know, I almost don’t want him to call,” I told Horse. “Jessica is a pain in my ass, and if she comes back home, I won’t get as much pussy. Doesn’t change anything in terms of the war if we save her. Why don’t you just have some fun with him, and then when you get bored we’ll shoot him?”
“Okay,” Horse said, shrugging.
“Wait!” Evans shouted.
I cocked a brow at him. “I thought we couldn’t afford to let you live? That’s what you just told me. What’s the holdup?”
“While he’s still alive, he’s still got hope,” Bam said, smirking. “So now he’s gonna do exactly what you tell him, because every minute he’s breathing means he could still get out of this. Am I right, Nate?”
“Get my phone,” Nate said, sweat breaking out on his forehead. “I’ll make the call.”
“We’ll dial for you, ’cause we’re helpful that way,” Horse said. “People don’t always give us full credit for our warm, fuzzy side, but it’s definitely there. We just love to help.”
“Fuckin’ Mother Teresa of the MC world, Horse,” Ruger chimed in. “Brings a tear to my eye.”
Gage snorted and tossed me the man’s phone.
“Who do I call?” I asked. “Remember, if you double-cross us, you die. If Jessica dies, you die. You got a lot more to lose here than I do, because I really don’t give two shits about the kid. Might be easier for me if she doesn’t live. Something to keep in mind.”
“Julia Strauss,” he said. “That’s the number.”
I scrolled through the contacts, finding the name. Then I hit the call button and put it on speakerphone. It picked up, but nobody spoke.
“It’s me,” Nate said, eyes darting quickly around the room. I wondered if he’d warn them. Probably not. The man was too much of a coward to sacrifice himself for a cause. For once I agreed with him—the cartel wasn’t worth a sacrifice, and they sure as shit wouldn’t appreciate or reward one. “It’s done.”
There was a pause, and then a man with a deep voice and faint Spanish accent replied.
“You sure? We didn’t hear anything on the scanner.”
“No police report,” Nate said. “London called me after she shot him, and I went out there. Now she’s dead, too, made it look like a murder-suicide. I left them—we’ll let someone else find the bodies. You can let the girl go now.”
The man gave a harsh laugh.
“I’ll authorize the transfer to your account,” he said, and the line went dead.
Nate’s face fell, the hope in his eyes fading.
“They’re going to kill her,” he said. “Always knew they would. She’s a good kid …”
I punched him in the face so hard his chair fell over backward. His head hit the floor with a hollow-sounding thud and he started crying again. Standing over him, I cracked my knuckles, choosing my words for maximum effect.
“While she’s alive, you’re alive,” I told him. “So if you have any idea how to find these fuckers, now is the time to talk. If we get her out because of information you give us, the deal stands.”
“I thought you didn’t care if she lived or not?” he asked, blinking in the glare of the work lights hanging from the ceiling. “You’re going to kill me and we both know it. Why should I help you?”
Painter stepped over, nudging the man’s shoulder with one booted foot. He’d only just gotten back to the Armory, after settling Melanie in at the house. Perfect timing—he had his own scores to settle with Evans.
“How’s this?” he asked, the words soft and feral. “Let’s throw in a little more motivation. How ’bout you help us get Jess out safe and I won’t kill your parents.”
I glanced at him, impressed because he’d really stepped up his game. Painter was still young, but the past year had changed him. Nate’s mouth gaped and Painter laughed, reaching down to grab the front of his uniform shirt, jerking his body up—chair and all—and setting him upright again. Then he leaned down, right into Evans’s face.
“I don’t get off on old bitches, but I’ll make an exception for your mom,” he whispered. “This is my promise to you. I’ll fuck every hole she has before I slit her throat, and I’ll be sure to tell her it’s all from you.”
“I can give you an address,” Evans moaned, his entire body shaking. “I don’t know for sure if he’s there, but he has a warehouse. I saw it once. It’s the perfect place to hold her—that’s all the information I have.”
“Well, aren’t you just the reasonable little man?” Horse asked, grinning at him. “I just knew we could work this out. Now let’s take care of some more business. I think you need to call in sick to work—you just don’t look quite right. Maybe it’s your time of the month or somethin’, so you’d best let them know. Wouldn’t want ’em worrying, would we?”
“Gee, you’re always so thoughtful,” Bam Bam said to Horse.
“I try,” Horse responded, his tone modest. I snorted back a laugh, then nodded at Painter to follow me out of the room.
“That was a new level of twisted shit, little bro,” I said quietly as we walked down the hall together toward London’s room. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but what the fuck?”
Painter shrugged.
“If Jessica dies, Melanie will cry.”
I studied him, wondering if I wanted to go there. Nope, I really didn’t.
“Fair enough. Go let the others know we’re riding to Portland. Deke called in a favor, so we’ll be hopping a cargo flight south from there.”
“’Bout time we took the war to them,” Painter replied, that feral gleam in his eyes again.
“Don’t get too excited. There’ll be bodies before this is over.”
“Can’t live forever. You decide what you’re doing with London yet?”
I stopped in front of her door, frowning thoughtfully.
“No goddamn idea,” I said. “Takin’ her to Portland with us. We’ll make a decision there. She might be useful to us down south—don’t like the idea of leaving her alone here. Someone might go vigilante on her ass.”
“Sounds good, prez,” he said, then started toward the stairs. I grasped the bolt, sliding it open, then reached for the handle to open the door, wondering what exactly the fuck I was going to do about London.
Heather, if you’re actually out there somewhere, I could sure use your advice right about now.
She didn’t answer, which shouldn’t have surprised me, seein’ as she was a figment of my imagination. Still, bitch always chimed in fast enough when it wasn’t convenient for me. Probably sittin’ up in heaven right now, drinkin’ a beer and laughing her ass off.
Fuckin’ women.
LONDON
By the time Reese came back, I’d started shivering so hard my muscles and joints ached from the strain. My toes and fingers had gone numb, and while freezing to death wasn’t exactly a danger, this borderline hypothermia shit bit the big one.
Then I heard footsteps outside the door, and the low murmur of voices. The bolt slid back with a thud and the door opened. Light from the hallway blinded me at first, and I blinked rapidly at the shadowy outline of what had to be Reese.
I supposed I should be scared of him, but I was just way too cold.
“H-hey,” I said, the word unsteady. “A-a-any word on J-Jess?”
“What’s wrong?” he asked, and I started laughing because the question was so ridiculously stupid.
“W-w-why don’t we just l-list what’s right?” I asked, too tired and cold to think straight. He shut the door and came toward me, sitting down on the bed.
“Shit, you’re freezing,” he muttered, pulling back the blankets. “Fuck.”
Within seconds, he’d wrapped me up in the blanket and was carrying me out of the room, yelling at Painter to go find some keys or something. He hauled me down the corridor and up three flights of stairs before turning down the same long hallway we’d visited when I’d first come looking for Jessica.
Painter was ahead of us, opening up one of the rooms, and then Reese carried me in and set me on my feet. He fumbled for a minute to unlock the handcuffs, then stripped off my wet clothing with smooth efficiency. He led me to a tiny bathroom, switching on the shower and waiting until steam started rising before putting me under the hot spray.
Amazing.
The water flooded over me, and after a few minutes my shivers died down. Reese stood watching me, his face pensive, until the water started to cool. I reached over and twisted the faucet closed.
