Page 29 of The Biker’s Guilty Pleasur

Reaper gritted his teeth. This was not fucking good.

“Have you had any other threats?” he asked.

“None. I mean, I always get calls, and there are always threats, but this is ... this is different.”

“Who else has touched this package?”

“It was just me and the courier, no one else.”

He’d ridden on a fucking bike, and he needed to get this secured. “Grab me a bag. Large enough to carry this fucking box,” he said.

He didn’t usually swear, but if the judge was about to start making threats to the club, he needed to be prepared.

“What are you doing?” Gena asked.

“I’ve got a couple of friends that should be able to analyze the box.”

“You mean for, like, fingerprints?”

“Yes.” He’d be able to find out if the judge was happy getting his hands dirty, or if he paid people to do it.

“What do I do in the meantime?” Gena asked.

“Lock up tight, and call me if you see anything suspicious.”

“What about calling the cops?” Gena asked.

“Don’t call them. You never know who they might have on their payroll. Keep Heidi safe. Keep them all safe, and until I say otherwise, only authorized personnel are allowed here, got it?” he asked.

Gena nodded. “Yeah, I got it.”

“Don’t tell Grace about this,” he said. “It’s going to be okay, you’ve just got to trust me. I’ll make sure everything is squared away, and if you need anything, anything at all...”

“You’re a good man, Reaper,” she said, and started to escort him out of the building. Reaper made sure she locked the door before he took a step back, and he checked the perimeter for any signs of a black SUV, or any suspicious activity. There was nothing.

Getting to his bike, he secured the package.

Women, children, and animals were total innocents in his book, or at least, most women. He knew of some that were evil.

Chapter Eleven

Reaper showed up at the club and found most of his brothers in the main yard. He got off his bike and was intercepted by Brick, the club VP.

“They only searched your room,” he said. “They were gone in less than half an hour.”

“Grace?”

“She’s fine. The women are in the dining hall, completely oblivious.”

“How the fuck did they get a warrant for my room?” Reaper asked.

He shrugged. “I was there the whole time, making sure they didn’t fuck anything up. The warrant was legit.”

“Signed by Cartwright?”

“Yeah.”

“The asshole signs his own warrants. He’s threatening the shelter, looking for something. I don’t know what. Someone sent a severed finger as a warning. I know it was him.”