Page 68 of Silver Fox Daddies

Bishop: None so far.

Diesel: Don’t worry, baby, we can take care of ourselves. Focus on your studies and your job at the library. We’ll see you soon.

Me: You’ll come to the city?

Cash: Yeah. Text us when you’re free and we’ll arrange it.

Me: OK.

I switch off my phone and press it to my chest, sighing with relief. It’s not been the best day, but at least one good thing has come out of this—the bikers still want to keep in contact.

I shower and change, slipping under the covers, sleep pressing heavily on my eyelids. In the darkness, I see Diesel snap their necks, the blood threading across the floor. It makes me feel at ease. Doesn’t terrify me anymore. They can protect themselves—Diesel is right.

It makes me proud that they’re on my side, for some reason. Diesel killed for me.

When I think about my father, the sleep recedes from my eyes. He suspects something is wrong. Maybe he doesn’t know why I’m acting out yet, but as leader of Reaper Sons, he will—it’s only a matter of time until he finds out.

It only gives me more reason to keep away from the Venom Vultures clubhouse. If Daddy sees me there, notices me hanging around with Cash, Diesel, and Bishop, he’ll shoot them personally for laying their hands on me.

It’s so clear now why he kept his job from me. He doesn’t want me descending down into trouble. He wants to keep me busy and on the right side of the law. Maybe he kept me in the shadows out of the kindness of his heart, not wanting me to get hurt, but I fear it’s for a different reason.

I think he never wanted me to discover the truth—that he’s evil in its truest form.

After tossing and turning several times, I flick on the light and shoot out of bed. A sharp pang of guilt cuts through me. The bikers don’t know the truth. They don’t know that I’m related to a potential psychopath.

I hope I’m wrong, but the signs are all there—Daddy wants them dead just because he aims to take over their territory. That sort of behavior isn’t normal, even for some of the bikers at Venom Vultures who have an interesting set of morals.

I barge out of the dorm and into the shared kitchen area to pour myself a glass of water, downing it in seconds. After washing it out, I pad barefoot back to my dorm.

Something crinkles underfoot.

I frown, looking down to see a piece of A4 paper crunching under my sole.

That wasn’t there before; I’m sure of it. I’d have noticed it right in front of the door.

I squat and pick it up, not taking much notice—a revision paper probably just slipped out of somebody’s folder as they were walking by.

At 11:50 at night…

My hands flex into fists when I see theReaper Sonsname in the top corner.

I look over my shoulder, but there’s nobody in the corridor.

Clutching the document harder, I slip back into my dorm room and land on my bed, flattening out the crumpled paper. Everything has been handwritten, the letters all in capitals.

I think nothing of it until I make my way further down the page.

2011. VENOM VULTURES’ SERGEANT AT ARMS MURDERS OUR PREZ’S INNOCENT WIFE. HER NAME WAS LORETTA STRONGBOW. SHE AND JAX WERE MARRIED FOR SIX YEARS. THE VENOM VULTURES MEMBER GOES BY THE NAME DIESEL.

The four walls of the dorm room close in, my breath thinning out.Diesel? Hekilled Mom? I shoot up from my bed, hyperventilating, pacing the room, trying to get my brain to catch up. It can’t be.

The document lists all the kills Reaper Sons has had over the years. There have been lots, some from Venom Vultures, others from other criminal organizations like Italian and Russian mafia groups that are involved in their own underground endeavors.

I try and digest all of it, but it’s a struggle. So much crime takes place in Vegas. So much sin. Of course, that’s why the place isknown as Sin City, but I always thought that the sins were more surface level. Less severe, not involving so much loss of life.

I reread the text. Diesel killed Mom? I shake my head, a tear slipping from my eye. It’s impossible, he couldn’t have…

Except, he probably did. I saw the brutal way he snapped those men’s necks with no remorse, moving on like it meant nothing. Their president wouldn’t make him sergeant at arms if he was too emotional of a killer. There’s a coldness to Diesel.

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