Page 81 of Reaper and Ruin

The man looked me up and down. “Got any clothes suitable for a gay bar?”

25

LEVI

Istared at myself in the mirror of the changing room and didn’t recognize the person staring back at me. “No. Absolutely not. Zero percent.”

X ripped open the curtain and hooted. “The cutoff denim shorts are really doing it for me. And hey!” He poked me in the stomach. “You can see your abs in that shirt.”

Shirt was being generous. It was so short it barely covered my nipples.

X had found himself a pleated tartan skirt that he was happily prancing around the store in. “Omelet! Do you like this one?” He shook his ass. “Oooh, feel the breeze! I should wear skirts every day, this is delightful!”

He spotted a pair of black thigh-high boots with the chunkiest heel I’d ever seen and bent to pick them up.

I winced at the flash of ass from beneath the skirt. “Underwear, X. While we’re here, buy some damn underwear.”

“Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it. Your balls might like the breeze too.”

“My balls are just fine in jeans, thanks.” I tugged at the frayed hem of the ridiculous shorts. “And not the cutoff kind.”

Whip came out of another changing room, leather pants clinging to his ass and thighs, a black mesh top covering his chest. I supposed I should be grateful X hadn’t shoved that shirt in my direction or my nipples actually would be out for everyone to see.

I snorted on a laugh. “You look ridiculous.”

“Like you can talk. Nice belly button.”

Asshole.

Violet surveyed all three of us with barely concealed laughter. “As great as you all look, I think a nice pair of pants and a button-down shirt might also be acceptable? Not sure we actually have to lean this hard into a stereotype.”

X pouted. “But my ass likes the breeze, Violet! Lemme wear the skirt.”

“You can wear whatever makes you happy.”

“And tell me you’ll feel me up underneath it.”

She shot a look at the salesclerk who went pink and turned away, trying to cover her laughter. Violet stepped in, pressed up on her toes, and brushed her lips across X’s. “If you wear that, I will definitely be taking advantage in a dark corner.”

X leaned around her and slammed his credit card down on the clerk’s desk. “Sold!”

“I’m finding somewhere to buy a button-down,” Whip said. “One that doesn’t show off my areolas.”

“Fucking hell, why can’t Nyah’s brother own a restaurant or a laundromat or something? Why a gay bar?” I hated the idea of wearing anything other than the oil-stained jeans and club jacket I pretty much permanently lived in.

Whip shot a tired glance at me. “Why are you resisting this so hard? Wear your jeans. No one is going to care. Or is it more the fact we’re going to a gay bar that you have such an issue with?”

“I have no issue with that.”

Whip just gave me a look like he was sure that wasn’t true.

Oh, fuck him.

I’d spent more than half my life in a biker gang in Saint View. There wasn’t exactly a high number of gay bars for me to wander into for an after-work drink. Army, our old prez before War, would have beat the shit out of me if I’d so much as even thought about walking into a place like the one we were going to tonight.

If I was being honest, I was fucking nervous about it. Not just because I was praying we would be able to speak to Nyah’s brother, and he might have some information on his sister’s whereabouts. I could see the tension radiating through Violet, the stress of not knowing, the constant fear that Nyah’s parents had nothing to do with this and Nyah was yet another victim of the killer who taunted us.

I didn’t even want to think about that.