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“She is.” My voice cracks, but I have to believe it. Idobelieve it. But then my fears force themselves out of my mouth anyway, my fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt and holding on tight. “Are you sure? How do you know?”
The ever-present ice in Logan’s pale eyes thaws, just a bit, and his mouth softens in what I’m almost sure is his version of a smile. “I’m sure because she’s your sister.”
Then he gently pulls my hand off him and side steps around me, striding off toward Chester’s again as if that’s all he needs to say to prove his point. As if, when it comes to protecting Chloe, he actually thinks Iamenough.
As if Logan believes in me too.
30
RILEY
The kid workingthe counter at Chester’s remembers Chloe coming in. It’s not a lot, but it’s something that proves Logan was right about her being alive. It also proves that my instincts about where to look for her are spot on. Neither of those things point us in a new direction, but I’m still filled with a cautious feeling of hope as we arrive back at the Reaper house.
I dial back the hope, keeping only the caution, when I see that the driveway is full of unfamiliar cars.
“What’s going on?” I ask Logan, relaxing a little when I see that he is. Whoever’s here, they’re not anyone he’s concerned about.
“Reaper meeting,” he answers me in his usual cryptic style as I follow him inside.
“Oh. Okay.”
I half expect to find the house bursting at the seams, but there are only about a dozen unfamiliar people there when we walk in. Still, that’s a dozen more than probably want me to listen in on their business, so when Logan heads toward the living room where they’re all assembled, I veer off toward the stairs, figuring I’ll hole up in my room until they’re done talking.
Dante steps out of the kitchen just as I walk past and stops me.
“Where are you headed, princess?” he whispers, his lips brushing against the side of my neck and his hand landing on the small of my back.
He doesn’t give me a chance to answer as he steers me ahead of him into the living room, right into the thick of things, and then pulls me down on the couch to sit beside him. I stiffen, but no one tells me to leave even though, clearly, it’s not my place to be here.
Dante sprawls out like he doesn’t have a care in the world, manspreading with one arm thrown across the back of the couch while his other hand rests heavily on my thigh, like he’s trying to keep me in place for some reason. When Logan takes a seat on my other side, I get the distinct impression that they want me to stay. I’m not surewhythey’d want me here, but I relax a little, deciding not to fight it.
If I’m being honest, I might even kind of like it, even if I don’t really understand why they’re including me.
Maddoc’s eyes land on me with no expression, but when he calls the meeting to order, he doesn’t comment on my presence. It quickly becomes clear that everyone in the room—everyone but me, obviously—is a high-ranking member of the organization. Maddoc seems to have called them all in to discuss the shit that’s been happening recently, although from the grim expressions on everyone’s faces, I suspect he wants to reassure them that he’s still got it under control as much as make sure they’re up to speed.
“You heard about our meeting with The Six?” he asks, looking around the room.
“West Point’s talking shit about it all over the warehouse district,” a bearded man missing part of an ear says. “You want us to put a stop to that, boss?”
“If it’s just talk, no one engages with West Point,” Maddoc says firmly. “Is that understood?”
Everyone nods, even though not all of them look happy about it.
“We’re not going to let McKenna goad us into fighting on his terms, especially not with The Six already taking notice. I want each of you to make sure everyone who reports to you stays alert right now. If shit goes beyond just talking, then no one responds alone. You need to make sure every single person in our organization knows they don’t engage without backup.”
“Troy isn’t happening again,” someone murmurs.
Maddoc’s jaw starts to tic. “Damn right. And wewillget vengeance for that, and for Payton, but right now, nothing happens unless West Point initiates. Is that clear?”
Another round of nods and sounds of assent, but the bearded guy with the chunk out of his ear crosses his arms and gives Maddoc a challenging look. “But if they do start something more than just talk, we get to take them out, yeah?”
Maddoc stares him down until he blinks. “The Six pointed out that what went down with Payton and Luis drew too much attention from the cops. They’re right. That can’t happen again. Not like that.”
“But—”
Maddoc raises his voice as he talks over the guy’s protest. “I’m tasking each of you with the job of making sure every Reaper knows they’re to avoid violence and stand down if at all possible. But if West Point initiates, if our people need to defend themselves, then yeah, Vic. We go for blood. There’s no fucking middle ground right now. We’re not ready to take the fight to them, but if they bring it to us, we fucking end it.”
Vic stands down, looking satisfied, but a couple of the other Reapers shuffle restlessly, brows furrowing.
