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I glance from the door to the frosted window behind Ryker’s head before I finally give them my attention.
Ryker sits opposite me, his brown hair swept back off his face. Viking takes the spot to his left, relaxing back in his seat as he looks at me out of the corner of his eye, while Gray smirks at me. I get the feeling he’s the mischievous one of this group, unlike the guy sitting across from him. He’s wearing shades so I can’t see his eyes, but tension radiates from him, just like it did last night, and I wonder if that’s a constant state he’s in.
“Take a seat, Scar,” Gray orders, pointing at the seat directly in front of me and I do just that.
“Scar?”
The question comes from the guy with the shades, his head tilting between Gray and me a few times before Gray finally responds. “Short for Scarlett. Ain't that right, sweet cheeks?”
I hum in response. I don’t know shit about these guys, so what they want from me can only relate back to one thing.
The Reapers.
As if sensing my thoughts, Ryker leans forward in his seat, pulling my gaze to his as he laces his fingers together on the table. “How long were you with the Reapers?”
“A while.”
“That’s vague.” Ryker raises his eyebrows at me, clearly wanting more, but I’m more than happy to drag this out as long as possible.
“Do you want specifics?”
Mr. Shades huffs, wagging his finger in my direction. “We wouldn’t be fucking asking if we didn’t,” he grunts, but I don’t flinch at their harsh tone. Not when I’m used to it.
Sighing, I lean back in my seat, clamping my hands between my thighs as I direct my answer to him. “Longer than I wanted to be. Is that better?”
He shakes his head in annoyance. A trip down memory lane isn’t something I’m prepared for today, and I really don’t know why that fucking matters.
“Do you know who I am?”
I turn to the guy asking the question and nod. “Ryker Holden.”
“Do you know what happened to my father at the hands of the Reapers?” he asks, his expression giving none of his feelings away, and I scoff.
Lifting my hands, I rest my elbows on the table as I lean forward, mirroring him. All four of them are watching every move I make, and I’m not going to let them see a hint of weakness in me.
“Do you really think that was the Reapers?” The twitch of Ryker’s brow gives him away instantly, and that’s a key sign for me to continue. “I’ve heard the stories, but nothing adds up in my opinion. I know what time they left the club, and I know they were speed demons on their bikes, but even by their standards, I don’t see them getting there in time. Minutes out, sure, but giving them the credit for killing your father? Nah, that seems far too unrealistic to me.”
None of them move, not even a single blink.
“What stories, Scar?” Gray asks.
I attempt to act indifferent, but I know that they fucking agree with me, I can feel it in my soul. “I just heard a few stories about that night from the members.”
“Like. What?” The sharp tone comes from Mr. Shades, his nostrils flaring as he slams his fist on the table, making it rattle, but not me. It takes everything I am to keep my shoulders lowered, but I know I need to offer them a slither of truth and stop talking to them in circles.
“I know that a deal was done, but a lot of talk was more around the reality of the other end holding up their part of the deal because the likelihood was weak.”
“Weak?” This comes from the Viking.
“Yeah, it was something along the lines of, ‘If they were willing to treat their own that way, they didn’t see them being treated any better, agreement or not.’”
“Fuck,” Gray curses, running his hand through his hair as he tilts his head back, but Mr. Shades scoffs.
“It’s all bullshit. We can’t trust shit an Ice Reaper says, even if it is one of their whores.” The bite in his tone washes straight over me. He doesn’t know me and what I’ve been through, but jibes like that don’t even penetrate the surface. Although, it does fucking piss me off, and I can’t stop myself from digging deeper.
“Is that what yesterday was about? Retaliation for your father?”
“Yesterday was about retribution for our club. For my father, Banner, and Billy who became one of our fallen men too,” Ryker grunts, lips pursed as he finds himself torn between agreeing with the asshole to his right and burying his hands into his hair like Gray.
