Skirt (Ruthless Kings MC #5) - K.L. Savage Page 0,51
and I will get it for you.” Maximo checks his watch and then his phone. “I need to leave, gentlemen. Reaper, I will see you tonight.”
“Sure thing. Thanks again,” Reaper holds out his hand, and Maximo doesn’t hesitate to shake it. Maximo might be a shady guy, but I can’t say he isn’t honest. So far, he has been nothing but genuine. People can’t be that nice. He has to have another angle in all this.
“Any information I come across, I’ll let you know.” Maximo leaves, and his goons push off the wall to follow him.
Everyone lets out a breath when they hear the front door slam.
“That man freaks me out.”
“I know that’s right, brother.” Poodle holds up his fist, and Slingshot taps his knuckles.
“Anything else that needs to be addressed now?” Reaper asks, eyeing every brother around the table.
“I’ll keep an eye out at Kings’ Club. If anything seems off, I’ll be sure to let you know,” Tool says. Kings’ Club has been very profitable for the MC. It’s where most of our legal profits come from; that and the garage, which Braveheart has taken over since Tool now spends most of his time at the club.
“Good, man. Okay, dismissed.” Reaper hits the gavel on the table, and my brothers file out. “Skirt, I want to talk to you for a second.”
Fuck.
“Good luck.” Tongue gives me a smug, crooked tilt of his lips as he shuts the door behind him. Crazy bastard. I swear, he wishes pain on everyone around him.
Reaper and I stare at one another. It’s quiet. My heart races and makes blood rush in my ears. My cheeks heat. He fucking knows, and he’s waiting for me to say it. I swallow my fear and pick up the duffle bag, tossing it on the wooden table that has the Ruthless Kings logo in the middle of it. Reaper cocks a brow at me and laces his fingers in front of his face, creating a steeple with his index fingers as he presses them against his nose.
“That supposed to mean something to me?” he asks.
“Aye.”
“Open it.”
I walk around the table and lean over, gripping the zipper between my fingers and pull it down. Stacks of money are piled high. There has to be close to eighty-thousand there. “I fought for Maximo last night.”
Reaper gives me a quick, sparing look before he pulls a pack of cigarettes from his cut pocket. He places a smoke between his mouth and lights it, as always. He’s smoking more and more these days. It’s only a matter of time before Sarah finds out. He leans back in the chair, throws his boots on the table, and blows out the smoke through his nostrils.
I rub my hand over my face. This is torture. “I’ll accept any punishment for not telling ye and going behind yer back.” I yank off my shirt and kneel, preparing for his blade to slice through my skin.
His boots pound on the floor and the chair rolls back as he stands. The smell of smoke comes closer, and his hand takes hold of my ear and yanks. “Get the hell up, and put your shirt on. I know you fought last night. Who do you think called Maximo and told him?”
I grab my shirt and yank it over my head. “What do ye mean? How?”
“Maximo and I are in on the fighting ring together. I miss getting my hands dirty. We both want the same thing—money—but we want the fights to be fair, nothing fishy. When he said he needed a fighter, I offered you, and I knew you’d take it. You’re just like Tongue needing to cut and Poodle needing to kill; you have to fight, and I knew you wouldn’t turn Maximo down. When I found out about Cohen, I knew fighting would be a way to draw him in. You’re his damn bait.”
“Ye used me?”
“Yep. Don’t you feel dirty?”
“Little bit” I scratch my head, confused.
“Get over it. We would have problems if you didn’t end up telling me, but I knew you would. You don’t let pride get in your way.”
“Have you considered that I could lose a fight?”
Reaper bores his eyes into mine, and he snags me by the cut. “No, and you better not lose because that’s the only way you’re going to get in that cage with Cohen. Regardless of the piece of shit human being he is, he’s one of the best fighters in the world. We need that kid back.