“What did he say? And what was the context?”
I sighed.
“I accused him of being a rat, and we got into a big fight. After the fight ended, he said that they didn’t need my kind around.”
Rose winced. At least that affirmed to me that I had had the right thought to call it racist.
“Even still, even if this guy turns out to be a member of the KKK or is some white supremacist, do you really want to see him killed?” she said. “ If he dies, don’t you think everyone else will too? Do you want to see all your friends killed?”
All my friends...
She made a good point. Butch might have been racist—truth be told, my gut suspected he had just chosen his words very poorly, but I was still going to be guarded around him—but even if that was the case, that didn’t excuse me letting the rest of the Reapers fall prey to whatever the Saints had planned. And in any case, let’s be honest, the Reapers were probably my only friends, if I had any.
Jerome? He was just playing the game, trying to get me to reunite with him. His goal wasn’t to make me happy—his goal was to get the Hovas to a position of power in Southern California. Rose? Well, that wasn’t a question to ponder tonight. There wasn’t anyone else. And Lane had tried to stick up for me... and Patriot had stuck up for me when I was facing my own questioning.
Maybe I had no true friends in the sense I didn’t have anyone I could talk to about my darkest secrets or darkest parts of my past. But I sure as hell had some guys that would stand up for me when things got ugly. If that wasn’t worth protecting, then nothing was.
“What was said to you back at the store?” I said.
“They said they were going to do awful things to me. As soon as I said I could call the Black Reapers for help, they got aggressive very quickly and said that after tomorrow night, there wouldn’t be any Reapers left. That’s really all I know.”
Shit.
“Not like they laid out their battle strategy to me.”
“I understand. But this is critical to know.”
I wonder if the rat knows I’m gone from the club, giving them a window to strike.
“And you’re sure of this?” I said.
“One hundred percent,” she said. “I don’t see why they’d lie about there being no Reapers tomorrow night. They were not shy about saying they were going to come and take me. They were practically gloating.”
The very thought enraged me. I could all too easily picture the Saints dancing in celebration over Rose because I had practically seen it at Brewskis. If Lane, Patriot, and I had shown up just a few minutes later to that bar, I might not have seen anything, which would have been too horrifying to contemplate.
I believed her.
It may have been just what we needed between each other, but that was a conversation for another night.
“I owe you,” I said, standing up. “I gotta go. You stay low. Don’t go anywhere at night. Spend the night here. Understood?”
She nodded. I got up, leaned forward, and kissed her on the forehead.
“The Saints may be laying low right now before tomorrow night, but that doesn’t mean they won’t take the chance to grab a woman alone.”
“But Shiloh—”
Shit.
“I’ll drive you back,” I said. “But we gotta leave now.”
Rose nodded. The way she looked at me, the way she yearned for me, it was like she wanted me to kiss her. She wanted to know I would be there to protect her.
And I would.
But not now.
“Come on.”
