Page 8 of Reaping Havoc (Royal Bastards MC Tonopah, NV #21)

“ W e’ve been at this for hours,” I spat at the motherfucker who we had hanging by chains in the dungeon. “Break.”

Saliva mixed with blood freely trickled from his parted lips as his glassy eyes struggled to remain focused and coherent.

“This can always get fucking worse. I guarantee it.”

“Let me take a crack at him,” Exorcist offered.

I wasn’t getting anywhere. Why not?

Gesturing to our prisoner, I stepped back.

Exorcist grinned. He was the only member besides Grim and Hannibal that truly terrified the rest of us when he let his Reaper take full control.

Exorcist, or Ex as we called him most of the time, was skilled at torturing our prey while the soul was still attached to the body.

Meaning he could yank the soul to the surface, torture it, separate it from the living flesh, and keep the person alive while doing it.

Unheard of, spooky shit.

I loved it.

All the Reapers did. It was fucking badass.

Ex began to focus on Doyle, our prey, as he let loose a bloodcurdling scream.

His soul was literally ripped free and hovered next to his body, oily, black, and rank.

This process would usually kill instantly, but not with Ex.

He ensured the torture was so fucking painful that Doyle remained alive to feel it.

Doyle began bargaining for his life, begging us to listen, and that he’d tell us everything we wanted to know.

“I know you will, you stupid fuck. Start talking. Now.”

It didn’t take long to make the connection to the Russians or the one we expected. The trafficker who had a vendetta against me and Chrome because we fucked up his plans.

Gorbachev.

“I want to know where to find him. How do I contact him? Where is he?” I fired off my questions so fast it wasn’t possible for Doyle to answer them all, but he tried. His garbled words and haste only annoyed me. “Slow the fuck down. I want everything you can tell me about the Russian.”

“He’s in Nevada this weekend. A new shipment is arriving.”

“Go on,” I urged.

“He’s planning on going to Vegas. There’s a new club he’s funding, but it’s a cover for finding girls.”

Disgusting.

“You hearing this, Pres?”

“Yeah,” he growled.

“We need to be there.”

“We’ll discuss this in church.”

I nodded. He wasn’t going to say more until all the members were inside to hear it. Fine by me. I had a soul to fucking reap.

Doyle spilled his guts. Figuratively, not physical. It would have been fun to watch, but I had other plans, which included getting home to Nylah and filling my brother in on this shit.

Grim turned to Doyle. “Why did you come to his home and intimidate his woman?”

“They have my daughter,” he blubbered. “She’s eight.”

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

My chest ached at the thought of grown men abusing a little girl. My Reaper roared in my head, and I couldn’t stop him from surfacing as I shoved my face a few inches from his. “You better be telling the fucking truth.”

“I am. I swear it,” he cried, shaking as he stared at the visage of the Reaper. “I’m just trying to get her out of there.”

“What’s her name?”

“Rylee.” Snot dripped from his nose as he sniffled. “Rylee Turner.”

Hannibal shoved me to the side. “Tell me who her mother is.”

“Rachel.”

I sensed a surge of emotion from Hannibal and didn’t have a clue what the fuck was upsetting him.

“Where is Rachel?”

Doyle hung his head. “I don’t know.”

Hannibal snarled, snatching Doyle’s hair and yanking his head up. “What do you mean? Why the fuck don’t you know?”

“She disappeared a week after Rylee.”

Hannibal tilted his head back and roared.

Stunned, I watched as he reached for his scythe and sliced through Doyle’s soul, ripping it from his body in one of the most brutal reapings I had ever witnessed.

The dungeon filled with Doyle’s cries and shouts of agony, but no one interfered as Hannibal rose off the ground, his dark robes covering his body as the ground shook beneath our feet. Hell was opening up for us, and we were about to give Lucifer a soul to devour.

“You failed to protect my daughter and granddaughter. For your negligence, I’m sending you to Lucifer. Enjoy Hell, motherfucker!”

Since I didn’t want to miss out on vengeance for Doyle terrorizing Nylah, I joined in.

The two of us reaped his soul, enjoying the terror that spilled from Doyle’s throat before he was sucked into hellfire, and disappeared below us.

His flesh burst into flames and then fell to the ground in ash, only to wither away into nothing.

A fitting end for a monster.

And some called us vicious. We’d never harm children.

“Hannibal,” Grim called as he watched our brother stomp up the stairs.

“Not now, Grim. I fucking need a minute.”

It was ballsy not to call Grim his title. He earned the right and respect as president, but Hannibal was hurting, and Grim understood. Wisely, he let it go.

Tomorrow in church, Hannibal would make it right.

MY PHONE RANG AS I left the clubhouse, throwing a leg over my bike before sinking onto the seat. It was much later than I intended. Nylah would be asleep when I finally crawled into bed, but she wouldn’t mind me waking her up with my head between her thighs.

Hell, we both loved it.

My cut vibrated as I felt an incoming call on my cell. I never looked at the screen, assuming it was one of my club brothers. If something happened, I wanted to know right away. Maybe Nylah wasn’t feeling well, or the twins had a nightmare. Any of those were reasons to answer on the first ring.

“Hello, Ian.”

Ian. My real name. Not my road name.

Fuck.

“Who is this?”

The unfamiliar voice didn’t answer but asked another question instead. “Do you know that Nylah wears the cutest pink pajamas in bed?”

What. The. Fuck.

“You just made a deadly mistake, motherfucker,” I growled, my tone far too calm.

That was the Berserker. He skipped right past the Reaper with Nylah’s safety in question. No longer dormant since Doyle showed up at my house, he was ready to confront this threat.

“No. I think you did, Ian Azrael Braxton. She’s not safe.”

I roared into the phone, threatening to find and end this asshole before he could ever touch her.

“We’ll have our pound of flesh, Ian. If not from Nylah, it’ll be your daughter.”

For the first time since bonding to my Reaper, I felt genuine terror as it gripped me to the point that I could barely breathe.

“Keep them close.” Dark laughter followed. “If you can.”

He ended the call, and I nearly lost my shit. I had to fight through the need to punch something. Every muscle in my body tensed. It took a minute before I could regain control and wrestle to stand, pacing the parking lot outside The Crossroads.

Nylah was home. Safe. Four of my club brothers were there. My blood brother watched over her. No one could get to her.

Those thoughts finally managed to keep me from freaking out and doing something crazy.

Oh, I wanted to unleash the Berserker and let him run wild.

But I had to wait. I wanted him to be the one to end Gorbachev.

For my family, me, my brother, and the bullshit we had to endure since our father’s death.

I had to double-check, though. That call rattled me.

Admitting that felt like failure.

Chrome answered on the second ring. “Everything good?”

I didn’t answer. “Where’s Nylah?”

“In bed, I believe. She was tired.”

“Do me a favor, Noah. Go check on her. Now.”

“Sure, Ian.” I heard him rushing through the house and the click of a door before it opened. “I’m trying not to wake her. She’s asleep.”

“Check the room. The whole fucking house. Everyone is on alert.”

“Wanna tell me what this is about?”

“A phone call threatening to take her from me.”

“Fuck.”

“I’m on my way. Starting up my bike now.”

“I’ll stay outside the door until you arrive.”

I didn’t have to ask. My brother knew exactly what I needed.

“Thanks. Noah?”

“Yeah?”

“Love you.”

He choked up before replying. “Love you too.”

Damn. My life had come a long fucking way for me to say words like those out loud, unafraid to speak them, and happy I could. Just because I walked with the devil, it didn’t mean that I didn’t have a heart or feel emotion. I would argue that the Tonopah GBMC members felt more than most men.

I stayed vigilant as I left the lot and rode home. My Reaper stayed close to the surface, so nothing caught us unaware. If I needed him, he could protect me almost instantly from any threat. His presence stayed close, along with my Berserker, even as I parked my bike on my driveway.

Shadow waved as I entered my house. True to his word, Chrome leaned against the wall outside my bedroom, facing my direction as I approached.

“She’s good. Not heard a word.”

I brought him in for a hug, squeezing tight. “I owe you.”

“Naw. We got each other’s backs. It’s even.”

Yeah, he was right.

“Stay with Cameron. Keep her close.”

“I will. Not leaving her side until this shit is sorted.”

I nodded. Good.

“You find out what we need?”

“Yeah. Grim will fill everyone in tomorrow.”

We’d hold church, but it would have to be in two places. Maybe all of us would join in on a video call. I wasn’t leaving Nylah, and I needed my brother and fellow Reapers here to protect my family. Grim would want the rest of the members and their families to be safe at The Crossroads.

For now, I didn’t worry about it. All I needed was my Nylah. My sexy nurse. Wild hellcat. Mother of my babies.

She was my fucking oxygen. I needed her to breathe.

The only way I would rest tonight is if I had her in my arms.