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Scarlette’s lips pursed, and the telltale line appeared on her forehead, a sign she was ready to go to battle, and I decided to cut in before the claws came out. They were passionate women, so while they might not fight often, it could get ugly when they did. And I knew better than anyone how much deeper words could cut than any blade.
“Hate to break your heart, Scarlette, but dating is off the table. And it will be for the foreseeable future. When I do decide it’s the right time, it won’t be with a brother.” A McMillan brother or a Redemption brother.
Scarlette deflated, and I wanted to apologize for maybe hurting her feelings, but that would only encourage her to keep up this crusade. Neither of them knew what had happened between Redemption and me, and I decided years ago that it wasn’t their business.
No one needed to know about how I’d thrown myself at the guy I’d crushed on since I understood what it meant to have a crush. About how he’d kissed me back for a few perfect seconds. Then stomped on my heart and proceeded to make me second-guess every interaction I had with the brothers.
His hateful speech was confirmed when I came home from DC for the first time and not a single brother deigned to speak to me. And those words had stuck with me for a long time, far longer than I cared to admit.
The other brothers might be willing to tiptoe around your precious little feelings because they’re scared Prez will rip off their balls, but I’m not gonna do it. Sooner or later you’ll realize that we only put up with you because we don’t have a choice.
Fuck Colt “Reaper” McMillan and the motorcycle he rode in on. The Redemption brotherhood could go to hell for all I cared. I’d made my peace with the past, and I refused to go back there. Not even for Scarlette.
A chorus of laughs, deep and familiar, filtered into the house from the backyard and drew my attention to the french doors. Through the glass, I could see Uncle Wolf and High, and I could just make out Reaper’s dark brown messy bun in the chair across from them.
The last thing I wanted to deal with after a long day at the office was an altercation with Reaper. He’d made multiple attempts to corner me since I got back to Portland, and I’d managed to expertly evade whatever bullshit he wanted to spew. While I’d gotten past my fantasies of inflicting the kind of punishment only seen in the darkest recesses of Guantanamo Bay, that didn’t mean I wanted anything to do with him. Making my excuses to my aunt and Scarlette, I got up to leave.
ChapterSeven
REAPER
Mom’sexcessively loud squeal had everyone in the backyard peering into the living room to see what all the fuss was about.
Wolf got a soft half smile on his face, and that was all I needed to know who’d walked in. There was only one person who made him look like a leather-clad teddy bear.
When Peyton had first moved back, I’d thought it best to give her some space and let her settle while I waited for my opportunity. My hope was that she’d let bygones be bygones. Wishful thinking.
Two years went by, and it had become clear I would need a solid plan if I wanted to see progress. So I’d changed tactics and tried to get her alone, but it was like she had a homing beacon on me. She always managed to slip away any time I thought I was getting close.
Now I was on plan C—observe and gather intel. Learn everything there was to know about Peyton Linwood. Her coffee order, favorite food carts and pods, the days she went into work late, how often she went into Stumptown for coffee, her favorite ways to relax. And I hoarded every morsel of information like a dragon hoarding his treasure.
Then I’d sit at home and think about each thing. Memorize every morsel and puzzle out the girl I’d known and the woman I didn’t.
One thing was for sure, Peyton was dangerous. She and her group of friends had all appeared out of nowhere, but they brought with them skills I thought were only found in movies. And now they worked for Betty Lake, a woman known throughout the Pacific Northwest for making the impossible possible. I recognized the bond they all shared because it was what I had with my Redemption brothers.
I liked that for her. Everyone deserved that kind of bond in their lives.
“Yo, you paying attention?” Midas snapped his fingers in my face.
I sneered at him. “Get your fucking hands out of my face before I break them.”
Boomerang stared at his sister the way he always did when he thought no one was paying attention, with a look of pride mingled with pain. I couldn’t understand what went on in his head because he was always such a dick, acting like he couldn’t stand to be in the same room with her. The only time he’d shown that he gave a shit about her was when he found out I had a thing for her.
Reminded of that night ten years ago, I clenched my hands into fists. If Boomerang and Midas had minded their own fucking business, maybe there wouldn’t have been this distance between Peyton and me.
And maybe someday I’d stop blaming them and accept that the circumstances had been all wrong. She was too young, only a few days shy of eighteen. She’d needed time to find herself. And the man I was then—the asshole I was then—he wasn’t ready to be the man she needed. But I sure as fuck wasn’t going to thank them for being the reason I drove her away all those years ago, even if I would have screwed things up with her anyway.
“Fucking pay attention, Reaper,” Midas repeated. “We were talking about the revenue from the dispensary. It’s doubled over the last four months. And we got a license to start selling our strains out to dispensaries in other states.” He leaned back in his chair, smug as ever. Was the dispensary good for the club? Yeah, mostly because we made a ton of money from it. But I didn’t care about the behind-the-scenes stuff. Wasn’t my thing to wheel and deal like Midas and Boomerang. As head enforcer, I managed the safety of the transport and my brothers and let everyone else handle operations.
As subtly as I could, I angled my chair to give me a better view inside. It wasn’t much, but I could just make out the flash of dark reddish-brown hair beyond my dad’s head. I had to check myself, though. Nothing good would come of me throwing Peyton over my shoulder and demanding she listen to me. Or would it?
Dad was right. When a McMillan man met his match, there was no going back for them. I’d been the first of my blood brothers to fall.
I moved without thinking when she disappeared. Keeping my eyes and ears peeled for any sign of her, I hit the kitchen, throwing out the bottle of beer that had gone warm. The toilet flushed, and I knew exactly where Peyton had gone off to.
Lucky for me, the bathroom was off the kitchen. In a few steps, I was in front of the door, and when she opened it, I pushed my way in and closed the door behind us.
After ten years, two months, and a handful of days, Peyton was finally standing in front of me. I might have jumped the gun, locking her in the bathroom with me, but desperate times and all that.
