Finally clothed, my trousers are tight and black, my boots hard and heavy, and my T-shirt…well, it’s Grinder’s. Makes me feel close to him. I flop down onto the bed beside Spencer with my cup of tea in hand.
“I’ve been thinking…” I don’t bother turning my head to look at him. Instead, I take a long pause and sip my tea with the beautiful sound of revving motorcycle engines as a backdrop from outside.
“That’s dangerous.” He huffs a laugh and I can feel his eyes on me.
“And that’s rude.” I nudge his shoulder and chuckle, backing off a little when Pepper lifts his head to peer at me from his slumber. “Should we tell someone about our plan?”
“Fucking finally.” Falling backward on the bed dramatically, he groans and it sounds a lot like relief. “You women and your secrets are gonna be the death of me.” He glares at me, but he’s smirking and I poke my tongue out.
“At least we all know you’re a super secret keeper. But also…women, plural? What other secrets are you keeping?” My interest is piqued.
Sitting up, he finally grabs a pastry and begins picking it apart to eat.
“The whole thing with Mac faking her death and torturing her brother was a biggy.” He nods as though remembering our conversation last night.
“Aaaand…?”
He glares at me with raised brows and lifts his chin. “I wouldn’t be a super secret keeper if I told you that.”
“Dammit. I wanna push you for more but I respect the hell out of it too.” I give him my best evil eye to show my dissatisfaction and he laughs.
This is all a happy distraction to our real issue. Grinder is missing. Not just missing, but taken.
And it’s all my fucking fault. Because I can’t keep my gob shut or my stabby hands to myself. I mean, the stupid cunt who got jealous of her bodyguard and tried to stab me didn’t help, but she’s mush now and, apparently, daddy dearest isn’t.
According to The Butcher’s intel, Viktor O’Malley isn’t at the tippety top of the knobcheese food chain, but he isn’t a grunt either. Surprisingly, he’s a preacher. One of many who work for The Fellowship of Eternal Dawn. Basically, a fucking cult. And they’ve been expanding their reach around Rockford Beach, gradually getting closer, over the last couple of years.
The females are the epitome Stepford Wives and their babies come from kidnapped women that the men enjoy raping, so yeah…destroying one of their little compounds a few days ago isn’t a travesty.
Viktor’s beef with me stems from the fact that I damaged some of his men while they were supposed to be watching his daughter—who definitely shouldn’t have been at a club but I don’t know how this cult operates so I really don’t give a fuck why she was there. Now, though, there’s a price on my head for capture so her daddy dearest can turn me into a breeder. Allegedly.
A knock on the door pulls me from my musings and I stand to open it.
“Brother!” Leaping into Sledge, I wrap my arms around him and squeeze, but when he physically winces, I pull back, taking in the new bruise on his cheek and the way he’s favoring his left side. “Who hurt you and are they already dead?”
“We have mutual friends, little sis.” He raises his brows. “Just got back from a stakeout that went a little sideways.” He shrugs, one hand casually in the pocket of his jeans as he smirks.
I narrow my eyes and pout, shoving my hands on my hips.
“What do you know?” The Butcher wouldn’t rat me out, but fuck. Maybe I underestimated the Reaper connection thing.
“Never thought I’d say this while standing outside Grinder’s door but…let me in. I need to sit down and Sabrina told me you have tea in there.”
I step to the side and hold out my arm with a dramatic curtsey worthy of the best jesters. “Enter at your own risk. Mwahahaha. But really…what do you know? And how?” I don’t exactly have a plethora of friends, more like acquaintances, and they’re mostly all across the pond.
“Alright, Spence.” Sledge tilts his head and gives Spencer a wink before sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room. “What was your plan, Sis?” His attention is now solely on me. Judging.
I frown.
“I asked you first.” I close the door and take my position back beside Spencer and Pepper on the bed.
“Then we’re at an impasse." Shrugging, he relaxes into the chair, not a care in the world.
I can feel Spencer’s gaze burning a hole into the side of my head and I have a huge urge to push him over. But for one, Pepper would claw my face off, and two, I know he’s trying to keep his mouth shut about our little Get-Grinder-Back secret plan. Sledge is my brother, and I should be the one to say the words.
“Ugh.” Rolling my eyes, I flop back onto the bed and stare at the ceiling. I’m not sure I can handle the disappointment in Sledge’s face when he hears what I have to say. “I called The Butcher.”
“I know.”