Page 30 of The Biker’s Guilty Pleasur

“That piece of shit needs to go. He has too much power,” Brick said. “Lord is big-time pissed off. You know how he feels about the club being off the grid. He’s going to want you to deal with this.”

“I know. I will.”

Reaper knew he was on thin ice with his prez, and had no fucking clue what that asshole Cartwright wanted with the shelter, or him specifically. Maybe his wife stole something from him when she left. Maybe it was a threat to anyone harboring Heidi. He was probably taking revenge on the shelter since it’s the one place he couldn’t send his paid-off cops without putting out a ton of red flags. Men like him wanted to keep their personal drama off the radar or they could risk their careers.

Reaper didn’t like that he had the power to walk through the club gates with the stroke of a pen. Crooked judges were dangerous, could be paid off by their rivals, and make their own rules. He couldn’t have that. This was bigger than protecting the shelter, Gena, and the women who stayed there. It was also about the future of the club and its safety. Those were his responsibilities and he’d deal with them however he needed.

He gave the box to Copper and told him to get it to his forensic friend. Then he went to his room to check on it before Grace saw it.

Not much was out of place, thanks to Brick. He imagined his VP had been right up the cops’ asses, making sure not one paper was out of place. Were they even looking for anything, or was it a message letting him know the judge had all the cards? They had a warrant for the club and didn’t bother to check out their stockpiles of weapons, cash, or records in Lord’s office? This was all bullshit.

Bob came out from under the bed. Poor fucking cat. Reaper picked him up and rubbed his head. He was probably scared and in shock from all the strangers in the room earlier. At least he looked okay, besides being nervous. He set him down on the bed.

He should get his ass to Cartwright’s mansion and put a bullet between his eyes. And it might come down to just that. Right now, he needed answers. That prick wasn’t doing all this for nothing. He was scared. But of what?

He went downstairs to find Grace. The most important thing to him was keeping all this bullshit away from her. He didn’t want her worried, scared, or looking over her shoulder. That’s one of the things he loved about her—she always saw the positive in things and was sweet innocence. That’s why he told Gena not to tell her anything. And he knew his brothers would take the information to the grave. She should carry on as normal and leave all the worrying to him.

He watched her for a while. She was sitting having pastries with a couple of the old ladies. She looked happy, and it warmed his heart to see her starting to fit in. That woman was everything to him.

One of the women nudged her, and she turned around to see him leaning against the pillar near the entrance of the dining hall. She immediately smiled and said goodbye as she rushed over to him.

“Was everything okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, just a little electrical issue. All sorted out now.” He hated lying to her, but the truth would be too much for her to handle.

“Good. The shelter should really have a handyman service on file. They can’t just call you in the middle of the night for every issue. That’s not fair.”

“They don’t usually,” he said. “Anyway, I’m tired. Are you ready to head upstairs?”

She nodded, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

****

Grace could see Reaper sitting out front on his bike through the store glass.

She told him to drop her off at work and she’d let him know when to pick her up. He was being too overprotective. Nothing odd had happened in several days. Her shifts were uneventful, except her manager complaining about the biker scaring away customers. She didn’t mention that Reaper was her boyfriend. The next time she glanced out front, he was gone.

She took a breath, really hoping things could start to go back to normal. It had been almost a week since she’d been to her apartment. Although she loved sleeping at Reaper’s place, hiding and being in limbo forever wasn’t going to work for her. There were often threats volunteering at a shelter, but they passed. Like now.

Gena had been especially quiet, so maybe things were going back to normal. Grace was used to volunteering several nights a week, so she looked forward to going over after work for a while. Reaper didn’t want her going over there because he was sure whoever had been following her was one of the husbands of an intake. It had to be Heidi’s husband because everything went downhill since her and her daughter showed up that night.

But the men usually moved on once the shock was over, and it looks like the same thing in this case. Grace was just a volunteer and occasional intake worker when staff was short. She was no threat to anyone.

The shift at the bubble tea shop was unusually slow, so her manager let her off a few hours early. Instead of telling Reaper to come by, she just started walking to the shelter. She hated being a constant bother to him. He probably felt like her chauffeur by now, but the club was in the suburbs and she didn’t drive.

It was a relaxing walk to the shelter. No cars following her, nothing out of the ordinary. It felt good to be in her familiar stomping grounds, and she had the urge to check on her apartment. She’d pop in on her way over to water her plants and check her mail, at least. There was no need for Reaper to worry because she wasn’t staying. Her mind kept drifting to the future. If things worked out with them, would she move into the club and give up her apartment? Or would he leave the club? She wasn’t sure how things worked for bikers. All the other wives lived at the club, so maybe that was the norm. Would she even want that for herself?

Grace was still digesting so many new things in her life. One thing she couldn’t complain about was Reaper. All he did was make her feel happy, safe, and wanted. She’d do whatever it took to make things work between them.

As she approached her building, she dug through her oversized purse for her keys. She hadn’t needed them in a while. The stairway had the same musty scent, and she realized she wasn’t missing out on anything here. The only good thing about coming home was Bob, but now he was settled at Reaper’s place.

At first Reaper was standoffish with the cat, but she’d caught him petting Bob a few times when he didn’t know she was watching.

Grace opened her apartment door and gasped. She dropped her purse and covered her mouth with both hands. Panic overtook her, her heart rate picking up quickly. Her little apartment had been completely ransacked.

Everything was knocked over and out of place. Her papers and decorations all scattered on the floor. She walked in, careful where she stepped. Why would someone rob her place? She had almost nothing of value. The few things that she had to save for were still there, which was odd.