Page 42 of Wild Night (Vicious Reapers MC #2)

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

IVY

I walk out of the office but stop in the hallway, closing my eyes as I listen to Bullet kill that piece of shit. There is no screaming, just a gurgling noise, which I know is the end of his life. I should not smile, but I do. My lips curve up into a grin at the sound of Barry Scott’s life ending.

When it’s done, Bullet opens the door and steps out. I’m leaning against the wall, my body too fucking tired to hold itself up. Turning my head, I look over at him. His eyes meet mine, and he jerks his chin before he speaks.

“It’s done,” he murmurs.

“But is it?” I ask.

He gives me a grin. “As far as we know. We’ll go out to his apartment, take a look around, but I think it’s done.”

I’m not sure if it is. I want it to be, because it should have never happened in the first place, but the fact that Hazzard was involved at all threw me for such a loop that I’m not sure what the fuck really happened.

The deal I got for Barry Scott was the best-case scenario. He shouldn’t have been this fucking pissed off about the whole thing.

“So what happens now?” I ask.

Bullet shifts his eyes down to his feet, then slowly brings his attention back up. His gaze searches mine for a long moment. I’m not sure what he’s thinking, but since he’s my president, I wait out of respect. He may be one of my oldest friends, but he will always deserve my respect.

“Now we figure out the rest of the story. Because fuck this asshole. And as much as it pains me to say, fuck that bitch. I didn’t know she showed up at your place.”

I run my fingers through my hair, tugging on the ends. I need to go to my room, to my woman. I need to celebrate our baby, our relationship, and our new life. I don’t feel like we’ve had a single minute to ourselves. I’m not even fucking sure if we’ve had a whole day without something happening.

“Let’s get to his place before something happens,” Bullet announces, pushing off the wall.

As much as I want to tell him to kick rocks, I follow behind him, heading straight for his pickup truck. Climbing into the front seat, I let out a groan as he starts the engine. I’m not sure I want to do all of this, but at the same time, I know it needs to be done.

Bullet turns toward me as he shifts the car into Reverse , but he doesn’t back up yet. Instead, his eyes search mine for a moment before he speaks.

“You good?” he asks.

I don’t know what the fuck I am. But good would not be the word I would use to describe myself right now, or ever, really. Pressing my lips together, I let out a sigh.

“I’m good enough,” I state.

“That asshole and his sister tried to kill you.”

Shaking my head, I turn toward my brother. My brother. My eyes connect to his. Neither of us speaks immediately. “They did,” I agree. “But they didn’t succeed.”

“They didn’t,” he agrees with my words.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I think about that, about his words. They may not have succeeded in their plans, but they still did some shit. A bunch of goddamn shit, like almost killing me. The only good thing about any of this shit is that they never came after Posey.

“She wanted more, I think. Hazzard, that is.”

Bullet shakes his head. “Unfortunately, that seems to be the case with the clubwhores.”

As much as I want to say that it’s all unwarranted, I’m not sure it is. We fuck them, we flirt with them. They are part of our world, brought into our fold. Trusted as much as anyone could be. And then they betray us.

I don’t know why we keep letting them do it. They’re whores. The sex is good. The fucking without feelings. Except they seem to catch goddamn feelings. I don’t know how to fix this. I’m not sure there is even truly a fix.

Do we tell Lolita to build a wall, to remember her place, a spot that she should already know where she firmly stands? Do we tell Ice that she’s nothing but a lay? Remind all of them exactly who the fuck they are? Because it seems they’ve forgotten.

Completely fucking forgotten.

“Do we need to gather them all up and remind everyone of their place?” I ask.

“I think we might.”

Bullet jerks his chin. “Once we search Barry’s place, we’ll do just that.”

And that’s how it goes. We drive to Barry Scott’s place.

We look through his shit. We don’t find a goddamn thing that links anyone else to this shit.

There is nothing in his place, although I do take his computer, which is the only thing worth a single goddamn thing in this apartment.

I don’t know if there is anything on here, but it’s worth a try.

“Well, I guess we go home,” Bullet announces.

Holding the computer to my side with my good hand, I scan the space and stop at a picture frame. Moving toward it, I stop as my eyes scan the image. It’s a picture of Hazzard and Barry when they were younger. Reaching out, I wrap my fingers around the edge and bring it closer to me.

“They look young,” Bullet murmurs.

Shaking my head, I clear my throat, looking over at him. “It’s not that. They look too close,” I say. “I don’t see siblings. They are too close. It’s bothersome.”

Bullet takes the framed picture from me. His eyes scan it, then he arches a brow, looking back at me. “His hand is on her tit.”

“It is,” I confirm. “I don’t think this was just about money.”

“I’m going to guess it was also about the fact that he was in love with his own sister.”

“Yeah,” I grunt.

Placing the picture back on the shelf, I take a step backward.

I don’t pretend to know a goddamn thing about people’s lives.

I sure as fuck don’t have a perfect one.

However, thinking about Cidney, who is the only female relative I have close enough to consider a sister, I shiver in disgust at the thought.

“We’re done here,” I say.

And I’m done with Barry Scott and Hazzard. Two people who betrayed me. Betrayed the club in unforgivable ways. And now they’re gone.

“I’m ready to go back home.”

POSEY

I pace.

Back and forth.

Over and over, to the point where I’m pretty sure there is a worn path in the concrete beneath my feet. I wait for Justin. He said he would be back, to not answer the door for anyone.

I follow that request—that demand.

Not that anyone has even knocked or tried to enter. They haven’t. Still, I wouldn’t let them in if they did. My feet move back and forth in front of the window, and as they do, I think about the stability of the building, hoping that everything is okay since a car ripped through the front of it.

That’s something I hadn’t thought about before. Now it’s all I can think about. What if this fucking building falls down on my head while I’m pacing back and forth? Fucking hell.

Then the door handle jiggles, and I watch as the top dead bolt slowly unlocks. The door swings open, and he’s there. Standing right in front of me. He appears exhausted but devastatingly gorgeous. He moves through the room, only stopping to close and lock the door behind him.

I think about asking Justin one of the million questions that are spinning around in my head, but as he moves toward me, my mind calms, and the questions vanish.

As his fingers reach out, touching the center of my throat before they gently glide down to the top of my chest, the only thought in my head is want. The only feeling in my body is need.

“Justin,” I breathe.

He dips his chin, and his mouth finds mine, his lips brushing mine before his tongue slips inside of me, tasting me fully. Arching my back, I melt toward him, wishing I could actually melt into him.

When we’re both breathless, only then does he break the kiss, shifting his face as his lips move from mine to press against my forehead. Closing my eyes, I let out a sigh at the feel of his warm, soft mouth against my skin.

I whimper when he takes a step backward, his eyes finding mine. “It’s done, princess.”

“It’s done,” I repeat.

I say the words, but they don’t register. At least not until he continues. “Lucian, this bullshit with my client and Hazzard. It’s all done.”

Pressing my lips together, I roll them a few times before I release them and speak. “Does this mean we’re together?”

“Posey,” he growls. “We were fucking together the minute you pulled that hot-as-shit red car into the clubhouse lot and then emerged wearing that sexy-as-sin red dress. You’re carrying my baby, and you hold my fucking heart.”

Oh. My. God.

I hold his heart.

Tears fill my eyes. I’ve never cried so much in my whole life. It’s like my body was saving up all my tears for this emotional journey. Blinking back the tears, I try really hard not to let them fall.

Instead, my lips curve up into a small smile, and I rise to my toes, touching my mouth to his, knowing that if I look into his eyes and say this, I’ll end up a blubbering, crying mess, so maybe if I do it this way, I won’t.

“I love you, Justin Whitaker. I can’t wait for our lives together to truly begin.”

Justin’s mouth smiles against mine. “Let’s start right now, princess, with you riding me until we both come.”

My thighs squeeze together at the thought. I’ve been craving him, and now we can finally be together without anything hanging over us. Without any drama, without any danger. Taking a step backward, I strip out of my clothes, help Justin out of his, and do exactly as he’s demanded.

I ride him until we both come… twice.

I’m about to fall asleep beside him when I let out a heavy sigh.

This is what I’ve always dreamed life could be.

This is what I’ve always wanted. To love and be loved.

I don’t know what tomorrow is going to bring, but what I do know is that whatever comes our way, we’ll be standing side by side for it.

Always.