Reign (The Henchmen MC Book 1)
Page 23
“The fuck?” Wolf exploded, the boom of his voice enough to make everyone start.
And then I wasn't the only one with a gun.
But it wasn't Wolf who picked one up.
It was Repo.
“Look at her face, you fuck!” he exploded. “You did that. Weren't your fists, but it might as fuckin' well have been.”
Flee tried to retreat, but the man behind him blocked his way, looking as angry as, suddenly, everyone around me looked.
Okay.
Not good.
I was pretty sure everyone had enough violence for the day.
I needed to fix it.
“Repo,” I said, my voice soft. “Put the gun down.”
“The mother fucker deserves to...”
“Put the gun down,” I said, nearing a shout. His eyes slipped to me, watching me for a minute, before his hand went down.
“Babe...” Reign's voice said behind me.
“Don't 'babe' me right now. I'm trying to fix this. Okay. We're not gonna shoot you,” I said to Flee and could swear I heard Reign chuckle.
“Like hell,” Wolf said, his tone low and scary.
I sighed. “I think there's been enough blood today, don't you?” I asked, looking at him. Pleading him silently to let it drop. His eyes held mine, then his shoulder shrugged.
“Go back to my father...” someone started to object. A man I wasn't familiar with. I lifted a brow at him, then turned back to Flee. “Go back to my father,” I repeated. “Tell him to keep his nose out of Henchmen business. That if we find out there's another of his men in this compound, I will shoot them myself. You got that?”
Flee's head was nodding.
“Good. Now get the hell out of here. I was promised pizza and I haven't eaten in two fucking days.”
I put the safety back on and put the gun back on the table.
I turned to find Reign smirking at me, Cash out and out grinning.
“Shoot um yourself, huh?” Reign asked.
“I'm getting pretty good at shooting people,” I said, shrugging.
At this, there was laughter.
And I even joined in.
I caught, out of the corner of my eye, Wolf's eyes find Reign's. And Reign did a simple badass chin lift and Wolf was storming out the door. I pretended to not know what that meant.
But I also knew Flee was going to have a few more (okay, a lot more) bruises when he finally made it back to my father.
And, somehow, I didn't really even care.
I had a few more bruises too.
Soon after, Lo and Janie left.
I was fed pizza.
And then I fell into bed with Reign. And, for the first time in months, there were no nightmares. There was no fear of being pulled back. There was just peace.
There were just the arms of a man I loved around me.
His heartbeat underneath my ear.
There was just the overpowering, comforting sensation of feeling like I finally found the place I belonged.
Epilogue
Summer
“You're not using a god damn Ak-47, Summer,” Reign said, his tone exasperated. I started to tuck my lower lip out, but he caught on. “And don't you fuckin' dare start poutin' at me.”
I sucked it back in.
“I think I've proven that I am pretty good with a gun,” I objected.
Cash had been bringing me to the Henchmen's target range for weeks and I was almost as good as he was.
“Yeah, babe. A gun. A handgun. You're not touchin' a fuckin' fully automatic weapon, Summer.”
“Well why the hell not?”
Okay. Reign and I fought a lot.
Not just over the big things. Like letting me use really dangerous (but really flipping cool) weapons.
We fought about everything.
Like me going back to work.
Though we usually “compromised”.
And by “compromised” I meant I was browbeat until I agreed to take a job at one of the Henchmen's legitimate businesses so someone could “keep an eye on” me. As if I was constantly under the imminent threat of being kidnapped and tortured again.
I wasn't.
But I was working at a god damn mechanic shop as a receptionist.
Which, if you asked me, was a little bit beneath my eighteen years of private school education and then an Ivy League degree.
But he didn't exactly ask me.
And it wasn't a huge issue. So I didn't push it.
Not like I pushed the issue of keeping me informed of what was going on with the Henchmen. Which was completely against the rules. And it led to the kind of fight that made him drag me out to the shed so we didn't wake up everyone in the compound.
He tried to keep his cool. I persisted.
He yelled. I screamed.
We reached a stalemate.
Then I used naked persuasion.
Needless to say, I got my way.
And I was going to get my way about the damn guns too.
“Look. I live here. Amongst a sea of guns and possible gunfire,” I reasoned, and watched his face go hard. “Wouldn't it be... prudent for me to learn to use all of the guns around here? Just in case?”
“You think it would be prudent for you to learn how to use an AK-47.”
“For safety purposes,” I insisted, playing to his weak spot. He wanted me safe. He didn't really like the idea that anything could ever happen to me again. Even though the nightmares had worn off almost a year ago. And no one had so much as looked my way in months. I was no one. Just Reign's old lady. I wasn't a possible bargaining chip anymore.
“Babe...”
“Oh let the woman use the god damn gun,” a voice broke in. Distantly familiar. A voice I knew, but couldn't place immediately.
Reign and I both turned, him holding the AK-47 he had caught me walking around the grounds with a few minutes ago (hence the fight. To the immense entertainment of the men on guard. And the few who wandered out just to catch the show. Apparently our fights were a source of high amusement. There were even pools in place for people to bet on when the next fight would take place. And who would win.)
“The fuck?” Reign asked, not raising the gun, but his hands twitched.
“Holy crap,” I muttered at the same time.
Because there approaching us, dressed in his usual brand of expensive, perfect suits (this one gray) … was fucking Daniel.
“How'd you get in here?” Reign asked, jerking his head to look at the men at the gate who had their hands up, palms out, saying it was out of their hands.
Daniel gave me an odd smile, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a wallet fold, then flipping it open.
A badge.
A FBI badge.
“No fucking way,” I found myself saying, my head jerking up to his face. “But you let them torture me. You told them to torture me.”
At this, he winced a little. “I was undercover, sweetheart. I had no choice. I tried to keep you as safe as possible. Besides,” he said, smiling a little, “you got to shoot me in the end.”
“Well... that's true,” I mused. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged. “I wanted to clear the air. I felt like shit over the whole operation.”
“You were working for V for years,” I said, shaking my head. “I couldn't have possibly been the worst thing you saw.”
“One thing to see things happen. Another to be in on it.”
“Your assignment over?” Reign asked, not caring the least bit that he was butting in.
“Heading to the West coast for a while. Lot of girls coming in that way. That's why I wanted to stop by.”
“Sorry we foiled your operation,” I said, knowing how disappointing it must have been to work for such slime for years and then not be able to drag her in for her crimes.
“Plenty of other scum out there to nab. Just glad V is out of commission. Your father taking good care of her?”
My father had his own mini prison built
for her. It was impressive.
He went to visit her every single day.
Reminding her constantly that she was, yet again, under his thumb.
The worst kind of torture.
He was a real bastard when he wanted to be.
“Oh yeah,” I agreed. “All comfy cozy.”
At this, he smiled. “Glad to hear it. You take care of yourself, Summer,” he said, extending his hand to me. I took it. “And as a federal agent, I am not allowed to say this,” he said, then turned his face to Reign, “but let the girl use the gun.”
And with that, he was gone.
I turned expectant eyes on Reign.
“Fuckin' fine,” he conceded and I heard a bunch of groans from out peanut gallery. A lot of men just lost money. Always underestimating me. “But we ain't going to your father's for Thanksgiving.”
“Okay honey,” I said, moving to wrap my arms around him, mostly to hide my smile. Thanksgiving had been a sore spot for weeks. “That's fine. We can all do Thanksgiving at your cabin instead.”
“Summer...” he said, sounding tired.
“I love you,” I tried. It was cheap and I knew it. But, hell, when you're going up against a badass outlaw biker dude, you had to play whatever you had up your sleeves.
“Love ya too, babe, but no fuckin' way.”
I pulled back slightly to look up at him, giving him a smile. “For me?”
His head tilted upward, begging the sky for some kind of intervention. Getting none, he looked back down at me and sighed. His hand went up, brushing his knuckles down my cheek. “For you?”
“Mmhmm,” I said, letting the smile grow. I had him. I knew it. He knew it. And it was certainly something worth smiling about. Two wins in one day? It was unheard of.
“For you,” he said again, shrugging, “anything.”
xx
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Acknowledgements:
Nikki "Navareus" the best beta reader in the world. Full of encouragement and not too afraid (okay, maybe a little afraid at first - evidenced by her "please don't be mad at me" prefaces to her critisizm) to tell me about possible misunderstandings and plot holes she found. This book wouldn't have been what it is without her insight. She's the best.
Read more about K and his “disappearing” women in:
Dark Mysteries
Also By Jessica Gadziala
What The Heart Needs
What The Heart Wants
What The Heart Finds
What The Heart Knows
The Stars Landing Deviant
The Sex Surrogate
For A Good Time, Call
Dissent
About Jessica Gadziala:
Jessica Gadziala was born and raised in New Jersey and thinks Manhattan is would be like... the best place in the world to live, but still secretly wants to buy a farm in rural Pennsylvania. Writing was the only acceptable career path for her from the first time she learned that such a thing existed and would hoard her allowance money to buy herself notebooks and pens instead of toys. She attempted a string of odd jobs before quitting and taking the blind leap of faith that was trying to make a career out of her passion.
She is a parrot enthusiast, a houseplant killer, and wholly incapable of answering text messages in a reasonable amount of time. When she is not writing (which is practically never), she is obsessively trying to read as many books as possible and has totally been known to throw temper tantrums over fictional characters.
She misses coffee. They had a falling out.
Jessica is a firm believer in snark, strong secondary characters, and HEA.
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♥/ Jessica