Page 27

Reaper

Hidden in the darkness, I watched her enter the clubhouse. I didn’t want to be here anymore than she did, but like me, we couldn’t say no to the woman we loved. My woman endured more pain, more anguish, more soul crushing torment than either of us could imagine.

There was nothing we wouldn’t do for her.

After Oklahoma, I followed her to Vegas, killing every Satan’s Angel along the way. The more I killed, the more my demon craved, until I was barely hanging on by a thread. As for Sandman, he gave up the ghost and fully embraced his demon. I feared without Sunny, there would be nothing left of him. I didn’t know how much more he could take before he snapped and went off the reservation completely.

My fears were confirmed when shortly after my wife left with Vladmir, several more Satan’s Angels attacked the Nyght Nymphs compound.

Sandman lost it, knowing that Sunny was inside.

The only thing that stopped him from burning the damn clubhouse down was when we both saw Wraith, the President of the Wraith Warriors, carry Sunny out the back to safety. Seeing his Sunny, stopped him dead in his tracks and almost cost him his life when a Satan’s Angel damn near took his head off.

After that, I knew he was done.

I couldn’t rely on him anymore. The man had enough and the only way to save him was to get him back to his Sunshine.

The problem was getting him to agree.

Like me, he was deep in his mind, lost, swimming in a sea of blood and bodies with no way out. It was a vicious cycle, but not unbreakable.

Looking to my left, I watched while Sandman sat on the ground, rocking himself back and forth, muttering incoherently to himself.

He was getting worse by the second.

“Hang on, brother. I’ll get you home. I promise.”

“No home.”

“I’m taking you home.”

“No.”

“Yes,” I growled. “And that’s a fucking order.”

Growling, Sandman ducked his head against his arms, behaving like a small child who had just been chastised. With any other man, I would tell the mute fucker to grow some goddamned balls, but Sandman wasn’t like anyone else. He was something totally different and unique, and the faster I got him home to Sunny, the faster she could fix him.

A noise caught my attention, and I turned and watched Layla walk out the front doors of the Soulless Sinners’ clubhouse. She smiled into the darkness that surrounded her.

The look on her face said it all.

She had done it.

She had killed George Stone.

What she didn’t see was the Soulless Sinner who lurked in the shadows behind her.

“Reaper.”

“I see him,” I sneered. I didn’t think when I reached for my blade, throwing it as I yelled, “Drop!”

Doing so immediately, I watched my blade glide past Layla’s face and easily slide into the Soulless Sinner.

I didn’t know who he was.

I didn’t care.

Repercussions be damned.

I would think about that shit tomorrow.

Right now, I needed to get Sandman home.

Walking toward the dead man, I saw the gun in his hands as blood bubbled out of his mouth.

It wouldn’t be long now.

Gripping the hilt of my sword, I yanked hard, removing my blade as his now lifeless body fell to the ground.

Turning toward Layla, I said nothing as I walked back into the darkness to find Sandman shaking his head.

“No more. No more. No more.”

“Alright, brother. No more,” I murmured, sheathing my blade before reaching down to help him to his feet. With my arm around him, I called the only person I knew who could get us the fuck out of this state and home fast as we stumbled toward the nearest busy street.

“Yeah.”

“Need a flight. Tonight.”

“Reaper?”

“Yeah, it’s me, Sypher. Get me and Sandman the fuck out of here fast,” I ordered, flagging down a cab.

“How fast can you get to JFK?”

“On our way now.” I grunted, shoving Sandman in the back seat before climbing in after him.

“Head to hangar twelve at JFK. There will be a plane waiting for you.”

“Head to JFK,” I firmly said looking at the cabbie before asking, “My wife?”

“Um, well... she did exactly as you thought she would. She wasn’t happy about it, but she’s dealing with it.”

“Does she know I told you to tell her everything?”

“No.”

“Good. Keep it that way. She needs to come home on her own.”

“She’s still pretty mad, Reaper.”

I smirked. “What happened to Mr. Reaper?”

“A lot has happened since you fell off the radar, Prez, and I fucking grew up.”

“I guess we both did,” I whispered, disconnecting the call.