by Simone Elise
Reaper’s Redemption
Simone Elise
Copyright © 2017 by Simone Elise.
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Epilogue
Chapter 1
Reaper
It was as if the planet stopped moving. It was as if everything that kept me sane and glued to this earth was gone. Every time I closed my eyes, images of what could be happening to Abby filled me. It was all my fault. I had put her in danger. I had left a loose end. And now? Now I was following the only lead I had. And I wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
“I know you, Reaper. I was at your wedding.” Jones sucked on a cigar, looking across at me as if he knew me. As if he knew what I was capable of. As if he understood the anger boiling inside me. “I understand what you’re after. But I can’t give it to you.”
“I’m not asking.” Had I not made my point clear? I wanted answers. I get the fucking answers. It’s not if you want to answer me. There was no choice. I’d take what I wanted and right now, I was ready to break bones to get those answers.
“Where does the brotherhood stand on this?”
Where did he think the brotherhood stood? They stood behind me. They didn’t dare not.
I looked around the room.
Five men. Wasn’t many to take. Brad could take at least two. I could knock the other three out. What did I have on me? Two guns, a knife and two fists. That would be all I needed to get the job done.
“Reaper, where does the brotherhood stand on this?” Jones repeated himself. “Or is this a suicide mission?”
“It’s Jed Harrison’s daughter.” I reached into my vest and pulled my gun from my left holster. “And my wife. So you either answer, or I’ll make you answer.”
“Threatening another brotherhood. Is that wise, Reaper?” His voice had an edge to it. Some would take that as a warning. Some might back down. But I wasn’t just anyone. My nerves were raw. My anger was uncontrollable and right now, the only lead depended on Jones and his muppets of members.
They knew where the drug houses were. They knew where Jake operated. He trafficked ice. I knew that much. But I didn’t know how or where. Jones’ black brotherhood did the hardcore drugs. Roach had little to do with it because he believed the drug ruined more lives than anything else and only bottom feeders would make a living from it.
He was right about one thing. Jones’ crew were bottom feeders. Feeding off the junkies by running protection for Jake.
The tension in the room was thick. Brad, standing behind me, already had his gun pulled. So did Jones’ members. They were just waiting for my next move. This move could decide if I found Abby or not. I had to think smart. Even though my mind was racing. Even though I could barely function.
“The decision is yours, Jones. You either go to war against us, or you feed us intel. Either way, you are making an enemy today.” This was me keeping calm. We had been at peace with the black brotherhood for years. Was I ready to risk that friendship and bring on bloodshed just for information? Fuck yes.
I wasn’t called the Reaper because I was afraid of blood. I saw it as simply as this: it was blood in or blood out. You either stood with Satan’s Sons, in it with your blood, willing to put your life on the line, or you didn’t.
He kept a steady face, calculating. Risk money or risk lives.
Fuck this. I was over waiting.
I pulled out my gun, clicking the safety off.
“Well, how could we go to war against our brothers? Jake earns us money. But you are family.” Jones’ crooked grin was met with my gun to his forehead. Like I said, my patience was up. “Now, now, brother. No need for guns. You lower the gun and I’ll start talking.”
I liked the feeling of having my gun pressed to his forehead. Right in the middle, between his eyes. It was with regret I pulled back, leaving a circular imprint.
“Details.” I put my gun back in its holster.
“He runs them up the coast. But all the drugs come through here. We run protection from here to there. But he has houses. He also has a sideline job, you could say.”
“That being?”
“I don’t think you wanna hear it.”
“Do I have to pull my gun again?” I was on edge, ready to bounce.
Jones’ eyes flicked to my vest. At my threat, their guns went back up. Brad reacted. But he was shifting his gun from man to man, trying to determine which one would fire first.
“He traffics women.” Jones licked his lips. “Younger ones, but he has a connection with the overseas market. It’s his side business. Not where he makes the most of his money.”
That gut-pulling, heart-wrenching, blood-boiling feeling suffocated me. But I pushed the possibility to the back of my mind. Jake was smart. He would keep Abby close. He wouldn’t be shipping her off.
No, he wanted to torture me and it was going to be slow and painful.
But I would make sure I was the one having the last laugh. I’d be the one putting him in the ground for doing this to my family.
“Next protection run you do, we are joining. I want a list of the houses he is set up in.” I reached into my leather vest and pulled out a cigarette, needing one now more than I had ever needed one. My stress levels were high.
I hadn’t slept in days. But that was nothing to the pain I felt every day knowing Abby was out there, alone, kidnapped. A disgusting feeling washed through me at the thought of what they could be doing to her, how they would be treating her. She had to know I’d come for her. She had to know that every bone, blood vessel and beat of my heart would drive me to find her.
That I’d never give up.
“What you going to do? Bust down every door?” Jones sniggered. His men joined in.
I looked him dead in the eye, inhaling on my cigarette and exhaling slowly. “That’a fucking promise.”
I’d knock down door after door till I found Abby.
***
My Harley roared as I pulled up to the clubhouse. To say we were full was an understatement. Roach had called in all the charters. The town was crawling with bikers. It had gotten to the point that every bed was full, so hotels and motels were now full up with bikers as well. Roach had to pay more because of the risk of possible damage.
Bikers were known for leaving a trail of destruction.
There was barely any room on the lot tha
t wasn’t taken up with bikes or vans. However, being a president meant you got a spot. Brad wasn’t as lucky and parked out on the road.
I was taking my helmet off when I heard a familiar voice.
“I’m telling you NOW. You come near him again, I’ll chop your hand off!” Kim screamed at Drunk Duke, waving a knife at him.
Kicking my kickstand out, I lowered my bike and walked over. Seeing as Kim was meant to be looking after Tyson today, I wanted to know where my son was.
“I just wanted to give him a hug.” Drunk Duke was slurring and it was only mid-morning. There was a reason why we called him Drunk Duke. He was never sober. He had been a president for years. His charter was small. Only did petty crimes. When I said Roach had pulled every charter, I wasn’t joking. Even a useless one like Drunk Duke’s.
“WITH A CIGARETTE! How many times do I have to say it? NO SMOKING AROUND TYSON! You could’ve burnt him!”
Rounding the corner, I got an answer to my question as to where my son was. He was safe in the stroller next to the table used for food prep. Looked like Kim was chopping up meat for the BBQ.
Her eyes flickered over Duke’s shoulder and she spotted me.
“Thank fuck Reaper’s back.” She said the words and automatically, Duke scooted inside. Didn’t know the old man could walk that fast.
“Kim.”
“Do you know this whole place is a hazard? Smoking alcoholics everywhere.” Kim waved her knife. “I swear every biker has made it their mission to be near Tyson.”
“Put down the knife, Kim.”
“Oh.” She frowned at it, as if she had completely forgotten she was holding it, and then put it down. All while she had one hand on the stroller, rocking it.
“Tyson been OK apart from being attacked by alcoholics?”
She peeked into the stroller. “Yep, slept all day. How was he last night?”
I ran a hand through my hair. I think my lack of sleep was showing. “Awake.”
Kim frowned. “Do you want me to take tonight?”
“Nope. My responsibility, Kim.” I lowered myself to my knees. Sure enough, he was asleep, his two little arms in the air.
“Abby wouldn’t expect this of you.”
Just her name was enough to send a sucker punch to my guts. I had made a promise to her that I would be a hands-on dad. And I wasn’t about to wipe my hands of that responsibility because I needed sleep. I could keep going on a few hours a night. That was all I needed, physically.
“We have talked about this, Kim. I’m not expecting you to take him on full time.“
“Yeah, but,” Kim bit her lip and looked at the clubhouse as if double-checking we were alone, “I’ve been hearing talk.”
“What about? Tyson?”
“No, you.” She lifted her chin up, ready to defend what she was going to say. “You’re taking over from Dad.”
I had dreaded having this conversation with Abby, which was why I had put it off. Now I was going to have to step into her father’s shoes, without her opinion or approval. I ran a hand through my hair and straightened up. Kim was giving me a look I had seen on her sister’s face. Judgment. Abby might not be here to give her opinion or approval, but her twin was. And by the looks of it, she was about to give me a serve.
“Taking over the mother charter, Reaper, when Abby is missing? . Should you really be taking on MORE responsibility?”
“This was planned before Abby went missing. And your father is pushing for it more now because of her being missing.”
“It’s a lot of pressure, Reaper.”
“Are you forgetting, Kim? I’m already a president.”
“Of a small charter. This is the mother charter. You will be in charge of the other presidents. Of their members. Not to mention this is the biggest charter in the country. That is a hell of a lot more pressure. AND you are going to be under the police’s microscope.”
I knew all this. I knew what would happen when I took over from Roach. Overseeing the presidents was just one of the many jobs I’d be taking over. Looking after the mother charter was like putting a target on my back for the police to chase. Taking over from Roach wasn’t a simple decision. Every president would vote. Then it would be determined if I was up to the task.
“I know what’s involved.”
She shook her head, her blonde hair whipping from side to side. “I don’t think you do. Because if you did, you wouldn’t be letting Dad shove this down your throat.”
“I can do this.” I was saying it to her but also to myself. I could be the president of the mother charter. I could take care of my son. And I could spend every hour I wasn’t asleep looking for Abby. I could do it.
She sighed. “Speaking from experience, I can tell you now. You will be looked on as a father. And the shit doesn’t stop.”
The one question that was rumbling around inside me surfaced again. And I couldn’t stop the words from coming out of my mouth. “What do you think Abby would think?” Kim was her twin. She would have some insight.
Kim chewed her bottom lip, frowning. Then her blue eyes locked with mine with confidence. “She would have given you a similar lecture. But she would want you to do it if it is something you want. She wouldn’t stop you.”
Was it something I wanted? It was more expected of me. I was Roach’s son-in-law. He wanted to hand the club to family. Then, if Roach had his way, I’d hand the club over to Tyson.
Roach was big on family. But you would have to be to be the leader of the brotherhood.
“You should go inside, update Dad with whatever you have been doing. I’ve got to get this meat on and feed the overbearing men.” Kim’s attention was back on the food. “Knowing them, they will turn tonight into another party.”
“I’ll take Tyson.”
Just as I went to pick him up, she slapped my hand away. “They are all smoking cigars, playing poker. He isn’t going in there.”
“You have to cook.”
“The girls will help me. You go. Maybe go get some sleep.” She gave me a pointed look. “Because, knowing Tyson, you won’t be getting any tonight.”
She was right. I wouldn’t be getting sleep tonight. And it wasn’t just because Tyson was giving me broken sleep. It was because my wife wasn’t with me. It was because every minute I had my eyes closed, I was tortured with what could be happening to her.
“I should update Roach. I’ll be back for him.” I pointed at Tyson.
Kim waved her hand. “Don’t rush.”
I left her cutting up steaks and went inside. She wasn’t joking when she said they had been smoking. The air was thick with smoke. They had pulled tables together and created one big one in the middle of the rec room.
Roach stood up as soon as I entered.
“How the fuck did it go?” he barked across the room.
“How did it go for you?” I fired back at him. Seeing as his merry men were all gambling and drinking, I doubted they had done much else today.
“Dead ends all morning.” Roach walked around the table and headed for me. “Any luck tracking down Jones?”
“Tracked him down. Threatened him. And he sided with the brotherhood. We are running with them on their protection runs. He is going to feed us their addresses as well.”
Roach grinned for the first time in a week. “Finally getting somewhere.” Relief flooded his face.
He was right. It was our first real lead. Our first chance of getting Abby back, of finding her. Today marked a week since she was taken. A whole fucking week.
“Now we are getting somewhere with that, it’s time us boys sat down.” Roach looked me in the eye and I knew exactly what he was talking about.
The vote.
I looked over his shoulder at the many presidents watching us, smoking cigars and drinking. All these men had to support me. Sure, I had a reputation, but it wasn’t a good one. I was known for cleaning up the dirt, not for leading men.
�
��It’s got to be done, son.” Roach pulled me back. I looked him in the eye.
“Why now? Can’t we wait till we find Abby?”
“’Cause I need it to be now.” Roach was pushing for this. “I know the timing isn’t right but at the same time, it’s fucking perfect. You need these men following you.” Roach’s hand fell on my shoulder, gripping it. “They’ve followed me for too long.”
“You’re good at what you do, Roach.”
“And now it’s time for the mother charter to have a new president. Too darn old to be taking on their problems. I trust you with this club like I’m trusting you to find my daughter.” Roach turned and clapped his hands. “PRESIDENTS TO THE BOARDROOM,” his voice boomed through the room.
Chairs dragged across the floor and the presidents started to get up.
Whether I became the next mother charter president was about to be determined.
Did I have it in me or not? Would my reputation hold me back? Fuck. My past had haunted me this long. If there was one thing I was good at, it was being the Reaper. I could threaten. I could kill. If someone had to label me, a killer would be the first thing off the tongue. I doubted leader would be one of my named qualities.
***
I watched Roach cut it off with his knife. How long had it been on there? Abby was in her twenties. And it had been on there that long, maybe longer. All eyes in the room were on me as Roach handed me back my leather vest.
Now freshly sewed under my president patch was a patch saying ‘Mother Charter’. President of the mother charter.
The votes had been all in my favor. Not one president objected to it or even voiced concerns. Roach had made a speech about how I was the future of this brotherhood. And now, well, now I was staring at the old, but now new, patch on my vest.
“Well, put it on, boy!” Roach whacked me on the back, jolting me forward.
There were cheers as I slipped the vest on. Roach handed me the hammer.
“I think the new president should call this meeting to a close.”
My hand gripped the old hammer. And then brought it down, bringing my first ever president meeting to a close.
