Page 15 of The Devil's Reward
“With the shit they’ve put me through, I don’t give a damn,” I retort.
“Just wait until you find a woman and she gets roped in,” Viper snickers.
I immediately think of Quinn, but just as quickly pushed that thought away. Nope, not going there. “I’d be more worried about any woman you bring in. You run towards crazy at warp speed, so chances are, whoever you pick will either be as bad or worse than Rose, Leonora, and Alice combined.”
Viper grins wickedly. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, brother,” he drawls.
“God help us,” Bullet groans. “I think we need some bylaws about picking women that are just plain nuts. We need some school teachers, librarians, or some shit. People that are calm and horrified at the shit the girls get up to.”
Viper and I just laugh. There might eventually be a few of those, but this life isn’t for the faint of heart. Not because we’re doing illegal shit, but because we’re wild, like to party, and bikers often get a bad rap. If a woman doesn’t have a thick skin, then she’ll be setting herself up for failure.
“Alright, you boys handle that. I’m going to see which sucker of a Prospect is going to be in charge of watching the women while we’re in Church,” Bullet drawls as he stands.
I smirk as we follow him out. I’m glad I’m no longer a Prospect, because I certainly don’t envy that part of the job. The women are crazy on their own; put them together, and it’s a whole other ball game. The kind where you’re wearing a cup and hiding all the bats.
I leave the office and head to my room. I have just enough time to grab a shower before Church.
When I reach my room, I close and lock the door behind me. I shrug off my cut and hang it on the hook by the door. I step out of my boots, my training compelling me to leave them neatly in line by the door. If there is one thing that the Forces taught me, it was how to stay clean and organized. I’m not OCD about it, but there are some habits I can’t break.
I pull my gun out of the holster at my back, unload it, and put it away in the small safe in my closet. No one has the code, and I change it every other day. Especially now with our mole. If he’s willing to try and kill one of the Old Ladies
I’m probably overthinking, but I have never been one to ignore the possibility he would frame one of us.
I strip out of my clothes and turn toward my small dresser. Pulling out some fresh clothes, I go to close the drawer, but stop when a flash of something catches my eye. I move the clothes on aside, and stare at the picture I put there years ago. Every so often I’ll look at it and feel comfort, but today, it’s another damn cruel joke.
I stare at not just Sam, but the entire team, arms around each other’s shoulders, grinning from ear to ear after a job well done. Decked out in active duty’s finest black t-shirts, fatigue pants and combat boots, we had just been debriefed about our mission, and Beau had demanded we get a picture. Made a civilian worker walking by take it.
I look at each of the men in the picture. Beau had been the jokester of the group, always wanting to make us smile and laugh, even if it cost him. Still, he would try. Armon had been far more serious, and our team leader. The man was a beast when it came to missions. There was no one else I would have rather followed. I had been second in command, a position I gladly took. Gibson, or Gibs as we called him, was our weapons expert. He loved to play with any new toys and explosives he could get his hands on.
Then there was Jasper, our intelligence gatherer. He was in charge of getting all details and information about our targets and missions. Until that final mission, he kept us from getting killed. But he was purposefully given wrong information, all because of some bureaucratic red tape, and everyone ended up dead.
Finally Nate and Sam. Nate had been my best friend from the time we both joined the Army and then moved to the Forces. We were damn happy we were placed on the same team, but by the last mission, things were strained. Nate was resentful of my position on the team, feeling like I had left him behind, that I was brown-nosing to move up the ranks. Nothing could have been further from the truth.
He also resented Sam because she had my attention. I always suspected he was jealous that Sam and I had so much chemistry, and he didn’t, but that’s just a guess. Still, Sam told me to ignore him, that he was being a dick before our last mission. In the end, it didn’t matter. All of them are gone, and I have to carry on alone.
Taking a final moment to reminisce, my gaze rests briefly on Sam’s image before Quinn’s face flashes into my mind. I shove the picture back under the pile of clothes and slam the drawer shut.
It doesn’t matter that Quinn and Sam have the same looks. Quinn isn’t someone I will ever have to see outside of a professional setting, and Sam is dead. The only time I can see her is in my memories and in photos. They are not the same woman, and I need to remember that.
I storm into the shower, determined to forget about Quinn, and let Sam fall back into the darkness until I’m ready to see her again.
NINE
MOLE
I think I have some time for a little fun.
They think they’re so clever, bringing in that bitch and her dogs. I smirk to myself as I stare down at the large duffle bag I just picked up. The same one I left with this morning, though no one was the wiser. Thank God I was able to put a bug in Bullet’s office, otherwise I would be fucked right now.
I have a few days to prepare, and I want to have a little fun with them. I need to figure out how to kill Izzy and grab Sage, but this will buy me some time.
They’re trying to snuff me out, but I’m not about to let that happen. I’m almost ready to make my move, and when I do, Bullet isn’t going to know what hit him.
Bull will be dancing in his grave. Then, I’ll take this club in the direction it should have been all along.
TEN
DMITRI
