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Squatting in front of his bike—fuck, sled—Reaper ran the cloth over his Sportster S. He had bought it new last year and it was the best ride he’d ever owned. The only issue he had was keeping it clean since the vivid black showed all the dirt and water spots.

Since his cabin didn’t have a garage or carport, he didn’t have anywhere to store it out of the weather. Luckily, Vi had been generous enough to allow him to park it in the Warehouse alongside hers and the rest of the Shadows’ Harleys.

As he wiped the rag over the seat, his hand paused when he heard a clearing of the throat behind him.

Damn it. She successfully snuck up on him. He was either losing his touch or getting more comfortable around his fellow teammates.

Or one teammate in particular.

“You’re slipping.” Vi moved around to stand on the other side of his bike. She slid her hand over the area he’d just wiped on the single seat. “Guess you never plan on hauling around a backpack.”

“Backpack?”

“A passenger.”

“No reason to haul anyone else’s ass around.”

“You would if you ever find an ol’ lady.”

When Vi shrugged, her sculpted bare shoulders drew his attention. And certainly held it. “If that ever happens, I’ll replace the seat then.”

“You’d impress a woman more by taking her for a ride on your sled than in that old Bronco of yours.”

He let his gaze slide down further, over the racerback tank clinging to her tits and firm stomach. He continued his path over her hips. The ones he had dug his fingers into the other night while she was riding his cock. That same appendage decided to twitch in his tactical pants, reminding him of how much he’d like to do that again. The sex part, not the porch swing part, due to the risk of her younger sister catching them in the act. “Then, good thing I have no desire to impress anyone.”

“No, you prefer your actions to speak for themselves.”

“Actions reveal more truth than words.”

She mmm’d. “How’d it go last night?”

He had texted her once he finished surveilling the two places where the Russos had been gathering. They had found new locations to meet or break bread since apparently they were paranoid about the old ones.

Imagine that.

Having members of your crime syndicate get picked off by some unseen gunman tended to make them a bit more cautious. Of course, that was the plan. The Russos still had no idea who was targeting them, but the more members their organization lost, the more they’d be forced to dig to stop their syndicate from bleeding out. Literally.

“Think it’s time to leave a more obvious hint,” he told her.

“I’ll let my sister know.”

“Nothing too obvious but easy enough to find if they search thoroughly.”

“I agree since—according to Ghost—they still haven’t struck back at the Chens.”

“The Russos might not be the brightest bulbs in the criminal underworld.”

“Let’s not underestimate them,” she warned.

“If they do have a clue, they could also be making plans to strike back. It hasn’t been very long since we started this mission. I’d assume they’d have to prep themselves to go into battle.”

Vi snorted. “Prep for battle? Like a legit army?”

“They are an army, boss, just not a legit one. You know, if the fight between the Chens and Russos becomes a huge war, maybe the feds will get wind of it and take care of them both for us.”

“I don’t give a shit about the Chens. I only care about the Russos.”

“You’ll care if they wipe out the Sicilians and take over Pittsburgh.”