Frost (Reapers MC Book 15)

by Elizabeth Knox

  Zane takes a step closer to Boomer, going chest-to-chest with him. “Let me make one thing very fucking clear, Boomer. It’s me you don’t want to start a war with, not the other way around. So, take a fucking breath and decide on whether your blood is going to be spilled over my new floors tonight, or if you’re going to walk away and never come near our territory again. Your sister is a Reaper and we protect our own.”

  Boomer glares at Zane just like our father glared at us as children. He’s everything our father was—vile, deceptive, and above all else a monstrosity. I’ve given up hope on my brother, knowing very well he’ll stay his dark self for the rest of his days.

  “Get the fuck out and don’t make me say it again.” Zane warns.

  It happens so quickly just like Frost’s gun being pulled out and Bull punching him. I’m being toppled to the ground by Frost and our bodies hit the floor as a gunshot rings out. My heart beats heavily in my chest. My pulse pumping so hard I can hear it in my head. I look in every direction, and then I see him—Bull, on the floor with blood pooling around him.

  Oh God.

  No.

  No!

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Respect is earned. Honesty is appreciated. Trust is gained. Loyalty is returned

  ~ Unknown

  Frost

  Fuck. Is she okay? Is she hurt?

  I rake my eyes over Cheyenne, looking for the crimson color that’ll tell me if she’s been hurt. Maybe it’s insane I care so much this early on, or maybe it’s only natural. I don’t really know but it’s something I can figure out later.

  “Bull!” Cheyenne’s scream is blood curdling as she tries to rush her way over to him, but I yank her leg and pull her down.

  She slaps me across the face to try and get to him, so I grab her by the throat and pin her on the ground. “Stay the fuck down until it’s clear,” I hiss just as gunshots ring out in the club. I kneel and look over the couch, seeing a couple of her brother’s guys are here. Aiming quickly, I pull the trigger and knock them down one by one. There’s only one problem.

  “Where the fuck is Boomer?” Zane roars, sounding like a caged lion.

  I scan my eyes across the space in an attempt to identify any other targets when I realize Cheyenne has made her way over to Bull. She’s pulling his cut back and pushing his white t-shirt up, exposing his stomach where the blood is oozing out of.

  As much as I try, I can’t keep my eyes off her surroundings. I have to make sure she doesn’t get hurt. God, she’s acted so stupidly, darting across the room while we’re in the middle of a fuckin’ shoot out. And if we somehow make it through this, she could be the woman I’ve been waiting my whole life for.

  “No idea, Prez.” Dracus reports back from the other end. Meanwhile, Tex peers out through the window to the front of the Reapers’ property.

  “Looks like a few of ‘em got away,” Tex tells Zane.

  “God, fuck.” A gurgled voice groans in pain.

  I stand up and look around the club, seeing four bodies on the floor. They’re directly by the front door, meaning Boomer probably used them as shields to get his ass out of here. I hear a wheezing sound and go over to where it’s coming from, finding a blond man pointing a gun at me. I quickly kick him in the face and disarm him, only to see the name on his cut.

  “Zane, you should come over here. We’ve got a live one.” I say, keeping my gun trained on him. One wrong move and I’ll blow his fucking brains out.

  Zane makes his way over to where I am, right behind the coffee table and chuckles. “Jesus, how’d you manage to get caught back here?”

  This isn’t any man. Boomer somehow left the most important person in his club behind, living and breathing. It looks like he has a slug caught in his shoulder, but otherwise he seems fine.

  Silence is the only thing we’re met with.

  “Dracus, Bolt, get over here and watch Gears.” Gears, the VP to the Corrupt Kings MC.

  “Fuck, I need my medical bag. Now!” Cheyenne cries out, sounding desperate and afraid.

  “Stiletto, Siren, go get that shit from Chey’s place.” Zane orders to the only other two female prospects the club has. “The rest of you, go secure the perimeter. And tell me who’s at the fucking gate, will you? We need someone at the fucking gate, and this is exactly why!” God, he’s pissed.

  Zane turns back to where Zorro and Hammer are standing, “I need you two to check on the women and kids. Stay there with them until I say otherwise.”

  “Sure thing, Prez.” Hammer nods, agreeing to do whatever he needs to. Zorro quietly walks off with Hammer, heading to the bunker.

  Meanwhile, I go over to where Cheyenne is. She has tears streaming down her face and I know she’s helped people like this in the past, but I doubt she’s ever had a friend shot in front of her. Kneeling down on the other side of Bull, I look into her eyes. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Disinfectant, I need something to clean the wound with, I need towels . . . I need . . . God, I need so much shit that we don’t have.” She spits out, sticking her hand into the wound.

  His face grimaces, but it appears he’s passed out.

  “God, if anyone knew I had my hand in him right now, I’d lose my license.” Cheyenne says moving her hand around when she suddenly speaks again, “Got it!”

  “Got what?”

  “A bleeder. The bullet must’ve nicked an artery. I can close it up. I have surgical grade sutures in my medical bag.”

  Stiletto rushes in with her medical bag and drops down on the other side of Bull, she opens the bag up and looks at Cheyenne. “What do you need?”

  Cheyenne looks into the bag, “The thing that looks like scissors, but is grated toward the end.”

  Stiletto pulls out exactly what she’s asking for. “Okay, good, and now a needle, but it’s curved, not like a sewing needle.” Cheyenne keeps giving her direction, and Stiletto pulls that out as well. I figure there isn’t anything else she needs, but Cheyenne orders out more stuff and Stiletto hands it over within a few seconds of asking.

  Cheyenne turns her head over to Siren, “Get me vodka, please.”

  “Sure!” Siren replies, rushing over to the bar she grabs a mostly full bottle and brings it over.

  “Pull the top off and pour it over everything Stiletto just pulled out for me, then give me a sip.” Cheyenne mutters, looking up at Bull’s face for a split second. I can see the worry and fear spreading across her expression. She’s terrified, and if I was in her position I would probably be too.

  Siren pours the vodka over her instruments and gives her a sip. Siren puts the vodka on the ground and then Cheyenne works quickly, but she glances at me for a quick second. “Siren, I need a light on this wound.” Cheyenne tells the girl, then grabs the bottle of vodka from the floor and pours it over my hands. “I know you don’t have any medical training, but I need you to keep his skin open for me, just like this, okay?” Cheyenne uses her left hand to place my fingers where she needs me to hold his skin apart, and I really feel like I’m going to vomit.

  Instead of looking down at the gaping hole in Bull’s body I keep my eyes on Cheyenne, on the way she furrows her brows when she’s really concentrating. I don’t know how much time passes, but at least it is. “Okay, good. We’re good. I tied it off. Now, I need you to help me get him up. I need to see if the bullet is still in there.”

  Out of nowhere Blackjack comes up, helping us lift Bull’s body. He pulls his shirt up, “It’s a through-and-through.”

  “Thank fuck.” Cheyenne releases a breath wiping her forearm across her head, pulling away the sweat.

  “There’s the bullet,” I tell them, stuck in our brand-new wooden floors.

  “You have medical training, right Blackjack?”

  He nods, “Yes, I was an Army medic back in the day, so if you need help let me know. I’m here.”

  “Thank you. I’d appreciate your assistance.” Cheyenne tells him.

  “You got it. Frost, go clean you
rself up and see what Zane needs from you. I’ll stick with your girl,” Blackjack pours the vodka over his hands and quickly replaces my fingers with his. I stand up and don’t even bother correcting him. For some reason, I liked what he said, and I’m not complaining about it.

  I walk off into the kitchen to get cleaned up, hoping Zane has some sort of plan for what he’s going to do. They can’t get away with this. One of our own might lose his life because of it.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  We suffer more often in imagination than in reality

  ~ Seneca

  Cheyenne

  “He’s going to be okay?” Alexa asks, her chest heaving in the process.

  I nod, “He will, as long as he’s on bedrest for a week and doesn’t lift anything for a few weeks. I mean it, Alexa. He needs to take it easy and you need to make sure he does. If he pushes it, he could rip the sutures and bleed out on the inside.”

  Alexa rushes into my arms and squeezes me tight, “Oh my God, thank you so much. Thank you so fucking much for saving my big dummy’s life.”

  I return her embrace, “Your big dummy is lucky. This could’ve been a lot worse.”

  She lets go of me and nods. “I know it could’ve, but I’m so grateful it wasn’t.”

  “You’re not helpin’ my case, you know.” Bull grits from bed. He’s been confined here for a day already, much to his dismay. He’s about ready to choke me out and tell Alexa he can go walk about and whatnot, but I won’t have him hurting himself any worse.

  “You’re sure it’s okay for us to stay here? We’re not imposing too much, are we?” Alexa questions.

  I shake my head, “No, it’s perfectly fine. Plus, if you need something I’m right here, and given the extent of his injuries I think it’s better he’s close.”

  “Thank you so much.” Alexa murmurs, going back to her seat beside Bull’s bed.

  He’s staying here in my house, in the room downstairs. Zane and I spoke earlier today and he stated this house can be mine, but I need to keep the room downstairs open for people from the club who might get hurt. Kind of like a hospital room in a way.

  “Can you bring me Tigger if you’re gonna be down here?” Bull asks.

  I want to tell him no because he’s been a giant ass of a patient, but, I can’t. Not bothering to answer I walk into the hallway and head into the living room, scoop up his little orange cat and take him to Bull on the bed. I plop him on the side and Bull scratches behind his ears, getting to hear up close and personal how Tigger purrs the loudest out of all his siblings.

  The last twenty-four hours have been some of the most intense in my life. Without seeing my brother and the shooting going down, I found out something I wasn’t quite expecting.

  A loud rap comes to my front door, so I rush over to it and unlock the deadbolt, pulling the door open. “Zane, I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

  “Sorry, just wanted to come here and give you an update about what’s going on with your brother.”

  I shrug, “To be quite honest, I don’t really care about what happens to him. I just want him to leave me alone.”

  “You’re talking like something bad happened between the two of you.” Well, he’s captain obvious.

  I nod, “Yeah, my childhood wasn’t exactly flowers and butterflies.”

  “Anything I should know about?” Normally I’d be pissed, accusing someone of being a nosey asshole, but Zane isn’t like most people. He seriously only asks questions if it’ll impact the club in any way.

  “No, I don’t think so . . . but if things change, I’ll empty out my closet of skeletons for you. But—” I shut my mouth, debating on whether or not I should let Zane in on something he should’ve known for years now.

  “But?” He questions, staring into my eyes.

  I suck in a deep breath and release it before I speak again. “My brother isn’t like you. He’s . . . he’s a foul man, Zane. He’s just like our father, but so much worse. He’s great at hiding who he really is and I only know what he’s like because he pulled down his façade many times in front of me. I won’t go into the details, but I know you dealt with Grizzly Jones. Imagine someone ten times worse than him. That’s Boomer. He is worse, and I pray no one here has to see how bad he is . . . but . . . you have something he wants—me.”

  “I have something else he’ll want, his VP.” Zane smirks, “And he might be more important than you, Cheyenne. Regardless, you’re a Reaper now and we protect our own. Even if it means spilling blood, you will be guarded. You’re non-negotiable. Do you understand me?”

  I hear him loud and clear, nodding my head so he knows I get it. “Zane, I need to talk to you about something else.”

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  “Can it be somewhere a bit more private?”

  He gives me an odd look and walks inside, shutting the door behind him, he follows me to the dining room with the pocket doors. I shut the pocket doors and take a seat at the table. “Is everything okay?” He asks, knowing very well something is up.

  “I’m not sure how to answer that question. On one side I want to say yes, but then again, I also want to say things are going to be a bit messy and apologize in advance for any problems it may cause you.”

  Zane raises his hand and brushes it through his hair, “Look, Chey’, this shit with your brother. You don’t have to worry about none of that stuff. We’re good.”

  If only it were about Boomer. “This has nothing to do with my brother.” I inform him, trying to find the right words to get this off my chest.

  “Okay, tell me what I’m missing.”

  “I’m not going to beat around the bush, Zane, okay?”

  “Alright,” He replies, seeming a bit annoyed at this point. I keep pushing it off, trying not to say it, but it’s only because I’m fucking worried. I’m scared. I’m more vulnerable than I’ve ever been before.

  “I need a favor from you, if possible. I need you to tell Chaz to get up here. You can tell him it’s to help with the bullshit with my brother since Bull is down for the count for a few weeks at least . . . but, I need to speak to him face-to-face.”

  “I was planning on pulling someone up from Vegas temporarily anyway since we’re a man down, but obviously I’m missing something.”

  I suck in a deep breath and blow it out. “This morning I found out I’m pregnant, and Chaz is the father. I’d rather not tell him something so important over the phone . . . so I’d appreciate it if . . . you could get him up here so I could tell him in person.”

  “Hot damn, that’s some shit . . . I thought you were into chicks?”

  “I’m into both,” I tell him with a bit of sassiness in my tone.

  “So, are you still with Frost?”

  I nod, “Yeah, I . . . I told her this morning right after I found out. She was shocked but her and I are taking things slow. We have this connection and it’s undeniable on both our sides, so we’re going to try this, to be together even though things could get super messy. She said she’s at a point in her life where she wants to settle down and have kids . . . and maybe this happened for a reason or whatever. I think she’s just trying to make me feel better.”

  Zane’s expression shifts into a half smile, “Yeah, sounds about right. Frost is always doin’ shit like that for people in the club.”

  I nod, agreeing with him.

  “I’ll get him up here, but Cheyenne, I need to tell you something now. You’re not the only baby momma Chaz has right now, and I don’t want that to be a shocker.”

  “What?” I ask, a bit taken aback.

  “His girlfriend, Crina, she’s pregnant.” I’ve never seen a man more uncomfortable than Zane right now. I don’t suppose he’s ever been the man who wants to bear bad news, but this isn’t bad per say, just messier than I originally thought.

  “Oh, wow.” I murmur, not sure what to make of this.

  I’m not trying to be Chaz’s woman, but I’m also not trying to hide this from him. It’s messy en
ough that I’m dating an amazing woman while pregnant with my best friend’s child, a man I obviously fucked one time but knew it would never work out romantically with. We’re two different people and there’s not much else that can be said about it.

  “I’ll get him up here, though. Don’t you worry at all, ‘cause I’ll make sure he gets up here soon. I imagine this is eating you up inside, so we’ll get you sorted.”

  Zane has no clue how this makes me feel, and to be quite honest, I don’t know either.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “You’re not very easy to forget.”

  ~ Curiano.com

  Frost

  “Frost, have a second to chat?” Zane questions, motioning for me to come over to the other side of the club, away from the other prospects. We’ve been cleaning the clubhouse, bleaching every spec of it that blood might’ve touched since early this morning. But of course, that was after my newfound girlfriend told me she’s pregnant, with her best friend’s fucking kid. I’m still reeling from it. I mean, I’m shocked as hell . . . but I can’t be mad at her. We weren’t together and apparently, they slept together before we even met, meaning it’s when I was out visiting my mom, or Elena, Reed, and the kids.

  I nod and walk over to where he is. We’re out of everyone’s earshot which makes me a bit nervous. Usually, if Zane has something to say, he’ll say it in front of everyone else, using it as a moment to teach others what not to do, or what to do.

  “I just came back from chatting with Cheyenne, and she told me about . . . you know. I’m going to be making a call to Damon that I’m pulling Chaz up to Montana permanently. But, I’m not gonna do that until I know right now that you two won’t start shit.”

  “I can’t speak for him, Prez, but I don’t have any issue with Chaz.”