Page 34 of Wild Night (Vicious Reapers MC #2)

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

IVY

Though this is a day that seems to never end, I wait for Monty to answer. I honestly don’t expect him to, since my number is clearly not programmed in his phone, but on the third ring, I hear him announce himself as his greeting

“Monty.”

“Hello, this is Justin Whitaker,” I begin.

“Know who you are,” he states, taking me by surprise.

The phone is on speaker, and my gaze flies up to meet Bullet’s, who only shrugs. “You do?” I ask.

He chuckles, but I can’t tell if he really finds this humorous or annoying. I decide I don’t need to ask any questions. Instead, I wait for him to continue. He’s going to tell me only what he wants me to know anyway.

“You’re Posey’s new man. But what I don’t know is why you’re calling me .”

Posey’s man. Fuck yes, I am.

Clearing my throat, I begin the conversation by thanking him, because he does deserve my gratitude. “I appreciate everything you did for Posey and protecting her the way you did.”

He is silent for a moment before he speaks, just a quiet beat, as if he’s putting together his thoughts. When he finally speaks, I can tell he’s not only choosing his words carefully, but they’re also thoughtful.

“No need to thank me. She was a loyal employee for years. What happened to her was as much my fault as it was Lucian’s. I am just happy that she has found the path she desires.”

Pressing my lips together, I roll them a few times as I close my eyes slowly, then open them. “I am happy that I’m what she desires, that she came home.”

It’s his turn to clear his throat. “You did not just call me to thank me,” he states.

I laugh. “You’re right,” I say. “I didn’t.”

“Get on with it,” he urges me to continue.

He’s probably got a million different irons in the fire and is ready for me to get on with the reason I called. It might be after work hours for me, but that doesn’t mean it is for him. Sliding my tongue along my bottom lip, I wet my flesh before I continue.

“Where is Lucian?”

I’m met with silence, then I hear some noises in the background. Some shuffling, and then there is silence before I hear a heavy sigh. “Are you asking me because you wish to speak to him?”

“I’d like to do more than that. However, that’s not what this is about. Someone broke into my office, threatened me with a note, and I need to know if it was him.”

“I can confirm that Lucian Whitmore is no longer an issue for our Posey. It definitely wasn’t him.”

That makes me feel a hell of a lot better. I open my mouth to tell him that, but he continues speaking. “My relationship with your group here in California is solid. I can trust that the friendship is mutual across the country?”

Flicking my gaze to Bullet, I don’t confirm until he gives me a nod.

And when he does, I tell Monty that the friendship is indeed mutual.

I don’t know what the fuck I’ve just agreed to, but what I do know is that this man has helped me in ways that I could never repay.

So, whatever he wants, I’ll give it to him.

“Good,” Monty states, then ends the call.

Bullet scrubs his hand over his face. “Well, now that that’s dealt with and we’ve probably made a deal with the goddamn devil, we know it’s not Lucian, so who the fuck is it?”

I open my mouth, though I’m not sure what I’m going to say.

I don’t get the chance, though. A waft of hot air and pressure causes my body to fly backward, and then there is a noise, so fucking loud that it’s the only thing I hear.

The next moment, I hear nothing before everything around me goes dark.

POSEY

I watch as Dakota drops her phone onto the table with a thud. I tilt my head to the side and snap my brows together. Briana doesn’t notice. She’s rocking Nathan, who has just woken up from a very short nap. Reaching across the table, I notice that whoever called her is still on the phone.

“Hello?” I ask, placing the device to my ear.

“This is John from Justin’s law firm. I didn’t know who else to call,” he begins.

Instead of letting him continue, I feel the need to announce myself. I only met John once, but he did drive me to the bus station. “This is Posey,” I state, so he knows who I am. I’m not sure why, but this seems very important in the moment.

“It’s the law office. The police just called me. It’s on fire. Where is Justin?”

My heart begins to race rapidly inside my chest. In fact, I think it might actually burst out of my body, it’s beating so hard. My rib cage actually hurts from the motion, and I don’t know if I’m even breathing.

“He’s at the office,” I finally exhale right before spots appear in my vision.

I don’t scream. I don’t cry. I sit there at the table, staring straight ahead at nothingness, as John asks me questions. I have no clue what he’s saying. I can hear his voice, but I can’t make out his actual words before the phone is taken from my hand.

Slowly, I turn my head, tipping it backward to look up at whoever took the stupid thing from my hand. I should thank them, because I wasn’t getting anything out of holding it to my ear anyway.

It’s Shocker.

He stands above me, the phone to his ear, and I hear his gruff voice, but again, I can’t make out actual words. Then I watch as his spine straightens. He says something, his voice coming out in hard clips before he ends the call and shoves the phone in the inner pocket of his cut.

His gaze slices over to me, and he jerks his chin. “Gather yourself, Posey, and get in Dakota’s car.”

I nod once, surprised that I actually understood his words.

Maybe it was the rough and serious tone that cut through and made my brain focus on him.

I watch as he turns toward Dakota and says the same.

Her spine straightens, and almost as if she’s in zombie mode, she stands and turns toward the door, walking away.

“What about Nathan?” I ask.

Shocker gives me a small smile, then a wink. “Briana will take him. You girls get in the car. I’m driving.”

Standing, I follow Dakota. I don’t know how my feet move, but they do.

One foot in front of the other until I reach for the door handle of the back seat and tug it open.

Climbing inside, I look over to the empty car seat, and I don’t know if it’s hormones or fear, maybe a bit of both, but I burst into tears.

Then Dakota turns around, looking over the front seat at me, her eyes searching mine, and I watch as tears silently stream down her face. “Don’t cry, because I’ll cry,” she whispers.

“You’re crying,” I point out through my blubbering.

“Stop,” she whispers.

And then we both sniffle and cry simultaneously. I don’t know what to do. I feel like my hands are tied. Something happened, it’s terrible, and I don’t know what the outcome is, and I’m scared—terrified, even.

Shocker practically jumps into the front seat, immediately starts the engine, and then I hear the sound of motorcycles being revved.

I don’t ask any questions, though. Instead, I watch as Dakota whips around to face the front, then Shocker shifts the car into Reverse and swings us around so that we’re facing toward the exit, and away we go.

I would probably be scared shitless by the driving itself if I weren’t already scared shitless by what we’re driving toward. Closing my eyes, I try not to let the way the car flings us around make me feel nauseous.

Then, as seemingly quickly as it started, the car comes to a screeching halt. I don’t want to open my eyes, I don’t want to see the sight in front of me, but I also know that I don’t have a choice.

When I do open my eyes, I gasp at the sight in front of me. The building is only half-standing. The motorcycles in front of the building are also no longer standing. They’re burned to a fucking crisp, melted and messy as they continue to burn.

There are firefighters everywhere. Jumping out of the back seat, I run up to the first man in uniform I can find. I reach for his jacket and grip it as tightly as I can, then pull him close to me, his helmet moving side to side as I do.

“Where are they?” I cry.

His eyes widen. He’s no doubt scared shitless. I know if the tables were reversed, I would feel the same way. Scared fucking shitless. Thankfully, he takes pity on me and grips my shoulders, slowly spinning me away from him to face the ambulance that is parked a few feet away.

Dakota is standing at the back of the ambulance. I run toward her and stop when I’m a few inches away. Bullet is sitting on the edge, his legs dangling and swinging back and forth. Shifting my gaze from him, I look around the area for Justin.

I don’t see him.

There are Viking and Razor, but no Justin. My feet move toward Viking. He’s the one I know the best here, aside from Shocker.

When I stop in front of him, I tilt my head back to look up into his eyes. He’s got a bandage on his head, but when his eyes find mine, he gives me a smirk and a jerk of his chin.

“Where is he?” I demand.

Thankfully, he doesn’t hesitate before he answers me. “The ambulance took him away.”

His words cause my heart to sink. Then my stomach flips. I place my hand against my belly and try not to throw up everywhere. Pinching my eyes closed, I spin around on my heels, lifting my hand to my forehead, and try to breathe.

I feel Viking’s hand on the center of my back. He rubs me there before his soothing voice murmurs to me.

“They said he’s going to be okay, that everything is going to be okay.”

His words should feel comforting to me, but they don’t.

Nothing will be comforting to me until I can see his eyes.

I need to hear his voice, see his face. I need to know that he’s okay.

That everything will be okay. Not just because someone says it, but because it’s true and I’ve seen it with my own eyes.