Page 1 of Reaper's Rival

Chapter 1

Three Months Later

Abby

I leaned back in the booth, watching the high-class stripper’s dance on the poles. Most of our business meetings were done at the Red Flower. It didn’t even bother me anymore, seeing the half-naked women dancing.

It meant all the eyes were on them.

While I stayed in the booth, sipping on whiskey and dryly taking in the details Damon was telling me.

I was having one of those nights, my mind pulling me back into the past. Even though it was pointless. Even though it didn’t change a goddamn thing but make me be swallowed with regrets and faded hopes.

I still don’t know how I got here. I still don’t know how I somehow ended up here. Here. The fact I was in a strip club didn’t bother me. I wasn’t talking about that. I was talking about how the hell I went from painting to running a gang? To being a hit-woman? How did my life get so bloody complicated?

I knew instantly how I got here. I fell in love. I wanted to roll my eyes. A simple thing like falling in love had changed me to the core. I still couldn’t understand the person I was becoming. I was colder after every job. I was losing myself, and it wasn’t happening slowly.

Each job took a part of me, and all of a sudden, I wasn’t over thinking the next kill. I wasn’t worrying about the details. All I cared about was getting it done. I wasn’t the caring and loving girl I was. I was, well…I don’t think there was a word to sum me up anymore.

“Abby, you aren’t fucking listening to me.” Damon’s eyes narrowed, and he leaned over the small table. “How are we going to pull this off with you listening to only half the details?”

“I’m listening,” I fired back at him over the music.

“She’s in one of her moods, leave her be.” Kim reached for the bottle in the middle of the table and refilled her glass. “You know how she gets.”

How I get.

What the fuck did that mean?

Damon was Blake’s cousin. He wasn’t much of anything, but he sure as hell liked detail.

When I first met him, I was scared of him. It was only natural. He was built like a cage fighter. Strong thick arms and legs. His chest was broad and strong. He had taken many hits over the years, and it showed.

But it was his slightly dark brown hair and brown eyes that really took you in.

He wasn’t good looking.

He was fucking handsome and a ladies’ man; worse of it all, he knew how handsome he was.

It was something about his build that made women flock to him. As if he was their protector. But when it came down to it, Damon cared only for two things: money, and what money brought.

“I haven’t missed a word.” I put my empty glass down. “We’re taking back the stolen guns from the Chinese. You want us to move in when the money has been exchanged, and you want us to take the guns and the money. So really, you want us fucking ripping off the bikers and the Chinese?”

“What bikers are they?” Kim’s voice was coated with curiosity.

“Doesn’t matter. Your job is to go in guns blazing, get the cash and guns, and come out with only a few dead.” He poured himself a shot and swallowed quickly. “Not too much to ask of my girls, is it?”

His girls.

Ever since we joined, we became his girls.

We ran the show, and he organized the jobs. We were the face, and he was the silent partner that ‘kept us in line,’ as Blake said.

I still wasn’t sure what that line was.

“We’ll handle it.” I butted the cigarette out and rose. “Kim, I’m heading home. You ready?”

Her eyes were fixed on a man across from us. I sighed, knowing that she had other things on her mind.

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