Page 35 of Riot’s Revenge

A few minutes later Reaper reached for one end of a bookcase.

Maria pointed at Reaper the second she caught him reaching for a box. “No.”

Reaper stopped so abruptly you’d think she’d pulled a gun on him. “What? I came to help.”

“You’re not lifting anything.”

“I feel fine.”

Maria folded her arms across her chest. “You cracked three ribs.”

“It was months ago.”

I looked away before either of them caught the grin threatening to happen.

Around us, brothers were suddenly finding very interesting reasons to linger nearby. Nobody wanted to help move boxes anymore. Apparently watching Reaper argue with Maria was the better entertainment. Ghost had already wandered over and parked himself on the back of the van.

“It was recent enough,” Maria argued.

He looked at me for support, and I shrugged. There was no way I was getting in the middle of that. “She’s the medic.”

His expression suggested I’d betrayed him.

Maria folded her arms. “Sit down.”

“I’m not twelve.”

“Then stop behaving like you are.”

Ghost laughed so hard he fell off the back.

Ten minutes later, Reaper was sitting on the sidewalk looking sorry for himself while Maria stood beside him, making sure he stayed there, with a faint smile appearing on her face.

It took over an hour to load everything. By the time we finished, the truck was full, and darkness had started settling across the city.

Maria stood beside the truck, looking overwhelmed. “You didn’t have to do all this.” The words were quiet.

I frowned. “Sure, we did.”

“No, you didn’t.” She said it like she genuinely couldn’t understand why a half dozen people would give up their afternoon to help her move.

The thing was, from where I was standing, there hadn’t really been another option. She needed help. We showed up. That was it.

I leaned back against the truck and watched Ghost argue with Reaper about whether carrying a lamp technically counted as manual labor. Nobody had been asked twice or complained. That was just how things worked. Maybe it was the club? Because we’d spent years learning that sooner or later everybody needed somebody. Either way, when one person got knocked down, the rest stepped in and helped carry the weight.

Maria kept looking around the parking lot like she was waiting for the catch. A woman shouldn’t look that shocked when people showed up for her.

I watched her tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear while she stared at the brothers laughing and joking. She’d been ready to do it alone, as though there’d never been another option.

Christ. No wonder she looked exhausted all the time.

“It’s how it works with us.”

Maria looked over at me.

I held her gaze for a second before jerking my chin toward the chaos unfolding around us. “Somebody needs help, rest of us show up.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, and I turned away to tell the brothers where to go next, before I could think too much about it.