Deception: The Reapers Series Book Two

by Bo Reid

  She hops on his back and he gives her a piggyback ride before letting her down to climb into a blacked-out jeep wrangler. Speaking of not being subtle, all their personal vehicles are blacked out, complete with illegal tint.

  Morana

  It's getting rather tiresome to keep up the Morana is totally fine act, but I can’t let anyone know I might not be okay. I’m supposed to be the one to take care of the guys, to take care of everything. They’re mine to look after and I don’t want to be a burden to them, a problem.

  But I can already tell it’s going to be exceptionally fun to mess with Agent Talin Marks. Twenty-six years old, born and raised in Calliope, Montana, only child, father was a sheriff deputy who died in a shootout, the case remains unsolved.

  Smart, ended up with a full-ride scholarship to college where he excelled, and the FBI handpicked him from his graduating class. He’s steadily climbed his way up the FBI ladder, and he’s been saddled with the crooked Agent Malic Connors for two years.

  And did I mention he’s damn good looking too? I mean for a cop and essentially my sworn enemy if I actually had those.

  Oh, wait, yeah, that’s right, I totally do.

  He has dark dirty blond hair with a standard-issue FBI cut, blue eyes darker than the ocean, and he fills out his cheap suit like no one’s business. Just imagine how a properly tailored suit would hug every inch of cut muscles. I bet he spends any off time in the gym, and I did spy a tattoo or two on his arms. I bet he’s one of those guys with a six-pack and a happy trail.

  God damn, what’s wrong with me? You know, besides the usual.

  “You want me to come in?” Nash asks as we park in the hospital parking lot.

  “No, I want you to go chat up little Miss FBI,” I tell him as I glance in the rearview mirror and see our tail pulling up a few spaces away.

  “And how do I do that with Mr. FBI in the car too?” he asks.

  I smile when I look over at him, “He’s coming in with me.”

  “Morana, no,” Nash says, firmly shaking his head.

  “It’ll be fine Nash, he’s not the one. He’s a good guy with a hard-on for justice. He won’t do anything out of line.”

  “Remember the last guy we thought was just another good guy?”

  “Are you really asking me if I’m going to forget about that anytime soon? 'Cause I won’t, Nash, but I don’t want to be coddled, and you guys can’t treat me like glass. I can go places on my own. I’m not broken, and I refuse to let him dictate my life when he’s already fucking dead.” My breath is ragged and short as my chest rises and falls, attempting to bring air into my lungs. I take a moment to center myself, to calm my racing thoughts and mentally pull my fog back around me.

  Nash puts his hands up in surrender. “That’s not how I meant it and you know it. Take a deep breath. I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he says gently taking my hand in his.

  “Too little, too late,” I whisper.

  “I just want to help. You were doing good. You even said she was silent. But what about now, Darlin'?”

  I flash him a wicked smile. “Now? Now she’s thrashing to rip someone's fucking throat out,” I say with a dark chuckle before I climb down from the jeep.

  I’m suddenly wondering why I needed to have the thing lifted when I’m barely five foot two, and of course I couldn’t have running boards. Silly little girl.

  “Damn it, Morana!” Nash yells as he slips out of the jeep as well. “Would you stop for five seconds and talk to me?”

  “Nope,” I say, popping the p.

  “What are you going to do when you can’t fight what she wants anymore?” he calls after me.

  Turning around to face him in the middle of the parking lot I shrug. “Why would I fight her? She’s demanding payment for our pain, and I tend to agree with her methods of getting what is owed to us.”

  Stepping up to me and gently gripping my chin in his hand, Nash whispers, “And The Reaper only accepts blood.”

  “It’s the best form of payment, one everyone can afford,” I reply, and he closes his eyes briefly but nods his acceptance of what I need. He always accepts whatever I need, they all do.

  We make our way over to the not-so-secret FBI tail, their windows already down. “Come on Marks, you’re with me,” I say as I reach for the door handle.

  “Um, excuse me?” he asks.

  “You’re with me. You’re supposed to watch me, right? You know how many exit points are in this hospital? It would be a really shitty tail job if you lost me,” I tell him. “And Nash will stay with Agent Holt here, just so you know we’re not dipping out on you guys.”

  “I really don’t think that’s necessary,” agent Emma Holt says from her seat.

  “Yeah, are you planning to ditch us?” Talin asks as he gets out of the car and crosses his arms over his chest.

  “If you don’t come in I might, just to prove that I can,” I say, smiling at him.

  He rolls his eyes but reaches onto the dash, grabbing his sunglasses and gesturing for me to lead the way.

  “Call if you need anything, Darlin',” Nash calls out, the smallest bit of concern in his voice as we cross to the parking lot.

  “I might need Doctor Hottie to give me mouth to mouth. Should I call you if I do?” I yell across the parking lot and he shakes his head while rolling his eyes, but I know he thinks I’m funny. At least the lighthearted joking makes pretending I’m fine a little easier.

  “So why am I coming in with you?” Talin asks.

  “I told you already.”

  “No, the real reason, not the fake one you used to get me to come.” Turning, I smirk at him. He’s smart, I’ll give him that, and yet he’s still following me in here, so maybe not that smart. Or maybe just too curious for his own good.

  You know what they say about curiosity, right? If you’re not careful it won't be long before The Reaper’s digging a grave with your name on it. And I really hate digging.

  Stopping at the front desk, I sign in with the nurse working the check-in. We’re immediately led to a back room so my lacerations and burns can be examined, and stitches removed.

  Hopefully.

  They’re a real bitch.

  I watch as Piper, the nurse escorting us, gives Talin a major side-eye, and warily watches my face for answers I can’t give her. Piper’s Lucinda, our old housekeeper’s, daughter and a friend and no stranger to the ways of my life, or the signs of a cop. Growing up around us for most of her life, she’s the only female I can consider to be a friend. She even became a nurse specifically to be able to help us. We were both born into the mob world, but she decided to help people instead of killing them. Yet she doesn’t judge or fear me for my actions.

  “You need to see for yourself.”

  “See what? I already looked over your file like you asked me to do, I’ve seen the photos,” he says as he sits in the empty chair in the exam room and I hop up on the table.

  “The doctor will be in shortly,” Piper says, giving me one last cursory glance before leaving.

  “Photos aren’t even close to the same thing,” I say as my doctor knocks and walks in.

  “Morana, how are you doing?” he asks without looking up from my chart. That’s what I like about him, he pretends to give a shit, but he really doesn’t care about pleasantries. There’s no real small talk, and when I don’t answer him, he doesn’t get offended. We just move on.

  When he looks up from my chart and sees Talin in the chair instead of one of my guys he looks over at me. “Is there something I should know?” he asks as he side-eyes Talin in his suit that screams law enforcement.

  That’s the thing about living in Sanorah, you begin to be able to pick out the men in suits. Who’s law enforcement, who’s a Valdis hand, and who’s a boss. The suits tell a story.

  “Doc, this is my new friend, Talin.”

  “New friend, huh?”

  “Sure, we just met about a week ago. He arrested me and has been following me around ever
since, pretty sure that makes us besties,” I say and wink. Talin rolls his eyes.

  “You can ask him to leave, he doesn’t have a right to be in here if you don’t want him to be,” he says, but I shake my head.

  “No, I’m good. In fact, I think he needs to stand right here and get a really good look,” I say, pointing next to the table.

  “Fine. You heard her,” my doctor says and gestures for Talin to stand. “Let’s start with your upper body, okay?”

  I reach up and pull my t-shirt off my head and see it when Talin eyes more of my cuts and burns.

  “Lay back on the pillow. They look good so I’m going to start taking them out.” I do as I’m told without argument. I can feel as the stitches are cut and pulled out.

  “Why wasn’t this reported?” Talin asks the doctor, growing more and more angry with each stitch that’s removed. This is why I told him there’s a difference between reading and seeing.

  You can read a file all day long, even look at photographs, but at the end of the day, you’re still a step or two removed from the real trauma. Coming face-to-face with it in the flesh is a lot harder to ignore. I’m sure for someone that actually possesses empathy, seeing the scars and still-healing wounds of an encounter that was supposed to leave me dead are hard on him, which is why he’s here in the first place.

  Manipulation at its finest, ladies and gentlemen.

  My doctor stills and I can tell when he looks up, focusing on Talin with a glare. Talin wasn’t the only one unhappy with me not reporting this but doc here’s from Sanorah, and he knows that if I didn’t report it, it’s because I already took care of it. Just like I told Nash; Maverick’s already dead so what’s the point?

  All it would do is give the cops a reason to look around our apartment. To look around my cabin. To investigate our basement. We’re not going to think about everything they might find in any one of those places, let alone all of them.

  “Are you accusing me of something? 'Cause it sounds like you think I didn’t do my job. So, let me be very clear, my job was to save her life and that’s what I did. My job was to stop her from bleeding out. My job was to stitch up over forty lacerations. My job was to make sure the at-home cauterizing job that was done on her didn’t get infected, to make sure she didn’t get septic and die after living through everyone's worst nightmare. I did my job, and I did a damn good one. So maybe you should ask another law enforcement officer like yourself why there’s no investigation.”

  Oh shit, doc is pissed. I have to stifle a small laugh after he goes back to work on my torso.

  “Morana, why didn’t you report this?” Talin asks gently.

  I can’t exactly tell him the truth so instead I shrug, looking him in the eyes. “It wouldn’t have mattered anyways.”

  “Okay, Morana, lower half. You can put your shirt back on as well,” Doc says as he applies the last small bandage to my stitch-less torso. I sit up, grabbing my shirt, then shimmy out of my pants before laying back down.

  This is the hardest part. I clench my eyes shut and lace my hands together in a white-knuckle grip when the doctor moves to remove the stitches from my inner thighs. “Morana, do you want me to get one of the female nurses instead?” he asks gently.

  “No,” I grit out through clenched teeth. “Just get it over with.”

  I feel a strong hand wrap around mine, squeezing gently as the doctor works quickly to remove the stitches from my legs. When I peel my eyes open, Talin’s holding my hand with his back to the doctor, intent on not looking at my thighs.

  He looks down into my eyes and I’m shocked when I see pain flash across his features, and he gives me a sad smile. I let one hand go and lace my fingers with his, squeezing his hand as tight as I can as the doctor moves to the highest stitches.

  Maybe it was a mistake to bring him in here after all. I was intent to use this event to my advantage, to gain his sympathy. What I never expected was for him to comfort me, or for me to need comforting. At least with him here instead of my guys I can go back to pretending I’m fine when this is over, and they’ll continue to not know that I’m actually dying inside.

  When the doctor’s finally done it feels like hours have passed when really it’s just been a few minutes. I quickly pull up my pants as I’m given instructions on how to care for my newly stitch-less, mostly healed, lacerations and burns.

  The cuts and burns aren’t what really need to be healed, I’ve had worse over the years. What I really need healed is inside, and it's something the doctor can’t give me a pamphlet to deal with.

  Talin and I silently walk through the halls of the hospital, but before we can reach the front doors and my freedom, he gently grasps my arm. “You don’t have to go through this alone. There are people you can talk to,” he whispers. I shake out of his grasp.

  “I’m never alone. I have my guys, and now I have my new tail. I’m sure you’re going to be extra careful to make sure I’m never left alone.” I smile at him. “And who better to save me than the FBI? I guess the only question is who will you be saving me from?” I ask as I turn towards the doors and walk into the parking lot.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

  “Let me ask you something, Talin. If it came down to me or your boss, who would you save?” He cringes at the sound of his first name when it harshly rolls off my tongue with malice.

  Oh, Honey, do your homework; I certainly have.

  “Why would I have to choose?” he asks.

  “Because there are different levels of evil in this world, and no one’s as pure as they like to think they are. One day you might have to choose the lesser of two evils. I just hope you choose correctly,” I tell him as I turn and walk away towards my jeep.

  When I spot Nash, he has a stupid happy grin on his face, and my heart seizes in my chest. It’s one thing to manipulate an FBI agent, it’s another to actually like one, and Nash doesn’t have it in his heart to manipulate someone else. Not maliciously, not like I do, and if little Miss FBI thinks she’s going to manipulate my Nash, I’ll slit her throat.

  It’s important to remember that in this story, I’m still not the fucking good guy.

  Six Months Ago

  Unknown

  I was going to get out. I was going to make something of myself. Until the day everything changed, and I was ripped back here, given a job and forced into the Fallen Angels motorcycle club, into the family business. A place I never wanted to be, somewhere I worked my ass off to get away from.

  They wanted Valdis' business, to partner up, but the King of Sanorah wouldn’t accept them and they're pissed.

  When you think you’re bad enough to run in the same ranks as Valdis and you’re shooed away like a child interrupting daddy on a business call, it ends in a tantrum. But when MC Presidents throw tantrums they end in more bloodshed than a toddler’s.

  And now I've been tasked with figuring out a way to get the business they want, not to partner up but to take over. They no longer want to work with Aeron, they want to own him. Control him. They want Sanorah.

  And I’m just angry. Angry that I'm here. Angry that she's here. Angry that they get her. I’m just mad enough to come up with a plan to ruin her perfect little life.

  She has everything she ever wanted. The little Reaper Queen finally figured out her boys wanted her. Took her long enough. And they get to keep her. She never wanted me. She cast me aside like I wasn't good enough to stand in her shadow. Now that's over. I'm going to end her and take everything she’s worked towards.

  In the end, I'm going to ruin her.

  Chapter 4: Vx

  Morana

  “We need to get into dad’s office. If we find out who his last meeting was with that’s a good start,” I tell the guys as I pace back and forth in the living room.

  “Yeah, there’s just one problem with that: the house is a crime scene. It’s taped off. And you’re being tailed. So how do you suppose you get inside?” Hunter asks.

  “Nash.�
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  “Uh, what?”

  “You think you could get little Miss FBI to let us into the house, say I need to get some things for the funeral?”

  “You know her name, why do you insist on calling her ‘Little Miss FBI’?” he grumbles, and I snap my head to meet his gaze.

  “You’re right, Nash, I do know her name. Emma Rene Holt, born May twenty seventh, nineteen ninety-six in Los Angeles, California. She has four brothers and two sisters, and she’s right in the middle. Her parents worked multiple jobs her whole life to put food on the table and send their kids to college. She was plucked out of her graduating class and thrown into the FBI, a tech genius. This is the first team she’s been assigned to and she’s the only female agent on the task force,” I list off everything I know about the agent.

  “She had one long term boyfriend in college that ended when she found out he was also fucking her roommate. How am I doing so far?” I ask. He glares at me as Hunter and Ranger watch our exchange.

  “Must you do such an extensive background check on everyone that you meet, to know their fucking third grade teacher?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?!” he demands, standing from his seat on the couch.

  “You know why!” I yell throwing up my hands as my chest heaves rapidly. Why is everything falling apart?

  The last person I let walk into our lives almost ripped everything apart, and we’re still learning how to recover. I won’t make that mistake again. Not for anyone. I can’t risk it. I can’t risk the guys. Even if my obsessive behavior costs me them, I need to know that when they leave they’ll be safe.

  “Morana…” he starts gently but trails off, taking a step towards me.

  “No,” I say softly, turning to leave the room and walking towards the back hallway.

  “Morana, wait! Talk to me!” Nash calls down the hallway as I retreat. “Morana, don’t you dare shut me out!” he yells.

  “Dude, what the fuck is your problem?” Ranger growls.