and Axel will skin me alive. It won’t matter to them if I’m VP, president, or the fucking pope.
“So three presidents then,” I reluctantly agree, making Priest laugh.
“Don’t sound so excited, asshole,” he jokes.
I don’t answer him, I just take my seat next to his at the head of the table and wait while the rest of the members arrive.
Chapter Three
Reign
When the first gift arrived, I didn’t think much of it. I assumed the large bouquet I discovered on my front step had been delivered to the wrong address and as the card was blank, I shrugged it off and offered them to Betty, my ninety-year-old neighbor, to brighten her day.
The second gift arrived a week later in the form of a large expensive box of chocolates. Those I took as a peace offering to Owen for signing him up to a dating website without his knowledge.
Again, I brushed it off.
Living in a cul-de-sac with residents mostly over the age of seventy, I tried to help them out where I could by mowing their lawns, doing their shopping, and keeping their cars in working order. I refused to take any money from them, so most felt the need to say thank you with food, which was just as well, really, as I’m a lousy cook.
If it weren’t for Mrs. Neimans at number 86, I would likely have starved by now or spent all my money on take-out food.
It wasn’t until the third gift arrived, a skimpy white lace thong with matching bra, that I realized my mistake. My neighbors might give me flowers and chocolates as a thank you, but not lacy underwear.
Feeling skeeved out, I stomped to the end of the drive and dumped the package into the trash before storming inside and locking the door. I called Owen, who teased me about having a secret admirer until I pointed out that whoever it was, knew where I lived. Owen said he would look into it, so I put it to the back of mind. If Owen said he would sort it out for me, then he would.
But now, just a week later, staring at the letter in my shaking hand, I realize it hasn’t been sorted out at all. Far from it.
I scan the words again, just to make sure I didn’t read them wrong. After the eighth pass, it’s abundantly clear that my harmless admirer might not be so harmless after all.
Sinners never know they are unworthy until His light touches them.
I am His voice;
His Prophet.
You are a selfish harlot, a temptress,
Ungrateful and sullied.
But our God has forgiven you
As He once did me.
You will be tested.
But the most devout will be reborn; then, and only then, will you be a worthy vessel.
I drop the note to the table and pick up my phone, dialing Owen. When he doesn’t answer, I hang up and call Travis, who picks up after just two rings.
“If you are calling so I can grab you a milkshake, I will key that pretty little car of yours,” my brother answers, clearly forgetting for a moment that he’s a cop.
I had restored a 1972 Ford GTO from scratch. It was metallic purple with a white racing stripe and, quite frankly, it’s my pride and joy. So when I don’t react, Travis can tell straight away that something is wrong.
“What’s going on, Reign?” he questions, all business now.
“Did Owen tell you about the gifts I’ve been receiving?” I ask him quietly.
“He mentioned them, yeah, but he said he would take care of it. Why, did you get another one?”
“No, this time I got a letter.” I read it to him over the phone and wait silently while he curses.
“I’ll be there in ten.” He hangs up before I can say anything else.
I sit stiffly on my chair and don’t move from my spot at the kitchen table. I stare at the words on the note until they blur, willing them to change, but they don’t. When Travis tears into the kitchen ten minutes later as he promised, I feel like I’m hanging on by a thread.
Looking up at him, I feel my bottom lip wobble. He curses and yanks me from the chair, wrapping his arms around me tightly, offering me the comfort I’m so desperately craving to ward off the unexpected chill I’ve felt since discovering the letter.
The sound of a cough has us pulling apart and me looking around Travis’s large frame when I realize he isn’t alone.
Motherfucker.
Garrett is standing in the doorway