Chapter Eight
Reaper
Shit.The place is carnage.Blood and bodies are everywhere.Knives scattered and furniture torn to shreds.Bullet holes pepper the walls and water is squirting down from a punctured pipe in the ceiling.
It is no wonder Scarlet is shaking in my embrace.She’d seen things a woman should never have to see.Seen me at my absolute most vicious, murderous worst, revenge and my brand of justice ruling my actions, and my hands soaking once more in the blood of others.
“Hey, it’s over now.”I stroke her back and watch as Tank helps Consuela to her feet.She’s trembling and her eyes are wide.There is a smear of blood on her cheek and her t-shirt is ripped around the neck.
“Good job,” Jock says, hands on hips and looking around.“We showed them, huh.”
“This place is a fucking crime scene on speed,” Ghost says.“We got to turn it to ash.”
“Yeah, I know.Damn fucking shame.I like this place.”Jock frowns and looks at me.“Your woman okay?”
I’m about to reply that she’s not my woman but the words won’t form in my mouth.I’m possessive.I do want her to be mine.I sure as hell don’t want anyone else to even look at her.I make a low growling sound.“No thanks to the asshole who put a blade to her neck.”I maneuver her so I can see her throat.There’s a thin red line but luckily the surface of her perfect skin isn’t cut.But even that tiny mark sickens me and I’m glad the son of a bitch is dead as a doornail.
“I’m okay.”Scarlet looks up into my face then turns to Consuela.“What about her?”
Consuela nods.“Still breathing.”She manages a half smile.“Which I didn’t think I would be a few minutes ago.I’m sure glad you guys turned up.”
“Me too.”Jock nods at the door.“Everyone out.Gunshots might have been heard.Cops could be on the way.This needs flooring and all evidence burnt.”
As I help Scarlet outside, my club brothers get busy stacking up bodies and spreading petrol.Bikes are dumped in a ditch—damn waste of good steel—and weapons and wallets collected.
“We need to stay back,” I say.“This will go up like a tinderbox.”
We all stand at a safe distance as Ghost goes inside with a flaming rag.Within seconds he is running out of the safe house, fire licking at his heels and curling around the doorframe like hungry fingers.
I hold Scarlet tighter.She snuggles against me and curls her hands into my cut.Holding her feels like the most natural thing in the world.I don’t ever want to let go.But I will.
A window explodes and she jumps.I firm up my embrace, wanting to take everything away that could ever hurt or scare her again.
Within minutes the building is a furnace.Thick black smoke billows into the sky.It is wild and rampant and the flimsy roof quickly surrenders to the heat, collapsing in on itself with a giant creak and then a colossal bang.
Scarlet’s eyes are wide, the flames of the blood-soaked inferno reflecting in them.Suddenly I want her away from the place she’d almost died in.The place I’d brought her to ...the mortal danger I’d left her in.
“Come on,” I say, nodding at my bike.“Let’s go.”
She looks from me to Consuela.“And her?”
“No.”Consuela shakes her head.“You have all done so much for me.I want to get as far away from Denver as possible.”
