Page 7 of Reaper & the Lioness (Lone Star Mavericks MC #1)
“Listen, I have to fly to Houston soon for a few interviews. I’m digging into some tips about corruption at one of the big oil companies. I’ll be in town for a few days. We could meet for lunch.” His excitement was palpable.
I double-clicked on my desktop calendar. “Sure, I’m flexible almost every day next week. I think we have enough that we can map out the story.”
“I like the way you think. We’re getting close. I can feel it.”
My adrenaline surged at the thought of finally bringing Hale’s crimes to light. Matt’s story in the Washington Post would expose the pattern of violence and abuse I knew all too well.
“I wanted to let you know I’ve turned up a new source.
We have a call scheduled soon, but …” I hesitated, knowing Matt would be irritated at this next revelation.
“She only wants to talk to me. And only on background. We won’t be able to use her in the story, but I think she could shed light into the patterns we’ve uncovered. ”
Matt paused on the other end of the line. When he spoke again, his voice had lost some of its zeal. “Who is she?”
“I can’t tell you. She insisted on complete anonymity. She’s terrified of what might happen if word gets out that she’s talking.”
“Come on,” Matt said, frustration creeping into his tone. “You know my editor won’t let us use her if we can’t identify her.”
I rubbed my temples, a headache brewing.
“I know, I know. But let’s see what details she shares first. She worked for Abell Enterprises for a long time.
Longer than most. She’s probably seen a lot of women come and go.
Maybe we can find a way to corroborate her information without revealing her identity. ”
Matt’s sigh crackled through the phone. “Fine. Just don’t make any promises.”
“If she has good information, I’ll see if I can convince her to go on the record,” I promised. “Maybe we could use a pseudonym in the story.”
Matt groaned. “We’ll need to validate the facts before we publish. Hale’s lawyers are going to be on our asses when this gets out. Everything has to be by the book. I can’t let your little side project end my career.”
I ground my teeth at his comment. “I’ll update you later, okay?” My response came out tighter than I intended as I ended the call.
Heat prickled at the back of my neck. When he’d offered to partner with me on the story, Matt thought it could elevate his career. Now, he acted like it was a favor.
I hooked the leash onto Hawk’s collar. I needed a walk as much as he did. My phone rang as we stepped out the door, and I tensed—until I read the name on the caller ID. I fumbled to answer the FaceTime call while juggling my keys.
“Do you miss me yet?” Kenna asked immediately as I answered.
I laughed, feeling the tension releasing from my shoulders as the familiar face of my best friend filled the screen. “I do. I’m sorry I haven’t called. Between my new client and the story with Matt, I’ve barely had time to sleep.”
“You need to make time for a personal life,” Kenna chided, tossing her auburn hair over her shoulders.
I laughed, squinting at my screen in the bright Texas sun. “You’re one to talk.”
“Valid point. It’s not the same here without you,” she said, her voice softening. “Are you moving back?”
“Nope. Maybe you should move here,” I joked. “The weather is better, and so are the tacos. Plus, you need to come meet my foster pup before he gets adopted.” I pivoted my phone down to show Hawk trotting alongside me with his nose to the ground.
“Cute!” she squealed. “But you had me at tacos. Tell me about this new client.”
I hesitated. “They aren’t exactly mainstream corporate.”
Kenna perked up. “Wait, is this another weird software start-up? I can’t work with another techbro CEO.”
I laughed, remembering the horror stories of one of her former clients who considered himself a cooler version of Mark Zuckerberg. “I’m working with the Lone Star Mavericks. Reputation repair and crisis management, mostly.”
Kenna set down her phone, and I watched the ceiling for a moment as I listened to her tap a keyboard. She gasped before picking it back up to look at me.
“Eva. You can’t be working with a biker gang. These guys are dangerous.”
“Not all the headlines are true,” I said defensively. “I have a story running today about a Maverick that mentors high school boys.”
A few more clicks and Kenna hummed. “I see that. Jack Patino. He’s cute. Is he single? You should go out with him.”
I laughed. “I can’t date a client.”
“Sure you can,” Kenna said nonchalantly. “You own the company. That means you make the HR rules and you can do whatever you want. It’s been a while since you’ve let your hair down. And these guys certainly look like they know how to have some fun.”
I rolled my eyes. “Jesus, you sound just like Rhetta.”
Kenna cackled. “Has she handpicked a biker for you?”
I groaned as Kenna continued to prod.
“Please tell me he has tattoos. And that he’s packing more than a gun.” Kenna waggled her brows suggestively.
I hesitated a second too long.
“Oh my God. Are you blushing? Who is it? Tell me everything.”
I tried to sound casual. “It’s not like that.”
“Uh-huh,” Kenna drawled, not buying it for a second.
“I’m looking at a group photo of the club I found on a news site.
So, which one is he? Is it the brooding one with the murdery eyes?
Or the one with the scar on his cheek? The blond one is too pretty for you.
He’s more my type. Maybe I should move to Texas … ”
I nearly tripped over Hawk as I laughed. “Kenna!”
She giggled with delight. “So, what’s his name?”
I sighed. “Reaper.”
Kenna stayed quiet for a beat. “You’re making that up.”
“I wish I was. That’s his road name. I don’t know his real one.”
Kenna whistled. “Reaper. Jesus. That’s not intimidating at all. Is he hot?”
I hesitated again, which was answer enough.
“Oh, he’s hot. You have to at least send me a picture. For HR purposes.”
I shook my head. “You’re impossible. Nothing can happen. He’s the VP of the club. My HR director says he’s off limits.”
“You should fire that bitch.”
I chuckled as I shook my head. “This is the biggest contract I’ve landed so far. I can’t risk it.”
“Bummer. Promise me you’ll call if you need me to move to Texas to be your backup. Or if you need bail money.”
“Deal. But if you join my company, you can’t veto my HR decisions.”
“Rude. Love you.”
“Love you too, Kenna.”
I hung up. The pressure in my chest eased, replaced by the familiar warmth of my best friend’s teasing echoing in my mind. Ever since college, we’d dreamed about starting a consultancy together during late-night study sessions fueled by cheap wine, cold pizza, and wild ambition.
Kenna had considered moving to Texas to start this consultancy with me.
I understood why she’d stayed behind, though.
She was still piecing herself together. She tried to hide it, but I noticed the weight in her eyes.
Kenna needed space to breathe, to figure out who she was when grief wasn’t the loudest part of her story.
I missed her. Not just her wit and friendship, but the way she always saw straight through me. She was the one person who would call me on my bullshit—my doubts, my fears, and my stupid crush on a biker.
It had always been the two of us against the world. But lately, we’d been living parallel lives—close enough to see each other’s struggles, but too far apart to help in the ways that mattered.
Still, every time we spoke, the spark in her eyes flared brighter.
Like the Japanese art of kintsugi, where broken cracks are filled with gold to create something stronger and more beautiful, maybe moving to Texas and building a business together could be the gold she needed to fill the cracks in her heart.
Hawk tugged at the leash, pulling me back to the present. I glanced down at him, his tail wagging as he sniffed a fire hydrant. I smiled, a little wistful. Selfishly, I hoped she’d consider moving so we could finally make our dream a reality—together.