The Enforcer (Devil's Henchmen MC Book 1)

by Samantha McCoy

  “One time, I was probably around five, so my brothers were three and two; our mom was in the shower, but we all wanted peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. She told us to wait, but being impatient kids, that didn’t happen,” he laughed. “So, I remember I picked up the phone and dialed 911. I told the lady we were hungry and mom was in the bathroom. Next thing I know, there was a knock on the door and a police officer was there. He asked a few questions, and then came in and made us sandwiches. My mom walked out of the bathroom, in nothing but a towel. She freaked the fuck out,” Reaper told her the story, smiling at the memory. “There we were, sitting on the front steps of our ratty two-bedroom trailer in East Texas, eating PB&J, with a cop. I’ll never forget the look on my mom’s face,” he laughed.

  “Where was your dad?” she asked.

  “He worked oilfield and was gone most of the time. So mainly, it was just mom and us kids.”

  “That must have been rough on her,” Amber commented.

  “I’m sure, but she never let it show. My mom was, and still is, a force all of her own. That woman would carry the weight of the world on her shoulders, if it meant her family would be happy,” Reaper replied.

  “She sounds like an awesome woman.”

  “She is,” Reaper smiled. “I never realized exactly how much she sacrificed for us, until I was older.”

  “What do you mean?” Amber asked.

  “Sleepless nights, practically raising three kids alone, working endless hours just to keep us clothed and fed. We didn’t have a lot growing up and I hated that back then. I wanted all the cool stuff the other kids had, even as a teenager. She couldn’t always afford it, but she got it anyway. Looking back, I can see how much of a jerk I was,” Reaper explained.

  “At the same time, you can look at it as, she did what she needed to do to make you happy,” Amber told him.

  “Maybe,” he shrugged. “Last year, I took her on her first real vacation. We went to the Bahamas. I had huge plans for us. Things to do. Places to see. But my mother had other ideas,” he laughed. “She sat on the beach all day, for the first three days, drinking these fruity drinks with an umbrella in them. Said she always dreamed of doing that, and since it was her first chance to do it, she wasn’t going to mess it up.”

  “Hell, I don’t blame her,” Amber laughed.

  “You remind me of her in ways,” Reaper said. “Tough and doesn’t take any shit. It’s a good combination.”

  “Thanks.” Amber smiled.

  The drive to Amber’s apartment took a little over an hour. She and Reaper exchanged more stories, about themselves and their siblings. The easy banter continued. The tension and uncomfortableness, all forgotten. They were both still laughing as she unlocked the door and walked inside. But the moment she did, all laughter stopped.

  “Holy shit,” Amber whispered in total shock.

  Reaper looked around the living room, the place was trashed. Furniture was scattered here and there, walls were spray painted with gang graffiti and the words ‘we coming for you’ were painted on the wall directly across from the door.

  “Illiterate much?” Amber quipped.

  “Don’t!” Reaper scolded. “Don’t make jokes about this.”

  “Well,” she said, “It’s either that or cry. I’ll take the jokes.”

  He worked hard to control his temper. What the fuck? he thought. He would never understand the need some people had to destroy another person. Looking at Amber, he could see the tension was building again, this time for a different reason. Walking to her, Reaper wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest. He dropped a kiss to the top of her head.

  “Stop looking. There’s nothing we can do now. Let’s go to your bedroom and get some clothes.” He hated seeing her look so distraught.

  “This way.” Amber pulled away and walked down the hallway. Opening the door to her bedroom showed the same results.

  “Fuck me running!” she exclaimed. Reaper watched Amber look around the room, seeing her eyes fill with unshed tears.

  Clothes were thrown everywhere, some cut into tatters. The furniture was broken into pieces and again the walls were spray painted. This time, ‘you are mine’ was painted above the bed. Reaper pulled his phone from his pocket and sent a message to Sledge.

  “Hey man, the place is trashed. I’ll send pictures.”

  “How bad?” Sledge replied.

  “It’s bad. Really Bad!” Reaper returned.

  “Peaches, see what can be salvaged and let’s get out of here,” Reaper whispered, kissing the top of Amber’s head again.

  Taking pictures of the bedroom, Reaper sent them to Sledge. He walked back into the living room to take some of the damage in there, again sending them off to Amber’s brother.

  “What the fuck! I want the fucker found. He just signed his own death warrant,” Sledge replied.

  “I agree,” Reaper sent back.

  “Fuck! How is Amber? I’ll call the cleaning crew. They’ll get the place fixed,” Sledge responded.

  “She is quiet. Your sister is tough. She’s pissed, hurt, and probably a little scared, but she’ll get through it,” Reaper answered honestly.

  Reaper heard a door close behind him. Turning, he lifted his head to see Amber standing there, a look of total defeat on her face. She only had a few items in her hand. All that was probably left of her clothes. He held out his arms and after a second, she walked right into them. He held her while she cried, completely breaking his heart.

  Chapter Eight

  Amber

  Amber stood there, looking around her apartment in complete shock. How could he do this? What did she do that was so wrong? Everything was destroyed. She didn’t know how to feel, how to process it all. Everything was at war inside of her. Hate. Sadness. Shock. Even fear.

  She wanted to break down and cry, but she wouldn’t do that in front of Zander. She couldn’t. Amber hated, loathed, crying. Standing in her bedroom, she fought to control the urge. Zander finished snapping a few pictures, no doubt sending them to her brother. Devin would freak.

  After telling her to grab what she could Zander walked back out of the room. The moment she could no longer see him, the silent tears fell.

  What the hell was she supposed to take, Amber wondered.

  Her clothes were cut to shreds. She shuffled around the room picking up items that could be saved.

  She had to get herself under control. Taking a few extra minutes, she wiped off her face and took several deep, calming breaths.

  With only a few things, Amber walked out of the room. This would have to do, maybe Zander or Devin would take her by Wal-Mart, and she could just buy some new ones.

  Entering the living room, Amber stood there for a minute watching Zander on his phone. The look on his face promised retribution, and that just made her like him even more.

  When he looked up and noticed her, Amber couldn’t help the pull she felt towards him. Lifting his arms in a way that would offer comfort, Amber couldn’t have stopped her feet from moving in his direction, even if she wanted to. Zander wrapped her up and all of her walls fell, right along with even more tears. Her self-control was completely gone. She would hate herself for this weakness later, but right now, she would take comfort in knowing that at this moment, she wasn’t alone.

  “Come on Peaches, let’s get out of here. Your brother is sending over a cleaning crew. I promise, everything will get better,” he mumbled.

  Amber felt herself lifted up into Zander’s arms and carried out the door. For a strong woman, this should have bothered her, but for some unexplained reason, it just felt right. Amber snuggled into him a little closer. She felt precious and truly cared for; no one had ever held her and invoked those feelings from her, she thought.

  Suddenly, she heard her name being called and felt Zander tense. She would know that voice anywhere. Zander slowly lowered Amber to the ground and stepped in front of her, as a shield of protection.

  “Well hello. Hanging out
with the trash I see,” Ratchet said as he stepped out from beside his car. “Come here Amber, now!” he ordered causing Amber’s blood to reach boiling level.

  “You motherfucker!” she yelled. “You destroyed my apartment. My clothes.”

  “Amber, do as you are told,” Ratchet growled.

  “Screw you! You pencil dick weasel!” Amber shrieked.

  This was not the guy she dated for almost a year. He looked nothing like that guy. Yeah, his face was the same, but his clothes and mannerisms were completely different. The more she had to look at his face, the madder she became. Finally reaching her limit, Amber launched herself in his direction. At the last minute, Zander grabbed the back of Amber’s shirt, preventing her from damaging the rat’s face.

  “She isn’t going anywhere with you Ratchet, so fuck off before you get yourself hurt,” Reaper threatened. His voice deadly, promising violence.

  “Have it your way,” Ratchet sighed.

  Amber watched in horror as Joe pulled a gun from the back of his pants. She gasped loudly. Amber felt the air rush out of her lungs when her back slammed into a parked vehicle. Zander had thrown her out of the way before she could even fully process what was happening.

  “You are mine Amber,” Ratchet yelled. “If you will not come willingly, I will take you by force!” and then Amber heard a shot fired.

  She watched in total shock as Zander stumbled backwards, gripping his arm. At the same time, he was pulling his own gun and aiming it at Ratchet.

  “Bad mistake, bitch,” Zander said as he pulled the trigger. The bullet grazed Joe’s right shoulder as he dove into the backseat of his car; the next round of bullets sank into the open door and peppered the back of the car, shattering the window as it sped away.

  Amber rushed to Zander’s side, trying to remove her shirt to use it to put pressure on the wound. “I’m okay, it just nicked me,” he told her. “Woman! Pull your shirt back down, damn! Someone will see all your goodies,” Zander shook his head. “Shit!” he roared, pissed.

  Amber was in shock. She was woman enough to admit, she had never been so scared in her life. Zander grabbed her by the arm gently and hurried her to his truck. She just wanted to curl up in her bed at the clubhouse and never leave again. Zander opened the passenger door and started to lift Amber inside.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, concern evident in his voice.

  “Me? I’m not the one who was shot,” she answered bewildered.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shove you so hard. I saw him move for the gun and just needed you out of the way.”

  “Zander, I’m fine. I am more worried about your arm,” she protested, as he tried to lift her into the truck.

  “My arm is just fine. Now come here so I can help you climb into my overcompensating truck,” Zander said with a smirk.

  Amber just shook her head. How can he possibly be joking right now? The man was just shot and he is all of a sudden a damn comedian.

  “Should we wait for the cops? I’m sure with the noise, someone has already called the police,” she asked, not wanting to get in trouble for leaving the scene of a crime.

  “No. I’ll call your brother. He’ll inform our contact at the PD what happened. Come on, let me help you so we can get out of here.”

  Amber grabbed the door and started to pull herself up into the truck, but felt Zander’s hand on her butt helping to push her in. After sitting in the seat, Amber looked him over and couldn’t help but smile. Badass biker. Enforcer. Protector. Amber knew he was all of those things, and so much more. Today proved that, when he stood between her and a psycho with a gun. This is not how she envisioned her day. Not. Even. Close. But Amber was grateful that Zander was with her. She could handle her own, but not against a gun.

  Chapter Nine

  Reaper

  Climbing into the truck, he pulled his cell phone out and called Sledge. “We had a visitor on the way out. Shots were fired. I need you to call John and let him know in case anyone has reported it already,” he told Sledge when he answered.

  “Okay. Are you and Amber alright?” he demanded.

  “Yeah we’re good. All in a day’s work, right? Listen, have Banjo run plates on a white Mercedes, Texas plate WXC-4238,” Reaper rattled off as he pulled away from Amber’s apartment complex.

  “Will do,” Sledge said.

  Banjo was the craziest fucker Zander knew. The man wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty; and by dirty, he meant hacking into any and every database in the world - private, government - nothing could stop the old man. If a place had internet access, Banjo could get in it. Reaper had every reason to believe Banjo would find the car in a matter of minutes.

  “We’re heading back in,” Reaper said, ending the call.

  He looked over at Amber, noticing she was pale as a ghost. He reached for her hand to get her attention. He was worried about her, shock was finally setting in. “I’m okay. You’re okay. Everything will be fine,” he said.

  “Seriously Zander! You were just fucking shot! How is that okay? How?” Amber said, the lost expression gone, only to be replaced with anger.

  Reaper pulled the truck to the side of the road and pulled Amber over into his lap. He moved his hand to her chin, lifting her head so she would look him in the eyes.

  “It will be okay because I say it will and I always get what I want Amber,” Reaper told her. “Don’t think for a minute that piece of shit worries me because he doesn’t. I have lived through war in some of the worse places on this planet. Shit, I almost had my fucking leg blown off in Afghanistan. Do you really think a low-life drug dealer with a nine millimeter is going to faze me?” he asked.

  “That is beside the point, Zander; and you know it,” she said, trying to push out of his arms.

  “You’re so hot when you're mad,” Reaper mumbled.

  Not giving her a chance to respond, Reaper leaned in letting his lips connect to hers; halting her movements. It started as a slow build, but quickly turned into an inferno. Reaper gripped the back of Amber’s head, pulling her hair to position her exactly where he wanted it. He deepened the kiss. Amber moaned against his mouth.

  He used his tongue to sweep the outside of her lips and Amber opened for him, just as he wanted. The pain in his arm, long forgotten. Reaper had never been harder in his life. They continued to kiss like their lives depended on it. Cliché or not, that was exactly how it felt. Like the world would end as soon as their lips parted. When the kiss finally ended, both were gasping for breath.

  “We need to get back to the clubhouse. Quickly,” Reaper stated, causing Amber to giggle.

  She moved slowly back over to her seat, wiggling her ass against him and laughed even more when Reaper groaned. This woman was definitely going to be the death of him, he thought, but he couldn’t have been more excited about the prospect.

  The drive back to the clubhouse seemed to take twice as long. Probably because of the raging boner Reaper was continuously fighting. Pulling into the compound, they both groaned out loud. It seemed half the clubhouse was outside waiting on them. There was no way they could head to his bedroom now. Sledge walked over to the truck, before Reaper even had it parked. Ginx, the club’s nurse, wasn’t too far behind him.

  “Let me take a look at you, Reaper,” Ginx said, as soon as he opened his door.

  “It’s just a scratch Ginx. It’ll heal,” Reaper replied, really not needing all the attention when he was sporting a woody.

  He walked to the other side of the truck where Sledge was helping Amber climb out. Amber gave her brother a hug, but stepped over toward Reaper when he reached them. Sledge gave the two a curious look but only smiled, looking for all intents and purposes, rather pleased with himself.

  “Okay you two, my office. I want to know exactly what the hell happened,” Sledge ordered, walking towards the club, shaking his head.

  Reaper and Amber followed Sledge up the stairs and into his office. Both relayed the events of the day, minus the make-out session
in the truck. “So he was there waiting?” Sledge asked.

  “Maybe, but I don’t think so. If he was, why wait until we walked outside? Why not just corner us in the apartment? That’s what I would have done. Less witnesses. I’m thinking he had a look out who called him to let him know we were there,” Reaper replied.

  “Make more sense,” Sledge thought out loud. “Amber, are you okay?” he asked turning concerned eyes on his sister.

  “Yeah. I’m fine. Pissed the hell off, but fine. That piece of shit destroyed my apartment, Devin,” she relayed.

  “I know. Reaper sent me pictures. I sent a cleaning crew over. They’ll get everything put back together,” Sledge tried to reassure her.

  “Honestly, when the gun came out, I was scared shitless but, I don’t know. I wanted so badly to beat the hell out of Joe. Then the asshole had to pull a gun. Like what the hell am I supposed to do with that?” she asked throwing her hands up in the air. Reaper watched as she took a deep breath and blowing it out, trying to calm herself.

  “You do exactly what I made you do,” Reaper answered, “Get out of my way, so I can handle it.”

  Reaper watched as Amber rolled her eyes at his comment. He knew he sounded like a male chauvinist, but he didn’t want to see her get hurt. Reaper would lay his life down to protect her.

  “Alright,” Sledge said. “I’m waiting to hear back from Banjo. He located the car on a few traffic cams and was able to trace the plate. It came back to Ratchet’s apartment in Deep Ellum. But Banjo is still searching for more information. The more we know, the better we’ll be. Go get cleaned up, I’ll let you know when I hear back from him again,” Sledge said as he walked over to Reaper and gave him a hug.

  “Thank you for keeping her safe,” Sledge said into Reaper’s ear. Reaper nodded his head in acknowledgement.

  “Always Brother,” Reaper replied, and left the office.