REAPER: GOLDEN SKULLS M.C. by Rebecca Joyce (elon musk reading list TXT) 📗

in blood, and the fucker still hadn’t said a damn word. Not even when I put his balls in clamps and squeezed until they turned purple. Nor when I sliced a skull into his chest or when I cut off one of his ears. The fucker was immovable.

“Okay, enough games. Grimm?”

The room got quiet when Grimm stood. Placing his phone gently down on the table, he stretched his arms over his head and yawned. Walking over to a wall cabinet, he opened it up and grabbed a wooden device. It looked like two wood pieces with long metal teeth between them, with a hand crank to open and close it.

“What the fuck is that!” the fucker shouted.

“That my soon-to-be-nubby friend is a knee splitter. Used frequently during the Spanish Inquisition, the knee splitter was naturally used to split knees open. Or in your case, rip it from your body,” Bullseye said, walking down the stairs, a file in his hand and blood on his shirt.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked, halting everyone. “You are supposed to be lying low.”

“Yeah, well, Savage can get the fuck over himself. I ain’t hiding anymore. You needed to see this. We got trouble coming,” he said, handing me a file. Opening it, I scanned the papers. Flipping through them, I stopped and growled. There before me was a picture of Remi, tied to a bed naked and beaten along with images of other girls of varying ages.

I was going to be sick. Closing the file, I took a deep breath and counted to ten before I spoke. “The kid?”

“Two of them. Handed them over to the local pigs. Chief Conners asked, and I gave him the same old nonsense. When you can, he said to stop by the station, or he can meet you at Patty’s Diner. Said to call when you have time.”

“Did you look into this?” I asked, holding up the file.

“Yeah. It’s legit.”

“Fuck!” I shouted, rounding on the fucker chained to the chair. “Who the fuck do you work for? I ain’t fucking around anymore.”

“And here I thought we were having tea.” The fucker smiled, and I lost it. Before anyone could stop me, I pulled my gun out of my cut and shot the fucker in the head.

“Reaper!”

“What the fuck, man!”

“Boss, he didn’t talk!”

“Reaper,” Bullseye said cautiously. “You need to calm down man. We will get this fucker. We will, but you need to keep a clear head. Where is Remi?”

When I didn’t answer, Player spoke, “She’s upstairs sleeping. Shamrock and Snake are guarding the door. What’s going on?”

Handing the file to Smoke, I said, “I sent Bullseye on a snatch and grab. He’s been back for a few weeks now, lying low. Apparently, the fucker he killed tonight was part of this ring. He had pictures of Remi and other girls. Smoke, maybe you can find something in here. Burn the pictures of Remi, send the rest to Reynolds. He can add them to the database.”

“On it,” Smoke nodded, then left the basement, running up the stairs.

“Look guys. This shit is getting too close to home. I want Remi guarded twenty-four seven. She is not allowed to leave the compound. If she wants something, you get it for her. She is mine. I claimed her tonight. When the time is right, I’ll put my patch on her, but until then, I need her protected.”

“Sure man.”

“We got it.”

“She ain’t going nowhere.”

“My princess will be safe, Reaper. Give you my word.”

“Sorry, I lost my shit, but after seeing that picture of her, I just couldn’t anymore. I’m calmer with her. I can’t explain it, but she centers me. She isn’t going anywhere, not as long as there is breath in my body. Got me?”

“Yeah,” everyone nodded.

“Until Chains and Savage return, we are shorthanded. I need all able body men to step up. This means I need all of you to get the rest of the boys in line. I can’t do this alone. No more fucking around. I want this clubhouse locked down—no one in our out. I want men at the gates, and I want the fence line activated. Everyone needs to be carrying. I don’t give a fuck if they have a record or not. Until the threat to Remi is taken care of, we are at war.”

Hellhound stepped forward and said, “You heard the Prez. Time to lock and load!”

ELEVEN

REMI

"I swear!” Shamrock grimaced as I laughed so hard my stomach hurt. Shamrock, Snake, and I were currently in the kitchen sitting at the table, eating breakfast while Shamrock was regaling me with a wild story from his younger years in San Francisco. I had woken up to an empty bed, and when I went to search for Max, I was told that I was basically grounded, unable, and forbidden from leaving the clubhouse. When asked why Shamrock told me it was for my own safety and that Reaper would explain later when he got out of church. So, instead of throwing a fit like I wanted to, I just accepted my current situation and went with it. That’s how I found myself at the kitchen table with Snake and Shamrock. “My momma took a willow switch to my ass. I still have the scars.”

“He’s right, Remi. I’ve seen them. It’s like his backside was stitched together.”

“But why did you do it?” I asked, wiping away my tears.

“Because I wanted to see if I could. I just watched this Bruce Lee movie, and he looked so cool. So, I thought I’d try it. Didn’t mean to cut my momma, but she moved. It was only a little nick.”

“She needed fifteen stitches, asshole.”

“Well, she shouldn’t have bought me the knife set.”

“She didn’t. You stole it from Marvin.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right.”

“And how old were you again?” I asked, taking a drink of my coffee.

“I was about ten, maybe eleven.”

“We’re you always a handful?”

“Yeah. Momma always said I was more trouble