Zane (Reapers MC Book 11)

by Elizabeth Knox

  He scoffs, “Stop playin’ games, O’. If there was a way out of this, I would’ve figured it out by now.”

  “The way you can have me doesn’t involve getting out of this. I still have to marry Zane, per the agreement. But, there’s still a way we can be together.” I look up to Inc, needing him to understand we can still be happy. I just don’t know if he’d be willing to explore what he’ll have to do.

  “I don’t understand what you’re gettin’ at, O’.” He admits. I take in a deep breath, look into his eyes, and start to explain what I can without compromising what Zane’s told me in confidence. I’ll simply elude to it. I only pray that after I’m done talking, Inc will agree to meet us at our hotel tonight.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  They thought she was crazy. When in reality she was a hurricane trapped in skin, stitched together by a raging force, of a wild heart and tortured soul, longing to be loved and understood.

  ~ Victoria Lozada

  Zane

  Breaker wasn’t lyin’ when he said this was in the back of the woods. We went up Route 2 for quite a while until Chains made a left hand turn after one of the popular trails. On our drive he’s been acting as a tour guide too.

  The cabin they have isn’t anythin’ fancy, more of a shack lookin’ thing. They have a guy posted on the outside of the building. Chains introduced me to the man, whose name is Ops. It’s an interesting road name, but I’ll put my money on it that some of these guys are ex-military, Marines, Navy, etc.

  This Ops dude. He’s one of those average pretty guys. Kinda reminds me of Mouser in a way. They look hot as shit and know it. You think it’s gonna go to their heads, but hopefully like Mouser, this guy uses it to his advantage.

  Not even gonna lie. If Inc doesn’t come over to the hotel later, I may have to ask Octavia about Ops. I sure wouldn’t mind watchin’ this guy choke on my cock.

  The three of us stand outside for a few minutes and hash over some shit. They tell me everythin’ they know, which isn’t much. Apparently, this guy is pretty well known, but what he’s well known for is the issue. He’s got a rap sheet a mile long for armed robbery, theft, that sorta shit. So, this begs the question. What would cause a man to go from stealin’ shit to shootin’ women?

  “Breaker told me you didn’t have shit on this guy. Never mentioned his criminal history to me,” I mutter, lookin’ back at the man who’s bound to a metal chair with electrical tape.

  “That’s all we have on him. No gang affiliations. No ties to other potential MCs who could be impeding on our territory. We’ve got nothin’ else.” Ops informs me.

  “It’s enough for me to start on. You have a set of jumpers in the truck?” I ask Chains, who nods.

  “Yep. I’ll go grab ‘em.”

  “Perfect. You have water supply in this joint?” I ask Ops.

  “We sure as fuck do. What’re you plannin’ to do?”

  “Besides provin’ a point? I’m gonna make this fucker talk.” I state, pushin’ open the door. I walk in and the wood creaks underneath me. Who knows how old this floor is. I walk around the guy, whose name is Luis Montego. He’s an average criminal. The type of man we see up in Billings hooked on meth, just tryin’ to support his habit.

  “Luis, tsk. You should’ve spoken to them when you had the chance, ese.” Luis reacts at my knowledge of street slang. It’s only one word, but I know far more than that. It’s one of the many things people don’t know about me. Then again, I’m not the type of man who puts all my cards on the table.

  Nothing.

  “I bet they didn’t tell you I’d be here, did they? They never do.” He doesn’t know I’m bullshitting him, but I’ll do whatever I need to get answers. “You see, I’m not a Raider, Luis. I’m a Reaper. You know why they call us that? Because we bring them to death’s doorstep and we wait to see if the Reaper will collect. I told their Prez that’s what I was going to do today,” I kneel down to where my face is a mere inch away from his. “I said I was going to bring you to death’s doorstep and see if he takes you but . . . I’ll push you over the edge, even if he doesn’t want to drag you to hell. You see, I’m going to kill you. I won’t even lie and say I won’t if you give me the information they’ve been asking you for. You’ll still die, but the way you die depends on you.”

  A vibration comes from my pocket, informing me I have a text. I pull it out and see Blackjack’s sent a text through.

  From: Blackjack

  Dunno how they didn’t find this shit, but, he’s the guardian for his kids, two boys. Miguel is 8. Angelo is 12. The mom is in the slammer right now. Getting out in a week from the looks of it. If you need anything else just lemme know.

  Shit. I hate using kids against their parents, but I’ll do what I have to. I won’t actually hurt them, but their parents don’t know that. Sucks that both of their parents are no good pieces of shit. “Lemme make shit real clear for you, ese. If you don’t tell me what I wanna know I’ll just go to your family. Your two boys. Angelo and Miguel, is it?” Luis’ eyes widen, proving I’m on the right path.

  The door opens and closes. I turn to see Chains bringing the jumper unit up to me. He sets it on the ground beside me and goes to the far side of the wall, crosses his arms and watches. “I’ll just go after them. Kids are the best.” Kids are the best, fuckin’ light of the worlds, but Luis can think I mean best to torture. Fuck, if I ever run across someone who tortures kids the way I’m blatantly lyin’ about I’ll rip them apart like shredded pork and not even give it a second thought.

  Luis opens his mouth but shuts it. Ah, I’m striking a nerve with him. “Luis, it’s best to tell me what you know. I’m debating right now on whether to kill you first or drag your kids here and slowly kill them in front of you.”

  “You stupid motherfucker! If you touch them, I will burn you all down!” He thrashes against the chair, his fury clearly showing.

  “My, my. You seem to be a bit hot-headed. Ops, mind coolin’ him down?” I ask, callin’ out to the back where Ops had gone a few minutes earlier. Ops comes from the back of the cabin with a bucket and pours it over our lovely prisoner here.

  I bend down and turn on the unit, meeting the two ends together, sparking when they unite. “I want answers, Luis. Who hired you?” I pull the ends apart and bring them together again.

  “I’m not telling you anything, you sick fucker!” He hisses in a thick Mexican accent.

  Okay, now I won’t keep playing Mr. Nice Guy. I step closer to Luis and press the wired electricity against his skin, leaving it there for ten seconds. I count slowly in my head, so it’s actually more like fifteen. His screams fill the room even after I’m done. “You have a choice, Luis. You speak, or you scream. I might even give the same choices to your boys, so tell me. Who the fuck hired you to kill Yara and Xia.”

  Luis glares at me, fury running through his entire body. Good, this is what I need from him. “I will only ask you one more time, and then I go fetch your boys. I have your address on my phone here and I know who’s watching them since your ol’ lady is in jail. She doesn’t get out for another week, right?” I chuckle at the end, already knowing I have every bit of information I need.

  I meet the metal against Luis’ skin again, this time counting until thirty. I might’ve killed him because he thrashes insanely, so I pull the metal away. He’s breathing in and out so he’s still alive, interesting.

  “Alright, I’ll see you later. I’ve given it a lot of thought and I’m actually gonna start with Miguel, and then go to Angelo. I’ll kill you after I’m done with them . . . but I won’t bring them back here now. Nah, I’ll do it out in the desert and let the wildlife eat their bodies after they’ve decayed in the sun for a while.”

  Shit, as I say it the visual comes to my mind and I genuinely almost vomit. Hopefully I’m fakin’ this pretty damn good. We should know in a few minutes. I turn off the unit, grab the cables and head out the door, stopping in the frame. “Luis, you might be able to save your boys if you
tell me what I want to know. It all depends on you. Chains, you ready?”

  “Sure,” Chains responds, heading to the door.

  The two of us exit the cabin, walk to the truck and Chains hops in beside me. Yet he fails to turn it on. “Turn the truck on and start drivin’ like a jackass. I want him thinkin’ we’re speedin’ off to kill his kids. But only go about a mile and pull over to the side. I guarantee Ops will be callin’ you in a few with an answer of who hired him.”

  Chains nods, doing as I say and we pull off beside a small stream. We wait ten minutes and I see Chains pull his cell from his pocket, press it to his ear and answer. “Hey. He said what? Are you sure? You’re fuckin’ sure, right? Jesus Christ . . . I’m callin’ Breaker right now. This can’t wait.”

  Chains hangs up the phone and looks to me for a split second, “You get the answer you were lookin’ for?”

  “Yes and no. Wasn’t expectin’ this answer. One of Ice’s clubwhores is behind this. Her name’s Dusty. She’d been with the club for a while but disappeared a few years back. Fuck, motherfucker!” Chains slams his hand down on the dash in blind rage.

  “Brother, calm down. There’s nothin’ you could’ve done to prevent this.” I state, rememberin’ Octavia told me he was with her sister, Xia.

  “There’s somethin’ I could’ve done. Things shouldn’t have ever gotten this far.” He says.

  “No, it still would’ve happened, just in another way. Don’t beat yourself up about it. Now, get us back to your club so we can figure out a way to deal with this Dusty character.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  She is everything a man will desire and need, as well as everything a boy will not understand, value and take for granted.

  ~ Pierre Alex Jeanty

  Octavia

  It’s been over an hour since my conversation with Inc ended, and I’m not sure what was going on in his head. I invited him over for drinks tonight at the hotel, hoping he’ll accept it . . . but it sucks how I won’t know for a bit. My stomach keeps turning at every given moment. Fear, nerves and anxiety. They’re becoming so normal in my body that they might as well call it home.

  “Is that a joke?” Fury glances down to his phone, his eyes widened a good bit. He must’ve been caught by some sort of surprise.

  Chains and Zane went out to go handle something and in the meantime I’ve been told to stay here. Not that I want to leave. I may act stupid sometimes, but I’m not an idiot. The person or persons who murdered my sisters are still on the loose and until we know who’s behind their deaths, I won’t be going out by myself. It’s far too risky.

  “What’s up?” I inquire, sitting on a barstool across from him.

  “Breaker just sent a text out. Apparently, your man got some words outta that piece of shit. Breaker’s callin’ church in a few minutes to go over a game plan on how to get Dusty, what we’re gonna do and all that.”

  It feels as though someone just slammed their fist into my gut. Tears threaten to fall and I’m caught off guard. “Dusty’s behind it all?” I question, trying to replay everything in my mind. How she left. When she left. Yet I don’t think any of it looked out of the ordinary. She was around and then she left. That happens a lot of times with clubwhores.

  “That’s what it seems like. I won’t know more until church. Can you do me a favor and watch over the bar while I go upstairs?” Fury’s always been kind to me. He’s a real decent guy, and so is his brother, Agony.

  “Yeah. I think I can manage.”

  “You’re sure, right?” He asks.

  “Fury, I can do this. I’ve handled a few parties when clubs came into LA for the rallies. I can handle the ten people in here,” I say.

  “Thanks. I won’t be long, and you can keep the tips you earn while you’re down here.” Fury says while he walks around to the front of the bar and heads back toward the doorway that leads into the club. Within a minute he’s gone.

  I survey the club and figure within five minutes every brother in a five-mile radius will be here, have passed me and be on their way upstairs. There are only two entry points, in through the bar or going in the back alley to come in through the back door.

  “Hey, sweetheart. Can I get a refill down here?” A customer at the end of the bar asks. Immediately I walk down to where he’s sitting and pick up his glass. “Sure thing. What’re you drinking?”

  “Budweiser,” He states.

  I head over to the draft and fill his beer back up, take it over to him and check in with the couple sitting a few feet away, but they’re alright as well. There are some other customers around the bar sitting in tables and booths, but they know if they need anything to come straight up here.

  The door opens and I’m shocked at who I see.

  He stops dead in his tracks and blinks for what I assume is a few times before he walks up to me. “Didn’t know you were gonna be here,” My father states coolly.

  “Last minute trip.” I explain, keeping our conversation short on purpose.

  “Ah. How you likin’ it up in bumfuck nowhere?” He asks. Given the way our last face-to-face interaction went, I’m more than shocked he’s making small talk with me.

  “It’s nicer than I thought it would be. The Reapers are good people.” I say. I don’t know why I’m doing this, but I glance over his features and get a really good look at him. Maybe it’s because I don’t know when I’ll see him again and even though we fight hard, we love hard too. He might be a dick, but he’s still my father.

  His beard has grown another inch at least since our last meeting, and it appears he got his right sleeve completed. It was merely outlined last time. He has a koi fish and some words written in Chinese on his shoulder cap. His right forearm shifts into a beautifully covered dragon, ready to cast his flames on whomever it is that opposes him.

  “Good, I’m glad . . . you’re happy there.” He shifts his glance down and gnaws on his bottom lip. It’s a nervous tick I picked up from him.

  “Dad, is everything okay?” I know I don’t have to ask him, but I will ‘cause it’s the right thing to do.

  He nods once, “Yeah, just feelin’ sorry for myself, for the way I spoke to you that day. I’m sorry, O’ . . . but I didn’t have a choice. You know we needed this alliance or the club would fall and I ain’t ever been very good at havin’ a family, but I’m damn good at this.”

  As much as I don’t want to agree with him. He isn’t wrong. He was never the type of dad to show up to my soccer games, but he was there for the things that were more important in a sense. Like the time Betty Grotto tried to beat me up after school when I was twelve. He showed up with all the clubwhores on the back of bikes, decked out with spikey boots and bats in their hands. Betty ended up transferring to a different school. Even now I can still smile from it.

  “I know.” I keep my reply short and sweet, because I do know he didn’t have a choice. I know about the things he tried to keep a secret from me, about the Guatemalan gangs fucking things up for us for the last year. I know about the threats their leader has thrown our way, but I never let anyone in the club know of the knowledge I had. I learned from a young age that as a woman sometimes one of the smartest things we could do is sit back and be quiet, to not show everyone the cards you held in your hand.

  “Yeah well, I’d better get in there. Your brother said he had some news.” He mutters.

  “News? What kind of news? Fury only said they were having church.” I have no problem playing the part of the dumb woman.

  “Not sure yet. I’ll come talk to ya after.”

  “Sounds good.” I reply, just as a customer starts to call me over. They give me the perfect opportunity to get away from my father and refill their drink. By the time I’m done, no one else has come through the front door and I think I’m in the clear.

  I rap my knuckles against the bar, making sure everyone in here has their attention on me. “Listen up, folks. I have an errand to run so anything you need is on the house, courtesy of t
he Raiders MC. You don’t have to do anything except tell your friends what a great time you had here at The Clubhouse today.” I state, pulling Fury’s keys to his bike from the cubby he always keeps them in back here. Once they’re in my hand I walk around the end of the bar and head straight for the front door, exit the building, and approach his flaming red Harley Davidson.

  Before I know it, I’ve started up this mean beast and I’m long gone. I’m sure they’ve figured out what I’m doing by now but there’s no way my brother or the guys know where Dusty’s been holing up.

  After the talk with Inc I was scrolling around on my phone. Dusty follows me on Instagram and I peeked at her profile. She has a house in Compton, it’s one she’s had for quite a while. I think it was her mother’s place, but I’m not too sure. All I know is it should only take me about twenty minutes, depending on our horrific traffic.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible and when I leave, you will finally understand why storms are named after people.

  ~ PhuckYouQuote

  Zane

  My ears can’t be deceiving me right now. I’m standin’ on the sidelines of this room, starin’ at every motherfucker part of the Raiders MC, plus one. Ice is even here, sitting next to his son. Breaker is mid-way through his sentence when I interject.

  “Please tell me you sent one of your boys out for somethin’,” I grumble with my arms crossed, waitin’ to hear the answer I know is gonna come outta his mouth.

  Breaker shuts his mouth and looks right at me. “No. Everyone’s here.”

  I teeter a couple ideas in my mind about what that bike skiddin’ off could’ve been . . . but I’m not an idiot. “Did anyone say shit to Octavia about this?” I question, lookin’ to everyone in the room.