His expression hardens. "Then God help her, because the club won't."
After he leaves, I finish patching myself up and change into the spare clothes kept in the apartment's dresser. They're generic club wear. Black t-shirt with a reaper logo, jeans a size too big, but they're clean, which is more than I can say for my blood-spattered clothes.
I'm too wired to sleep, so I pace the small living area, replaying the night's events in my head. The fight at the gas station keeps looping back, frame by frame.
I'm not a stranger to violence. Growing up in the system, you learn to defend yourself or you become a target. And the club has its share of altercations. But tonight was different. Tonight was life or death, and I was alone with Maddie.
Chapter 7 - Maddie
The moment Dice leaves with Blade, the temperature in the room seems to drop ten degrees. Reaper's expression, neutral while Dice was present, darkens considerably. Ghost takes a seat beside him, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. Ace and Viper remain at the table, while Wilder positions himself near the door—blocking my exit, I realize.
No more pretense of hospitality. Now comes the real interrogation.
"Let me be perfectly clear, Ms. Brooks," Reaper begins, his voice deceptively calm. "The only reason you're sitting here instead of being handed over to whatever enemy you've made is because Dice vouches for you. And because, for reasons I cannot fathom, he seems to care about your wellbeing."
I hold his gaze, refusing to be intimidated. "I understand."
"I don't think you do." He leans forward. "You brought violence to my town. To my club's doorstep. Three men are dead, my prospect is implicated, and we have unknown hostiles with resources and information they shouldn't have watching our movements."
"I didn't plan for any of this," I say, maintaining my composure even as my insides twist with guilt. "I was set up."
"That much is obvious." Ghost's voice is dry. "The question is by whom, and why."
"I've been trying to figure that out myself."
Reaper's fist comes down on the table, making everyone jump. "Try harder."
The mask of civility has dropped completely now. This is the man James warned me about, the one who earned the name Reaper through blood and iron.
"Think," he continues. "Someone went to considerable trouble to get to you. Someone with resources, planning capabilities, and knowledge about your personal connections. This isn't random. This isn't coincidence. This is targeted."
I take a deep breath. He's right, of course. I need to set aside my pride, my instinct to handle this alone, and really think.
"I've made enemies," I admit. "In my line of work, it's inevitable."
"Your line of work being theft," Ace clarifies, his tone clinical rather than judgmental.
"Among other things." I see no point in pretense now. "But most of those jobs were one and done. Clean exits, professional courtesy. No reason for this level of retaliation."
"Somebody obviously disagrees," Ghost observes.
I close my eyes briefly, trying to organize my thoughts. Who would go to these lengths? Who has the resources? Who has a grudge personal enough to target James as well as me?
And then it hits me—a memory from nearly three years ago. Dublin. Rain-slicked streets. A job that was supposed to be simple.
"Tiernan Walsh," I say, opening my eyes. "It has to be him."
The name clearly means nothing to them.
"Irish businessman," I explain. "Legitimate front, but his real money comes from moving luxury goods on the black market. Three years ago, James and I hit his private collection. We took two watches. Supposedly prototypes with some kindof embedded technology. Sold them to a private buyer in Amsterdam."
"The same kind of watch you were after tonight?" Ghost asks sharply.
I nod, the pieces falling into place. "Similar design, at least from the outside. I didn't make the connection until now."
"And this Walsh character," Reaper says. "He's the vindictive type?"
"Extremely." I suppress a shudder. "There were rumors about what happened to the last person who crossed him. Nothing confirmed, but... ugly stories."
