Reaper's Fire (Reapers Motorcycle Club #6)

by Joanna Wylde

  Jack’s Roadhouse was like every other small-town dive I’d ever been in—populated almost entirely by locals, ranging in age from the newly minted twenty-one-year-olds (or at least those who’d managed to get fake IDs, although in a town this small it was more about plausible deniability than anything else) to a few old men who had to be in their seventies. The music was classic rock, the beer was strictly domestic, and the battered tables had seen better days. Wasn’t a half-bad place, though—people seemed to be enjoying themselves, and there were some girls on the dance floor strutting their stuff.

  Talia and her posse had staked out a table about halfway back, near the dance floor. The table was littered with empty shot glasses and several untouched glasses of water—guess they weren’t into pacing themselves. I recognized a couple of the women from earlier in the week. Talia spent a lot of time in the bar, which made my job that much easier. Totally natural for a man who’s new to town to visit the local watering hole, and even more natural to home in on a woman who looked like Talia Jackson. On paper she was a perfect ten.

  In the flesh? Not so much.

  The girl had no curves, for one thing. She was also hard—aged beyond her years with a nasty, calculating air in everything she did. Fucking her would be like fucking a strip of jerky. I watched as the girls raised their glasses, polishing off another round of shots before slamming them back down on the table with a crash. Talia looked up, catching a glimpse of me.

  “Cooper!” she shrieked, jumping up and running over toward me. My arms rose to catch her, and then her legs were wrapped around my waist, clutching me tightly. Her mouth covered mine for a kiss that burned with alcohol and the lingering taste of buffalo wings.

  You’re doing this for the Reapers, I reminded myself. No different than one of our club whores fucking a guy to get information. Somehow I managed to kiss her back, hands gripping her ass. My hungry dick responded, which was something of a blessing. Maybe having Tinker around would be a good thing after all—I could just think of her anytime I had to touch Talia.

  After what felt like a thousand years, Marsh’s sister pulled away, catching my face with both hands.

  “I have great news!”

  “What’s that?” I asked, wondering how drunk she was.

  “My brother wants to meet you,” she slurred, blinking owlishly. Fucking hell, that was good news. The sooner I got in with Marsh Jackson and figured out what was going on, the sooner I’d be able to get the hell out of this shithole.

  Of course, then I’d never get my chance with Tinker. In that instant I remembered why I didn’t like women my own age—they complicated things.

  They were interesting instead of interchangeable.

  “That’s great,” I told Talia, making sure I didn’t sound too enthusiastic. Just ’cause this was her turf didn’t mean I had to give her full custody of my balls. “He’s a biker, right?”

  Talia rolled her eyes, sliding down my body until her feet touched the floor. Then she reached up, straightening my hair.

  Like a pet.

  “No, he’s the biker,” she corrected. “He’s the president of the Nighthawk Raiders—that means he owns this fucking town. If you plan to stick around—even as an independent—you don’t want him pissed off at you.”

  “Really?” I asked, raising a brow. “And what happens if he gets pissed at me?”

  She shrugged, the gesture playful. “Not sure. You’d have to ask my last boyfriend.”

  I laughed. “And let me guess—nobody knows what happened to him?”

  Her eyes sparkled.

  “How’d you figure it out?” she asked, a hint of steel in her voice. “It’s a bit of a mystery. One night he cheated on me, and the next he was just gone. It was a real shame, because he had a kid and everything.”

  I smiled adoringly at the sociopathic little bitch. At least there wasn’t any danger of feeling guilty about using her to infiltrate the club—cunt had a gift for killing off even the slightest hint of empathy.

  “Sounds like a loser,” I replied. “You’re better off without him.”

  Talia giggled, fluttering her lashes.

  “I know.”

  We spent the next two hours playing bullshit games. It went a little something like this:

  Talia would drop hints that she and her girls were thirsty.

  I’d buy a round for the table.

  I’d dance with her for a song.

  Repeat.

  Necessary groundwork, no getting around that. Didn’t mean I enjoyed it. The girl was a fucking mess—raging bitch one minute, insecure little princess the next. At one point she dragged me into the alley behind the bar for a blow job, which I guess was okay, but the entire time all I could think about was how much I wanted it to be over.

  Then the Nighthawk Raiders showed up, and everything changed.

  I clocked sixteen of them, not counting whatever prospects they might’ve left outside with the bikes. They strolled into the bar around midnight, talking and laughing loudly, instantly dominating the room. Marsh was a big guy, and I’d seen him around town a couple times. Built like a bull, with long, dark blond hair in a ratty ponytail. The Nighthawks made their way to the back, followed by two waitresses loaded down with pitchers of beer.

  Clearly they were regulars.

  “C’mon,” Talia said, catching my hand and dragging me across the room. “Marsh wants to meet you.”

  I felt them sizing me up as I approached. This was strange—usually I was the one men approached, not the other way around. The Reapers owned Washington State, even if Marsh seemed to have forgotten that. Hell, he’d have recognized me if he’d done his part and paid his respects at the Armory like every other club president living in our territory.

  Cockwad.

  “Marsh, this is Cooper,” Talia said. “You remember I told you about him? He’s new to town. I met him and his cousin earlier this week.”

  Marsh leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he looked me over. I saw him take in my POW/MIA belt buckle, Harley T-shirt, and hair tied back.

  “I hear you’re a biker,” he said flatly. I nodded, meeting his gaze.

  “Yup, independent,” I replied. “New to town.”

  “Where’d you come from?”

  “No one place. My ex and the kids are down in Ellensburg. Needed somewhere to land that was close enough to see them, but far enough I don’t have to see them too much. Pulling my shit together after the divorce.”

  “Cooper’s a long-haul trucker,” Talia said, giving her brother a sweet smile. “He’s staying at the hotel for now, but he’s looking for a place. I was wondering if any of the trailers out by the clubhouse were empty.”

  Yeah, no fucking way I wanted that—we needed me to get close, but not too close. One mistake and I’d find my throat slit.

  “I found a place,” I told her. “Tinker Garrett hired me today—I’m her new handyman. It comes with an apartment.”

  Talia sneered. “That old bitch has a stick up her ass.”

  One of the guys laughed, and I glanced at his colors for a name. Cord.

  “Sounds like someone’s jealous,” he said to me, nodding toward Talia. “Tinker’s prime snatch. Let us know what you think if you get a taste. I saw this—”

  “Shut the fuck up,” Talia snarled. “That cunt is nothing. Nothing.”

  “Not what I hear,” Cord replied, eyes hardening. “You see that ass of hers? I’d tap that. Sounds like someone’s jealous.”

  “Shut up,” Marsh growled, echoing his sister. Cord stared him down without blinking, and I realized not all the Nighthawks were happy with the current situation. Good to know. Their little standoff lasted for almost a minute, and I felt the tension growing.

  Then Marsh burst out laughing.

  “We need a drink,” he announced. “Talia, go get us a round of shots. On me.”

  She looked between us for a minute, obviously frustrated, then caught my hand.

  “C’mon,” she mutter
ed. “Fucking assholes.”

  Her brother roared with laughter again, and the rest of them copied like a bunch of hyenas. Not all of them, though. Cord and a couple others weren’t laughing at all.

  So.

  Now I’d met all my targets, and maybe found some future allies.

  I could work with this.

  CHAPTER THREE

  TINKER

  Cooper didn’t have time to move that weekend after all, so I ended up dropping off a set of keys for him at his hotel on Saturday afternoon. Coincidentally, I happened to be dressed in my finest because I’d made plans to meet Margarita for dinner in Ellensburg that night. (She’d driven over for a conference presentation earlier in the day at Central Washington University.) Not that my looks mattered—I knew Cooper was interested in Talia. Still, a woman’s got her pride, and I hadn’t exactly been at my best when he’d seen me yesterday.

  I’d texted him to let him know I was on the way, and he met me out in the hotel parking lot, looking sexy as ever.

  It wasn’t fair, I decided as he swaggered over to my car. If I was smart, I’d have handed him the keys and pulled out of the parking lot, but instead I stepped out of my Mustang in a way that couldn’t help but draw attention to the fact that my skirt was very, very short. Oh, and it was a total coincidence that I’d opted for a push-up bra, I reminded myself, even as I savored the way his eyes went straight to my chest.

  Curves, baby. Yeah. I got ’em.

  “You look good,” he said, and I bit back a smile.

  “Well, it is Saturday night,” I said, deciding he didn’t need to know my hot date was with a very married girlfriend. “I have the keys to your place here. It’s unit 2A. You can let yourself in anytime, but it might be good if we meet later in the week so I can show you around. Any idea what time might work for you?”

  He frowned, “Probably not until Monday or Tuesday. I’ve got some loose ends to tie up first.”

  I took a minute to imagine what it’d feel like to be tied up by a guy like Cooper. Then the roar of a motorcycle pulling into the lot caught my attention, and I watched as another man rolled to a stop next to us. He swung a leg over his bike, pulling off his helmet to reveal messy blond hair. He was younger than me—probably in his early twenties—and he was hot as hell.

  God, what is it with you and perving on the barely legal ones?

  “Hey there,” the new arrival said, openly checking me out. (Nice shot in the ego, that.) “Aren’t you going to introduce me, Coop?”

  Something passed between the two men, some hint of warning or danger or . . . I couldn’t tell, but I got the distinct sense that Cooper was annoyed with his friend.

  “You got here earlier than I expected,” Cooper said. “This is Tinker—looks like I’ll be renting from her. I need a place and she’s got one, so it works out perfect. Tinker, this is Levi, my cousin.”

  Cousin? Must’ve been an interesting family tree, because while Cooper had darker skin and thick black hair, Levi was pale and blond. He was also young, but that didn’t stop me from noticing that he and his older cousin had one thing in common.

  Both of them were beautiful.

  So unfair.

  “Nice to meet you, Levi,” I said, offering him a friendly smile. “I’m looking forward to you moving in, Cooper. I need to get going, though—I’m headed down to Ellensburg for the night. Later!”

  Their eyes followed me as I climbed into my car, and I’m not ashamed to admit that I took care to show even more leg this time. The engine started with a powerful rumble—all raw power and muscle—and I held back a laugh as I reversed out, then thrust it into first and drove off with a spray of gravel.

  So what if my new handyman had a hot, skanky little girlfriend waiting for him?

  I’d bet my last dollar that girl couldn’t handle a stick half as well as me.

  • • •

  I didn’t see Cooper Romero again until Tuesday night, when he pulled up to the Garrett apartment building in a semi truck. Behind it was a flatbed trailer with his bike on it. I’d watched, wide-eyed, from the kitchen window, wondering what the hell I’d been thinking, hiring a man I knew so little about that I didn’t even realize he was a trucker.

  Oopsie.

  Cooper swung down out of the cab, giving the trailer a quick once-over before heading toward the house. Brushing off my clothes, I gave my hair a quick check in the hall tree and opened the front door.

  “Hey there,” I said, hoping my voice sounded calmer and more sophisticated than I felt. Cooper was so beautiful he unnerved me. I’d sort of hoped that maybe I’d been wrong about how sexy he was—that I’d exaggerated it in my mind or something, out of sheer desperation.

  Not so much.

  The man was still tall and built, and today his hair was hanging loose around his shoulders. I swear, he looked like a male model, or he would’ve if he’d bothered to shave anytime in the last couple days. He didn’t quite have a beard, but there was definitely more than scruff on his cheeks. It would feel all rough and prickly against my cheek if—stop it right now. What are you, a teenager in heat?

  “Wow, that’s a big truck,” I said. Cooper cocked a brow and smirked.

  “I get that a lot.”

  Rolling my eyes, I bit back a laugh. “That came out wrong. All I meant was that I didn’t realize you drove a semi. I don’t think we have room in the parking lot for it. You could park the cab in the back, but there’s not enough room for the trailer.”

  “No worries,” he replied. “I just borrowed it from a friend to carry my bike to town. I’ll be taking it back to him tomorrow.”

  “I guess I didn’t realize you were a trucker,” I said, considering the big rig, wondering how he’d be able to do repairs if he was traveling all the time. Should’ve had him fill out an application, dumbass . . . “I guess you’re on the road a lot?”

  “I’m taking some time off,” he said. “I’ve been doing long-haul routes for years. Came home a few weeks ago to find my wife had moved on, so now I’m working on a divorce. She lives down in Ellensburg, but I wanted a fresh start. Somewhere far enough away to have my own space, but close enough to see my kids more than twice a year.”

  “How did you pick Hallies Falls, of all places? I mean, I can think of a lot of towns that might be better.”

  All of them. All of them would be better, in my experience.

  Cooper shrugged, offering me a grin that made my stomach clench.

  “I passed through here a few years back with a friend, thought it looked pretty. When I needed a place to land it came to mind—simple as that.”

  “So you’re only going to be here short term?” I asked, although I really didn’t have any room to criticize. Sure, I’d hired him to do work around the building, but it wasn’t like we had a contract or anything. I’d probably sell the place and go back to Seattle if Dad . . . Nope, wasn’t ready to think about that. Denial. Denial had served the women of my family well for generations. No reason to change that now.

  “I haven’t decided yet,” he replied. “Depends on whether I find a reason to stick around, I guess.”

  Whatever I might’ve said in reply died as a battered old Jeep Wrangler pulled up, parking along the street in front of the building. The door flew open and out climbed Talia Jackson. Her eyes snapped toward us, narrowing.

  “Hey, baby!” she called, walking over to stand pointedly between me and Cooper. I watched as she wrapped herself around him for a deep kiss. Part of me hoped he’d tell her to fuck off. Instead he kissed her back, digging his hands into her flat ass. Then Talia broke free, turning to smirk at me.

  Message received.

  “Nice to see you, Talia,” I said, thinking of Princess Diana. Calm, cool, graceful Diana. Now I just needed to channel her, instead of going all Kardashian on Talia’s tacky ass like I wanted to. “I was just about to show Cooper his new place. Would you like to join us?”

  She looked over at the building.

  “I can’t u
nderstand why you’d want to live here,” she declared loudly at Cooper. “They’re a bunch of old people, and I’m sure they’ll bitch at you all the time just because you have a life.”

  Dear God, were we really going here?

  Inhale pink, exhale blue. You can do this.

  “I’ll show you the apartment, and then you can get settled,” I announced, ignoring her. “Second floor, right behind the main house. That’s a good one, because it has its own separate entrance off the parking lot. Gives you more privacy.”

  Cooper nodded, following me as I stepped off the wide porch and around the side of the house to the attached apartment building. There wasn’t much of a stoop on the stairwell, but it had a nice awning over the entry. Handy in the winter.

  “It’s just one bedroom,” I said, unlocking the door. I pushed it open, and Cooper and Talia followed me into the living room. The apartment stretched across the width of the building, so there was light coming in from both sides. Across from the door was a dining area with a kitchenette.

  “It’s all natural-gas heat,” I told him. “That keeps the utilities under control. The bedroom and bathroom are just through here.”

  They followed me through the living room into the bedroom, Talia looking around eagerly. Apparently her disgust didn’t run quite as deep as she’d let on. Fair enough—it was a nice building, built by my grandpa and lovingly maintained by my dad. They’d always taken their work very seriously.

  “Do you have a bed?” Talia asked Cooper. “When are we breaking this place in?”

  And just like that I was done.

  “So, that’s everything,” I announced. “There’s a paper with all the garbage and utilities information in the kitchen, along with my contact information. It’s taped inside the cabinet next to the sink. Call me if you need anything, otherwise I’ll just let you get settled.”

  I started toward the door, wondering if it would be okay to declare he wasn’t allowed overnight guests. Specifically, that he wasn’t allowed female overnight guests.