Page 102 of I Will Revel in Glory (Death by Daybreak MC 3)
I think about that question as they all turn to look at me.
How do I feel?
“Like shit,” I offer up, shrugging my shoulders and picking up a fork to poke at my pancakes. Grainger cooked these for me. I think about that. I really fucking think about that, how we got from point A to point B, and it blows my mind apart. If I weren’t so relentless … If they weren’t so relentless.
If they hadn’t come for me.
I’d be a mafia princess right now. Instead, I’m taking a bite of a surprisingly fluffy pancake and casting a suspicious look in Cade’s direction. He pretends not to notice, cutting up his own pancakes.
“You made the right choice,” Beast tells me, but I don’t believe it. Even though I know he’d only tell me the real and honest truth. Guilt swarms over me, but I can’t let it drown me. Last night was a disaster in so many ways. I didn’t end up getting vengeance for my sisters. All I did was save a monster at the expense of a grieving mother’s life.
I am damned to hell, damned to burn, damned to rot and fester, damned to be a feast for maggots and worms.
“How so?” I clarify as Sin makes a sound of frustration, reaching out and snatching a pancake off my plate. He rolls it up and then bites the end of it off, like it’s a burrito or some shit.
“You think if the mafia was able to carry out a hit on a chapter president that the club would let it go? This ‘peace’ shit you’re talking about with your buddy Grey would never happen.” He takes another bite of his food as I think that over for a minute. He isn’t wrong about that. I know it. Doesn’t make it any easier.
Why couldn’t Cat just let that woman go? She wasn’t an ongoing threat; she was clearly manipulated into accepting such a horrible task. And the cops? They were going to let it happen, a murder right inside the precinct. Of course, the death of a notorious MC boss wouldn’t really have bothered the local community.
The city of Ashbury probably would’ve rejoiced.
I take another bite of my food, staring down at my plate in thought.
And that FBI guy? Grey Wolfe—the organization, not the man—has his brother. Or … at this point, had is probably a more apt word.
“Cat saved Grey’s life,” I say, just in case the guys haven’t picked up on it. What they have done, however, is run a freaking bug detector over every inch of this place to look for hidden cams or mics. That’s how worried they are about their own president. That’s what I woke up to, padding out of my husband’s bedroom to find Crown using a walkie-talkie lookalike to scan the house for surveillance.
A shiver traces down my spine.
“Fuck, that would piss him off,” Grainger remarks absently, finishing his plate and then standing up. He chucks it into the sink, and I see the slight twitch of Crown’s mouth as he takes note of Cade’s habits.
This is going to be an interesting adjustment, that’s for sure.
Cade turns around and leans his ass up against the kitchen counter.
“So the don suspects his son, huh? That won’t go well. We’re more likely to see your friend dead than taking over his father’s empire.” Grainger pauses at the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and then Reba’s stepping into the room, her eyes sweeping the four men.
She isn’t—and has never been—afraid of leather-bound outlaws.
“Mornin’, Gidge,” she says, nodding my way in greeting and patting Feminist’s head as he bounces up behind her and licks her hand. “Boys. I hope you’re treating this woman right. I won’t accept anything less.”
“You know I have manners, Miss Keller,” Beast offers up as I look toward Reba and her gaze lands on the plate of pancakes in front of me before flicking back to look at Grainger. She’s always hated him the most—and with good reason.
My best friend knows every sordid detail of what’s happened between me and these men. Having her around brings me more comfort than I care to admit. She’s like … a shield between me and the raw intimacy that I know needs to take place in this house.
Also, she’s in danger being here. Every second she spends at my side is a mistake. Cat proved that to me last night. I need to get Reba off the compound.
“Grainger cooked for me,” I say, pointing at the counter with my fork. “Grab some hotcakes and sit down. We need to talk about a plan to get you off this property.” I look over at Sin and Crown. “Can we just … take her off-site? Will Cat allow that?”
Cat told Crown that Reba wasn’t to leave the property without his permission. The chances of him giving in are slim, but I’m afraid. I’m afraid that things are going to go south quickly, just the way they did last night.
