Page 39 of Reaper & the Lioness (Lone Star Mavericks MC #1)

Chapter Thirty

We’d finished lunch when Eva’s phone buzzed in her back pocket.

Her smile faltered as she glanced at the screen.

I watched her face crumple as she answered.

She listened, agreeing with the person on the other line, and then thanked them before hanging up.

Her eyes filled with tears as she glanced at me, then at Hawk, sprawled across her feet.

“Hawk’s been adopted,” she choked out. “We have to take him to meet his new family today.”

My heart clenched at the pain in her voice. I’d planned this surprise for days, working with the shelter to make it official. But seeing her like this, I almost regretted not telling her sooner.

The drive to the shelter was quiet. Eva stared out the window, one hand stroking Hawk’s fur as if she could memorize the feel of him. Every so often, she’d sniff and swipe at her eyes, trying to hide it.

“This is always the hardest part of fostering. You love a dog like your own and then you say goodbye so they can be with the humans they’re meant to be with forever.”

I reached over and squeezed her knee, offering silent reassurance. I didn’t trust myself not to spill the secret if I spoke.

At the shelter, Eva climbed out and clipped Hawk’s leash with shaking hands. I watched as she led him to a grassy area, her shoulders hunched as she tried to hold back tears. Hawk, oblivious to the emotional turmoil, pranced beside her.

She led him to a patch of grass, crouching to rub his ears, whispering something into his fur I couldn’t quite hear. I stood back, giving her a moment, until a shelter worker approached me, a bright yellow folder in hand.

“Here you go,” the shelter worker said, pressing the folder into my palm. “Everything’s in order.”

I nodded my thanks and made my way over to Eva and Hawk.

“Sir?” the worker called, holding a cheerfully bright yellow bandanna. “I forgot we need to put this on him. Our adoption coordinator will be right out to take a family photo of the three of you.”

Eva turned, confusion etched across her face as the worker tied the “I’m Adopted” bandanna around Hawk’s neck. Her gaze darted between me and the shelter worker, brow furrowed.

“What’s going on?”

I smiled, holding up the folder. “Hawk’s officially ours. I adopted him—so he could stay with the humans he’s meant to be with forever.”

Eva’s eyes widened, fresh tears of joy spilling over. A brilliant smile lit her face. Then, she punched me hard in the chest, knocking me off balance.

“You sneaky bastard,” she laughed through her tears. “I can’t believe you did this.”

I wrapped my arms around her before she could punch me again, holding her tight as she pressed her tear-streaked face into my shoulder.

Hawk wriggled between us and thumped his tail wildly against our legs, determined to join the hug.

When he didn’t immediately get the attention he sought, he nipped at my ankle.

E va watched me as I loaded ammo into my extra magazines, her eyes following my practiced movements with growing concern. Once I’d holstered my Glock, slipping the spare ammunition into my pockets, I added a small Ruger pistol to my boot. When I pulled out the Kevlar vest, her brow furrowed.

“Where are you going that you need to wear that?” she asked, her voice tinged with anxiety.

I clenched my jaw, caught off guard by the question. How did other Mavericks handle this? The unfamiliar territory of having someone to answer to caused me to hesitate.

“Just some club business.”

Eva’s eyes narrowed. “Club business requires bulletproof body armor?”

I slipped on the vest. “It’s standard procedure when we’re heading out of our territory. It’s a meeting with the Rangers. Things have been … tense lately. The vest is just a precaution, nothing more.”

“Tense enough that you’re expecting gunfire?” she pressed.

I turned and cupped her face in my hands. “I promise, it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’ve been doing this for years.”

She leaned into my touch, but her expression told me she was unconvinced. “I understand there are things you can’t tell me, but … is this dangerous? Really dangerous?”

I hesitated. I felt torn between my instinct to protect her from worry and my growing desire to be honest. “There’s always an element of risk. But we’re prepared. I personally planned this operation.”

“Just … come back to me, okay? In one piece. No new holes, please.”

I kissed her, trying to convey everything I couldn’t say in words. “I always do, my Lioness. I’ll be home late. Don’t wait up.”

As I headed for the door, I could sense Eva’s eyes on me. The weight of her concern crept into an unfamiliar, almost uncomfortable territory. I’d never considered how my actions might affect someone else before.

I paused at the threshold and glanced back at her. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Be safe.”

As I closed the door behind me, I couldn’t shake I’d left too much unsaid. But the mission demanded my full focus. I couldn’t afford to be distracted.

W e arrived at the Rangers’ clubhouse outside of Austin an hour earlier than they expected.

Our intel proved accurate, and we breached the perimeter with ease. Each man moved with practiced stealth, and our boots barely sounded on the gravel as we approached.

A sense of déjà vu washed over me as we moved toward the clubhouse. It reminded me of leading high-stakes military operations in Fallujah—except there was more freedom and fewer rules of engagement. The familiar adrenaline rush coursed through my veins and sharpened my senses.

I nodded to Hatchet when we reached the main building. He ignited the charges where we’d planned, his hands steady and sure. The controlled explosion sent vibrations through the ground, creating the distraction we needed as we breached the door.

It splintered under our assault. Wood fragments flew through the air as we burst inside. Hickok and Poe stood frozen in shock at the unexpected assault.

“This ends now,” I growled with my gun trained on Hickok’s president patch.

“Your dealers stay out of Houston, and the attacks on the Mavericks stop. We’ll forgive your club for attempting to hijack a load of weapons, but only because your men already paid in blood for that mistake.

Tonight, I’m giving you three options: keep your drugs out of Houston, patch over, or die. ”

The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. Hickock’s eyes narrowed, and a sneer twisted his features.

“You think you can come in here and dictate terms? Fuck you, and fuck Houston. We’ll ride and deal wherever we damn well please.”

His hand blurred as he reached for his weapon. Time slowed, and I reacted on instinct as I squeezed the trigger. Two shots in rapid succession.

But Hickock moved faster than I anticipated. Another sharp crack split the air, and a searing pain exploded in my thigh. The bastard had gotten a shot off, too.

Hickock stumbled backward with his eyes wide open in shock as he realized I’d hit him square in the chest. He gasped in one last breath before his lifeless body slid down the wall, leaving a crimson smear in his wake.

Poe stood with his arms crossed. He raised brow at Merrick, Thane, and Hatchet, who all had their weapons trained on his chest.

“Jesus Christ,” Poe said, glancing between his fallen president and me. “Looks like I just got a promotion.”

“Congratu-fucking-lations,” I growled.

“Listen, I never wanted any of this. Hickok had it in his head that we needed to expand our territory. I never agreed. A patchover would be more fight than it’s worth, so you have my word. The Rangers will stay out of Houston. I’d like to call a truce.”

I ground my teeth as I breathed through the searing pain and kept my Glock steadily aimed at his chest. “See that you do. There won’t be options next time. Just consequences.”

Poe nodded once, keeping steady as we backed out of the room. He may have just agreed to peace, but I wouldn’t give him the opportunity to shoot me in the back.

As we stepped out of the clubhouse, the cool evening air did little to ease the burning in my thigh.

Merrick’s gaze flicked to my leg. “You good?”

I grunted and leaned against my bike for support. “It’s not bad. Through and through.”

Hatchet approached with a smirk as he took in the sight of the blood seeping through my jeans. “We should patch you up before we ride. I don’t need you splattering blood all over my bike. I have a date when we get back.”

“I’d hate to inconvenience you.”

Hatchet smirked at my sarcastic tone. I reached for the first aid kit I’d added to my saddlebag after my last gunshot wound on the road.

“I don’t think it’s considered a date if you don’t even know her name,” Merrick said.

I could see the flicker of amusement in Hatchet’s eyes.

“I have a text with her address and an open invitation to show up when we get back to town.”

I rolled my eyes. Hatchet’s voice was laced with a confident swagger only he could pull off.

“And I don’t need her name. She answers just fine to ‘sweetheart.’”

Hatchet’s attempt to distract me from the pain was welcome. A small part of me appreciated his effort to shift the focus away from my wounded leg and onto his latest conquest.

I pulled out my knife and used the sharp blade to slice through the denim of my jeans.

Blood oozed from the entry and exit points.

I grabbed a pressure bandage, pressing it against the injury.

I hissed through clenched teeth as I began wrapping gauze around the stinging wound on my thigh.

The pain burned intensely, but I’d had worse.

Thane watched with a grim expression. “You’re getting too much practice at this, brother.”

“Occupational hazard.”

“How’s Eva going to react?”

“Not real fucking happily, I’m sure.” I grimaced as I swung my leg over my bike. “She had a lot of questions before I left. How much do you tell Rhetta?”

“It’s a delicate balance, man. I give her enough information so she’s not blindsided, but not so much that she’s constantly worried. Rhetta knows the risks, but I spare her the gory details.”

“And when shit like this happens?”

“I’m honest, but I downplay it. She doesn’t need to know every close call. It’s about protecting her, you know? Both from the danger and the constant fear.”

I grunted as I mulled over Thane’s approach. Walking this precarious line would prove challenging, especially with someone as sharp and inquisitive as Eva.

Thane clapped me on the shoulder. “You’ll find the right balance. It’s okay to keep some things to yourself. It’s not lying. It’s shielding her from the worst parts of our world.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Fuck. She is not going to agree with that philosophy.”

“We both know she’s tougher than she looks. She’ll be able to handle whatever you tell her.”

I sent a quick text to Doc and dry-swallowed a few Tylenol.

He’d stitch me up when we got back to the clubhouse.

I started the engine, wincing as the vibrations set off a ripple of pain.

I dreaded the conversation to come, especially since I’d promised Eva that the Kevlar vest was only a precaution.

As we rode away from the Rangers’ clubhouse, the rumble of our bikes cutting through the night, a mixture of satisfaction and concern swirled within me.

While we had neutralized the immediate threat, I considered how short-lived the peace between our clubs could be.

But for now, we had secured our territory.

Houston belonged to the Mavericks, bought and paid for in blood—theirs and mine.