Page 103 of I Will Revel in Glory (Death by Daybreak MC 3)
I can’t risk Reba’s life for a second longer. I need to get in touch with Grey, learn more about this convent, figure out how to get her there …
The boys exchange a look that freaks me out a little.
“Before I go,” Reba starts, pausing between my chair and Beast’s, her green eyes wet as she looks down at me. I can see how hard whatever she has to say is, how deeply it’s affecting her. She seems almost unstable on her feet, like she might need to sit down, or she’ll fall.
Beast seems to sense that and stands up, offering out his chair for Reba. She slides into it with a grateful sigh and carefully folds her hands in her lap.
“I know you probably … buried my parents somewhere. Could you take me there?” She looks up, letting her gaze trail over Sin and Crown. “I’d like the chance to say goodbye, at the very least.”
My heart constricts in my chest as I reach out and put my hand over Reba’s folded ones.
We all know that isn’t a possibility: I can’t allow Reba to have that sort of information. If she somehow let it slip, we could have the FBI here digging up bodies. Even worse than that, if Cat thinks Reba has dirt on the club, he’ll bury her himself.
My eyes meet Sin’s, and he blinks at me in recognition. Lie for me, my gaze says, and I hope he understands me. We can just take Reba to some random, pretty spot on the compound and let her use that as a place of contemplation.
“Yeah, I can show you later,” Sin agrees, his voice even and calm. It’s so at odds with the way he speaks to me when we’re alone. He’s a romantic, but he’s also a sneaky little dom, isn’t he? “Not today though. I have business at the big house.” He offers me a look. “Do you want to come with? Pretty sure Nellie’s going crazy up there by herself.”
He finishes his juice and stands up, slipping past me but not before reaching out to ruffle my hair. The move gets him a dark glare in response, but he doesn’t even see it, slipping up the stairs to his room.
“I’ll talk to Cat,” Crown offers up with a sigh. “He seems … slightly more agreeable after last night. We saw him briefly at church this morning.” His eyes shift to Beast’s for a minute, going half-lidded in frustration. “Which you didn’t attend.”
“Can’t leave Gidge alone,” Beast offers up, standing behind Reba with his huge arms crossed in front of his chest.
“You’re lucky the other men are afraid of you,” Crown offers up with a long sigh and then he too is taking his coffee with him and leaving.
Reba meets my gaze, but she doesn’t look afraid.
She never has been afraid of this club or anyone in it. Maybe she should have been? Maybe, all those years ago, when she sat beside me in kindergarten, I should’ve shoved her off her chair and made her cry the way I did to many other children. I should’ve driven her away from me and saved her all of this pain.
“Does … your brother have a grave?” she asks, and I just stare at her.
I don’t want to talk about Gaz right now. I certainly don’t want to see his grave.
I ignore her, standing up and taking my phone with me.
And then I put a call into Grey’s number and hope like hell that he answers me.
Nellie’s scrubbing the kitchen when we come in, her hair pinned back as she struggles to get something burnt off the bottom of a pan. Her blue eyes drift over to me, Reba by my side, and she smiles.
It’s such a nice smile, too. There’s a kernel of happiness to it that I haven’t seen since … fuck, it’s been years. Years. Before my sisters’ deaths, absolutely.
“Hi honey,” she says, putting the pan down and stripping off the hilarious black gloves she’s wearing. Does she know that she looks like a serial killer with them on? The black latex stretching up her inked arms. Regular housewives wear yellow gloves or pink ones. Really, anything but that ebony latex that looks like the same sort of gloves we were wearing when we were loading up the FBI guy and Ms. Briggs into a pickup truck.
“Hey,” I say, leaving Crown, Beast, and Grainger out front while Sin follows us in. He waits just behind us, trying to offer up some level of privacy. He’s always there, when it comes to family stuff, and I like that. I loved having him as a part of my life growing up, fucked as that sounds. Really, though, if you think about it, we grew up together. Sin was just sixteen years old when he started hanging around the club. That’s … so goddamn young.
