Murder & Mayhem: Black Creek 2 by R.A. Smyth

Author:R.A. Smyth [Smyth, R.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-05-31T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 16

I have a Reaper job the next day, so I’m up and out early, and it takes most of the day to check everything in place. It’s early evening before I’m changed and back at the clubhouse. Standing outside, I stare at the building while chewing on my lower lip. I need to walk in there and do something I absolutely suck at doing—ask for help.

Not only that, but I haven’t spoken to Cain since last night, so god only knows how this will go. However, I have no other choice—everything else is in place and I’d be foolish to try and do this job alone, especially when there’s an entire clubhouse of burly men who could easily back me up.

With one final deep sigh, I head inside. I’ve just crossed the threshold when I come to a stop, finding Cain and Oliver standing just inside the doorway. They both turn to look at me the second I enter, and my mouth goes bone dry under their combined gazes.

Both of them take in my revealing outfit choice for tonight, but it’s Cain—of course—who barks out, “What are you doing here… dressed like that?”

“I, uh, need your help with a job.”

“Really? The almighty Reaper needs our help?” he drawls sarcastically. “My, my. What is the world coming to?”

I purse my lips. Fuck me, nope, this was a stupid decision. Why the fuck did I ever think I needed their help. “You know what, forget about it,” I bite out. “I can handle it myself.”

“Nope.” Oliver reaches out to grab my wrist before I can storm off. “What do you need?”

I give him a long, suffering stare before sighing. “The job I’m working involves three guys. I figured it would just be easier if I had some backup. I can take Jon or one of the other kids, if you can spare them.”

“No, we’ll come with you,” Cain dictates, surprising me. Based on the tone he just used with me, I thought we were back to the bickering, hostile phase of our relationship, but maybe not? Who the fuck knows. The guy is a confusing fucking paradox. One second he looks like he wants to tear my head off, yelling in my face or making fun of me, and the next, he appears ready to go to fucking war for me—like he does right now. It’s giving me whiplash. “Just give us a sec to get geared up.”

I follow them toward the back of the building and hover in the doorway to the office as Oliver takes off down the hall toward his bedroom, and Cain moves behind his desk, pulling out a gun and checking the chamber before tucking it into the waistband of his pants. Another goes into an ankle strap and a third into a shoulder holster that he hides beneath a leather jacket.

When he turns to face me, standing at his full height, he’s the formidable leader of the Rejects, armed to the teeth and wearing this icily terrifying expression.

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