Page 26 of Wild Side (Vicious Reapers MC #3)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

ZADIE

Rolling over to the side, I reach out and slide my hand across the cold sheets. I’m not surprised. It seems as if Chase can’t sleep in. Maybe it’s just who he is. I love to sleep, and being pregnant, I feel like I could sleep all day, every day.

I’m not sure what time it is, but when I hear someone talking in the background, I know it has to be late in the morning. I know I haven’t been here long, but what I do know is that these men do not wake up early.

Pushing up to sitting, I let out a heavy sigh as I throw my legs over the side of the bed.

I stand up and reach for the shirt on the floor, then pull it on over my head, tugging it down over my ass as I shuffle through the room, sliding my feet into a pair of slippers, then slip down the hallway to the bathroom.

Once I’ve taken care of business, I leave the bathroom and slip past the bedrooms and toward the kitchen. My stomach clenches at the thought of food. I almost feel nauseous, but I know I’m just hungry—starving.

The kitchen is full of three women and two men. They all swing their gazes around to look at me. I recognize two of the girls, Ice and Daisy. Then I recognize one of the men, Goose. His eyes find mine before he jerks his chin in my direction.

“Mornin’,” he murmurs.

I’m not sure what the meeting is about in the kitchen, but I try to ignore it. Moving toward the refrigerator, I reach for the handle and gently tug it open. I try to concentrate on the contents, but I’m not sure I can with everyone in here.

I stand staring at the fridge, but I don’t see anything. Then I hear a voice behind me. It’s Goose. I only know it’s him without looking because he sounds almost identical to Chase, except for one thing—he’s a little raspier.

Straightening, I look over my shoulder, and I smile. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you,” I murmur.

And I didn’t, because I was completely lost inside my own head. I’m too engrossed in trying not to be noticed or hear anything, so I actually didn’t hear a single thing. Goose doesn’t smile. His eyes search mine for a long moment before his lips twitch into a smirk.

“Mornin’, Zadie,” he says.

“Morning,” I quip.

He shakes his head once, then chuckles softly, almost as if he’s laughing to himself. “You doin’ okay?”

A few days ago, the way he always looked at me with pure disdain, I would assume he was asking me to be a dick. But something shifted between us when he stood up for me against my father. There is something different about him, the way he looks at me. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t hate me anymore.

At least that’s what I hope.

“Yeah,” I exhale.

He jerks his chin, his eyes still focused on mine, unwavering. He chews on the corner of his bottom lip, then clears his throat again before he takes a step backward. “Maverick’s out for the day. I’ll be hanging around here if you need anything.”

I’m not sure why he’s telling me that Chase is gone and why he wouldn’t tell me himself. Something about the announcement sends alarm bells off in my head, but I can’t imagine Chase’s own twin would do anything to harm him, so I shake the thoughts off.

“Thanks,” I rasp, unsure of what else to say.

A few moments later, the room empties, and I’m left alone in the kitchen. I’m glad for it. I gather some ingredients for scrambled eggs. Nothing fancy, just eggs, salt, and pepper. I can tell just by looking at them that they won’t be as amazing as the ones Chase made me the other day.

I think about the muffins and the cupcakes, then let out a grunt because I’ve eaten them all. I can’t believe I’ve eaten as much as I have, but they are not only amazing, they satisfy me like nothing else can.

Well, in regard to food.

It’s almost like this baby is only fueled by carbs.

That’s going to become dangerous, because I have a feeling consuming two to three buttercream cupcakes a day is going to cause some major weight gain.

I’m trying really hard to care, but the need for the sweet treat outweighs the size of my clothes.

After eating my eggs and cleaning up the pan, then making a bowl of fruit and eating that, too, I know I need something more… something like a pastry. I head back into Chase’s bedroom, gather my things, and get dressed for the day with only one thing on my mind… carbs.

Must get carbs… stat.

And no ordinary carbs will do. Sure, I have bread here, and I could make toast, but I already know it’s not going to be enough. I need dense, beautiful, tasty muffins or cupcakes from the bakery.

Once I’m dressed, I go in search of my rental Jeep keys, frowning as I look around the bedroom, even checking the nightstand drawer, because I come up completely empty-handed. They aren’t in my purse, either.

I walk out of the room and make my way to the bar, then step outside, thinking that maybe they’re actually in said Jeep. I stop outside, and my breath hitches when I realize that said Jeep is no longer parked where it last was.

Reaching for the phone that I’ve tucked into my back pocket, I start to look for Chase’s number, but I realize I still don’t have it. That’s something I need to make sure I get next time I see him, especially since I’m going to be staying here with him.

Chewing on my bottom lip, I stare at the almost empty parking lot and let out a heavy sigh.

There are a few bikes, a few pickup trucks, and an SUV, none of which is the Jeep.

I’m not quite sure what to do. I could go inside and look for Goose, ask him for his brother’s number, maybe ask him for a ride, but that seems weird.

So instead, I make my way back into the bar, slip into the kitchen, and scrounge around for some carbs and a water before I go back to Chase’s room and flip on the television and wait.

Chase will be back soon. There is food and water here. But I guess we need to continue the conversation we had earlier, like when I’m going to get my stuff from the motel and where my rental is located.

MAVERICK

“So we’ll package all this shit up over here,” I say, pointing to a section of the store. “This goes out to one of our old buyers. They’ll be here in about an hour to pick it up.”

Lightning jerks his chin as he goes about showing the prospects what to pack.

“This is going a lot smoother than I expected,” Bullet murmurs next to me.

It is, which causes my senses to tingle. Because nothing ever goes quite this smoothly. Especially when it’s a transitional overhaul. We’re not just changing office buildings or suppliers.

We’re ceasing to run an entire business. One that had clients—under the table—living in the depths of the underworld. And they don’t usually accept changes very easily, nor do they adapt easily.

“I’m leery,” I admit.

Bullet snorts. “Yeah, same.”

Once the shit is all packed up, I glance at my phone to check if the buyer has messaged me, but there’s nothing. Glancing over to Viking, I jerk my chin toward him, then ask if he’s received anything, but he doesn’t have dick.

There’re five of us here, and it’s not like I’m worried about anything safety-wise, but at the same time, it feels like something is definitely up, and I have no fucking reason to feel that way other than I just do.

An hour passes, then another, and my uneasy feeling grows.

Lightning, Viking, and Bullet are busy moving around the shop and getting shit handled, ordering prospects to get shit packed, separated, and ready for all the different places it’s going.

Some boxes are heading to other buyers, other boxes are headed to the dump, and a few are going to be sold online.

When I check my phone again, there is a knock on the back door. I narrow my eyes, watching it for a moment, as if the door itself is going to perform some kind of act of magic or some such shit.

Everyone else is busy, so I make my way toward the offending door and wrench it open. There, standing in front of me, is the buyer I’ve been waiting for. I don’t ask him inside, at least not yet.

Flicking my gaze past him, I notice there is a box truck parked behind him. Everything seems to be on the up and up. I tell myself that it’s only because I’m the one imagining the worst. After dealing with Halo, I can’t trust a fucking person, not even another Reaper, let alone this guy.

This is on me, not him, so I jerk my chin and say hello.

“You’re late.” I take a step backward so he can pass by me.

He grunts but otherwise doesn’t respond to my jab. Weird, but not necessarily guilty of anything. I try to calm down, try to relax, but it doesn’t work. The vibes are really fucking off.

“Traffic,” he states.

Thunder Rock has no fucking traffic. Alarm bells begin to ring, but before I can warn anyone, before I can say anything or prepare myself, he spins around with a gun in his hand, pointing it directly at me.

“Get the fuck down, or I’ll blow your head off,” he grinds out.

I don’t make a motion to move. I’m not some bitch who’s going to just drop to my knees because he tells me to.

Fuck that.

Lifting my chin slightly, I look down my nose at him. I don’t take my eyes off him, trying to find a moment when I can reach for my gun, but before that happens, I hear the door open behind me, and the barrel of a gun is pressed against the back of my head.

“On your knees, bitch,” the man growls.

I don’t recognize the voice, but that doesn’t mean shit. It could be someone I know. It could just be one of the buyer’s men. Some random fucking guy who is here to do dirty work. I don’t know, but what I do know is that nobody here is going to get away with a goddamn thing.

He pushes the cool metal of the gun’s barrel harder against my head, but I don’t move. I don’t want to die today, but at the same time, I’m not a fucking pussy. The man in front of me tilts his head to the side. I stare at him, my jaw clenched.

Before another word is spoken, Lightning and Viking appear behind the buyer. The man behind me lets out a laugh. “You make a single fucking move, and your friend here is dead,” he growls.

The buyer slowly turns around, likely feeling very brave in this moment. I’m not sure what look he gives Lightning and Viking, but they don’t appreciate it, judging by the scowls they return.

“I’m here to pick up my boxes,” the buyer announces. “And I won’t be paying for them.”

It’s not an extreme amount of money. Less than a hundred grand worth of shit. He’s getting it at a huge discount, so I’m not quite sure why he would put himself in danger this way. I open my mouth to ask him that when a loud thump hits my ears, then I’m surrounded by darkness.