Queen of The Reapers by Jessa Halliwell

Ten

Silence fillsthe drive down through the city, but for once, it isn’t an uncomfortable one. Tristan is too busy trying not to kill me for putting this whole thing into action, while Stevie isn’t doing much of anything besides staring at the road ahead. She seems determined to get her sister, now more than ever. I just hope we aren’t setting her up for another fucking disappointment.

We reach the business district, and Stevie’s undeterred gaze on the road finally wanes. Her eyes flick up to the luxurious high rises surrounding us and she stares at them with a mixture of wonder and amusement in her eyes. She says nothing, but she doesn’t need to. Her face says it all. She loves our city.

It’s hard to picture Stevie’s life before us. Living on the other side of town in a shitty two-story with an abusive meth-head stepfather. She’s been out of that environment for weeks, but she still hasn’t really gotten to see much outside of the walls of our home. It’s the first time she’s seeing Caspian Hills in all its glory and it’s bittersweet to know that we’re the ones who robbed her of seeing it for so long.

The air in Caspian Hills is cleaner, the roads are smoother, and the sidewalks are free of the trash and needles we all grew up around. It’s everything Caspian Valley isn’t, which is why my brothers and I set out to own this city so many years ago. It’s clear that Stevie, too, has fallen under its spell.

Stevie rolls down her window and sticks her head out and smiles into the breeze. The action is charming as hell and as I stare at her through my own rolled-down window; I realize it's the first time I’ve ever seen her without a guarded expression on her face. She’s fucking beautiful, so beautiful that I sit back and soak that shit up like it’s the last time I’ll ever see it.

Who knows, if shit goes south tonight, it just might be.

I fight the urge to smile as her long dark wavy locks reach into my window and whip against the skin on my face. The sensation feels familiar, but before I can fully place it, I’m taken back to a bitter memory. One I thought I buried a long time ago.

“Nervous?” I ask, squeezing her closer to my body.

Instead of answering, she stares up the driveway and visibly scowls. Her soft features distort into a grimace and a need to protect her fills my chest. All I want to do is throw her back on my Ducati and get her as far away from here as possible, but that would completely defeat the purpose. Besides, we’ve put this off for long enough.

The autumn wind stirs up again, carrying her emerald green dress with it. Her long brown tendrils gently whip across my face, enveloping me in a strawberry-scented cloud that makes my mouth water. Fuck, this girl, this fucking strawberry scented mythical being doesn’t even realize how tightly she has me wrapped around her finger. How I’d do anything to make her happy.

“Let’s get you inside, yeah?” I offer, rubbing her soft, bare shoulder.

“They’re all in there?” She asks, glaring at the mansion in the distance.

“Well, since they all live here too, I’m going to assume yes.” I say, gently turning her around to face me. “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

She gives me a blank stare as her mouth opens and shuts, almost as if she’s fighting the urge to speak.

“Nothing.” She finally says, pressing her lips firmly together. “Just ready to get this over with.”

She pulls out of my hold and sets off for the house on her own. It only takes a few long strides to catch up with her, and when I do, the icy glare she throws at me is almost enough to give me pause.

She isn’t acting like herself. She hasn’t been since we got here. But I know she’s nervous, and mostly, I get it. There’s a lot riding on this for both of us.

In the three short weeks I’ve known her, Hannah St. Clair has proven herself to be the most amazing girl I’ve ever met. Not only is she fucking stunning, but she’s patient and kind. The calming ying to my bat-shit yang. As much as I didn’t want to, I’ve fallen in love with her and it’s about damn time I brought her home.

As soon as we enter the house, she stops in her tracks and pulls out her cellphone. She scrolls through her social media and shoots off a few lengthy text messages before she looks up at me again. She rolls her eyes at me and an involuntary flash of irritation crosses my face.

“What?” She snaps, noticing my scowl.

“Just expected you to be more present.”

She’s the first girl I’ve brought home. The first stranger any of us have allowed into our house. She knows how important this is to me. To us.

“I’m here aren’t I?” She scoffs, crossing her arms across her chest as she cocks a brow at me. “You’re the one that insisted I meet everyone before staying over. Excuse me if I’m not super excited to be interrogated by your psycho brothers.”

Before I can respond, I hear footsteps approaching and decide to keep my mouth shut. She’s nervous. This isn’t like her.

My brothers appear in front of us within seconds, and by the stony look on each of their faces, I can tell they heard every word.

Trying to make the best of the awkward situation, I push her forward a little and break the uncomfortable silence.

“Everyone, this is Hannah.” I say, offering them a shit-eating grin. “Hannah, this is everyone.”

“Nice to meet you.” She sneers, flashing them a mocking smile. “Is there a restroom I could use?”

“Of course.” Atlas says, gesturing towards the staircase. “Upstairs. Third door on your right.”

Hannah scurries away, and I’m faced with offering my brothers some kind of explanation for her shit attitude.

“She’s nervous.” I say, brushing a hand through my hair. “Give her a second to warm up and you’ll understand why I brought her here.”

I can tell none of them are buying the excuse, but they seem to let it slide. We make our way to the sectional positioned in front of the huge flat screen T.V. Tristan set up. The servers set out a lavish charcuterie board on the oversized walnut coffee table and the four of us decide to dig in while we wait for Hannah to come back.

“I have to say.” Atlas says, clapping me on the back. “I never thought I’d see the day that you’d settle down, little brother.”

I finish chewing my brie topped slice of baguette and grin.

“What can I say?” I say, shrugging my shoulders. “She’s made me a changed man.”

“Happy for you, bro.” Tristan says, giving me a rare smile. “I’m just glad s… she let you out. Feels like we haven’t s… seen you in weeks.”

“Yeah, we’ve been a little busy-”

“What did you say her name was?” Ezra asks, cutting me off with an abrupt question. His brow furrows as if he’s trying to search his mind for some long-lost memory.

“Hannah.” I deadpan, cocking my head. “Why?”

“Where did you meet this girl again?” He asks, cocking a brow.

“Hell’s Tavern... again, why?”

“So this beautiful stranger just strolls into our club and she has no idea who you are? You didn’t find that at all strange?”

“What? No. I didn’t. She just learned about everything last night.”

Ezra gives Tristan a look and I can see the cogs turning in my twin’s head. He whips out his cellphone and starts typing while I feel like the walls are closing in on me.

“What’s with the fucking fifth degree?” I ask, confused by the sudden turn of events.

“I know that girl, Cy.” Ezra says, nervously flicking his zippo open and shut. “I’ve ‘seen’ her before.”

The way he emphasizes the word ‘seen’ is like a punch to the gut. By ‘seen’ he means fucked. Ezra fucked Hannah.

“That’s impossible.” I say, shaking my head so hard my vision blurs. “She isn’t from here.”

“Not here,” he says, pausing as if he’s debating whether he should reveal more, “at The Devil's Disciples’ clubhouse in L.A.”

The room feels suffocating and I shoot up from my seat to try to get more air into my lungs.

“She’s a Haven girl?” Atlas asks, his features morphed in disbelief. His eyes flash back and forth between the two of us, almost as if he can’t believe what's happening.

By Haven girl, he means the sex workers The Devil's Disciples hand-select to live beneath their clubhouse. Against Oleg and pretty much everyone at The Organization’s wishes, The Devil’s Disciples have been covertly dabbling in sex trafficking. It’s all hearsay, but in a club under Dimitri Evanoff’s leadership, I wouldn’t expect anything less.

“No.” I say, refusing to believe anything he’s saying. “No fucking way. She’s living at the fucking Ritz Carlton. How do you explain that?”

“You need to ask her s… some questions.” Tristan says, clicking on the flat screen and switching to the security camera’s live feed. “S… starting with, what the fuck she’s doing in Atlas’ study?”

After discovering the truth about Hannah, my brothers left me alone to deal with her. Instead of trying to catch her in the act, I decide to wait and see what she does next. There’s nothing in Atlas’ study that would be of any use to anyone anyway, and as I watch her take more pictures and send more texts, my anger only grows. How the hell could I have been so stupid? She was never my dream girl. She was just an intricate lie, constructed to hit me where it hurt.

I hear her delicate footsteps descending the stairs and I quickly shut-off the footage. I’ve seen more than enough.

“Where is everyone?” She asks, assessing the empty living room with a frown.

Rage licks across my skin, and it takes everything in me to stop myself from screaming at her. Like she gives a shit. I wanted to draw it out and lead her to a confession, but fuck it. Let’s cut right to the chase.

“Who hired you?” I snarl, glaring at her through narrowed eyes.

“What?” She responds, blinking rapidly. “I don’t have a job yet. I’m still getting settled in…”

I smirk and release a callous laugh. She wants to keep up the charade, huh? Well, fuck that. I’m in control now and she’s about to see the side of me I always kept hidden from her. The part of me that helped solidify my reputation as one of the most ruthless assholes in this entire city. The Reaper is surfacing, and he’s hungry for blood.

“Enough!” I demand, cutting her off. “You know what the fuck I’m talking about. Who. Hired. You.”

Her eyes dart around the room like she’s looking for a savior. Someone to come save her ass in the knick of time. Unfortunately for her, the only man that would’ve come to her rescue is me, and I have no intention of letting her deceitful ass go.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She says, slowly inching back towards the foyer.

She reeks of desperation and I smile to myself as her well thought-out facade falters. Sticky sweat coats her forehead and a vicious sneer overtakes her once beautiful face. I see her now, truly see her, and she’s nowhere near as strong as I thought. Her fidgety hand reaches for her purse and I can’t help but bark out another laugh at her pathetic attempt to call for help.

“Make another move and I’ll kill you.” I say, removing my gun from the hostler on my hip.

A tremor overtakes her body and I flash her a shit-eating grin as I level my gun at her chest.

“Y-you wouldn’t.” She says, shaking her head in denial. “You love me. ”

“No. I thought I loved you.” I say bitterly. “Big fucking difference. Now tell me; who hired you?”

I cock my gun to prove my point. I don’t need her answer. By now, Tristan has hacked into her cellphone and traced the numbers back to whichever asshole fucked with us. But something deranged inside of me wants to hear it come from her deceitful lips. I have my suspicions given our not-so-pleasant history with Dimitri, but we have to be sure before we make a move. The organization doesn’t take intergang conflict lightly.

“He loves me.” She screams. “If you harm a single hair on my fucking head, he’ll kill you!”

The next few seconds happen so fast, my mind has a hard time keeping up.

Hannah lunges for my gun and, in the shock of our tousle, she manages to wrestle it out of my hold. I underestimated her. Just as I had during our entire relationship, and the irony of it all is a bitch.

I wasn’t planning on spilling Hannah’s blood tonight. I just wanted to hear the truth come from her fucking lips. I knew she was merely a puppet in the grand scheme of things, and the only one I really wanted to hurt was the master pulling her strings.

“You’re so fucking pathetic.” She says, barking out a wicked laugh as she levels my own gun on me. “Nothing like him.”

Her once melodic laugh sounds putrid and wrong. It grinds against my bones and makes me grit my teeth as she continues to cackle.

“That may be.” I admit, visibly swallowing. “But at least I’ll die knowing the truth. Unlike you.”

I’m baiting her, partly to prolong the inevitable and partly because she deserves to know the truth. There’s no way I’m escaping death either way. We’re standing too close to each other and my brothers are too far out of earshot to stop her. I signed my own death certificate the second I let her grab my gun.

Strangely, I’ve made my peace with my death. I made a mistake, and I trusted the wrong person. I put my brothers at risk and brought a spy into our home. Dying tonight will be my penance for that.

I level my eyes on Hannah and solemnly shake my head. She has no idea how fucked she truly is. The sad thing is, there’s still a part of me that wants to protect her. That wants to shield her from pain at any cost. But that’s not fair and goddamnit she deserves to know the truth.

“You’re a pawn, Hannah.” I say, willing her to hear the sincerity in my voice. “A means to hurt me and my brothers. Nothing more.”

“That’s not true.” She says, her voice wavering slightly. “Mitri loves me.”

Damn. The fucking bastard. Dimitri is using her own con against her and she doesn’t even realize it. Yet even I can tell that her words have no real conviction behind them and it’s clear she’s trying to convince the both of us of their sincerity.

“Did he tell you we have security cameras?” I ask, nodding my head at the one pointed down on us.

She says nothing in response, but her frigid glare answers for her. He didn’t.

“They’re in every room in this house.” I say, rotating in a slow circle. “Tell me, would someone who loves you send you straight into a trap?”

She narrows her eyes at me and blows her tousled brown hair out of her face.

“It wasn’t a trap.” She hisses, jerking the gun at me. “He sent me to gather intel. To take as many images as I could of Atlas’ study.”

I shake my head with a sad smile and can’t help but feel sorry for her. I know what it’s like to convince yourself that you’re loved. I’ve been doing it my whole life.

“Dimitri knows there’s nothing in there.” I say, locking eyes with her. “He’s been in our house countless times. Been left alone in that study on several occasions, and he’s never once cared to look through our shit. Do you know why?”

She shakes her head no.

“Because he knows it would be suicide, love.”

The ‘love’ part slips out, but somehow it still feels right coming out of my mouth. I loved Hannah. I know that with every fiber of my being. But she never loved me and that’s the cold, harsh reality of Dimitri’s wicked game.

Even as she shakily levels a loaded .45 at me, all I can feel is remorse for what’s going to happen to her. Hannah will die tonight, one way or another. If my brothers don’t kill her for killing me, Dimitri surely will. She served her purpose and he won’t hesitate to dim the light in her beautiful blue eyes to clean up any evidence of his part in this whole mess. He’ll win, and she and I will pay the ultimate price.

“Dimitri loves me…” She says weakly as tears trickle down her cheeks.

“I know, love. I know…”

I can’t help but offer her comfort. Even though it’s wrong. Even though she’s the one who betrayed me. Even though she’s going to kill me.

“He’s going to kill me, isn’t he?” She asks, looking up at me with so much clarity in her deep blue eyes that it crushes me.

“I’m sorry, Hannah.”

“My name is Sarah.” She says, blinking back tears with a sad smile. “Sarah Wilson, and for the record, I’m sorry too, Cyrus.”

BANG.

I flinch my eyes shut the second the gunshot rings out and leap to the ground, but I know I’m too slow. Within seconds, I feel a warm, sticky substance pool around me, but I don’t dare try to move. The coppery scent of blood stings my nose and I can’t hear anything but the ringing in my ears. My body… Well, it’s as if my body feels no pain at all.

Is this what death feels like?

It takes thirty long seconds for my brothers to find me. I count the seconds as I wait for death to come. Hannah is probably halfway to my Ducati by now. Probably shouldn’t have given her a spare key, but hindsight is 20/20.

I feel their hands on me before I hear them enter the room. My ears are ringing and I have no idea what they’re saying as they lift me up from the ground and begin trying to assess my wound. I’m surprised I can feel them, given my body's state, but I’m happy I get to see them one last time.

My brothers. My best friends. The only bastards in this entire world that understood me more than I understood myself. They’ll survive without me, but I’ll miss them like hell.

“Is he hit?” I hear Atlas ask, his voice booming through the ringing. “Is he fucking hit?”

I want to tell him I am; I have to be. She was the one with the gun. But I don’t want to waste another second of my time talking. I just want to remember them.

“I d… don’t know!” Tristan screams, as he frantically pulls at my blood-soaked clothes. Ezra pulls his pocket knife out and helps him cut the fabric loose, looking as unhinged as Atlas sounds.

Fuck.

If I knew I was going to die, I would’ve spent more time with them instead of chasing a girl I barely knew. Why is it only now that I realize just how important family is to me? When I’m on my fucking deathbed.

I glance to my left and search for Hannah, even though I know she’s not there. I feel like a masochist, but I can’t help but want to seek her out before I die. I loved her and even though she was the one who did this, in these last few moments of my life, I want to pretend like everything we had wasn’t a lie. That she loved me and that she wasn’t just a pawn in Dimitri’s sick little game.

As I suspected, she’s nowhere in sight. I’m sure she thought running was her best option, and I’m not sure I could’ve convinced her otherwise.

Dimitri is notorious for taking pleasure in tying up loose ends and, unfortunately for her, she is now one of them. Poor naive girl. My brothers would’ve at least had the decency to make her death quick. Dimitri will chase her, torture her for the fun of it, and relish in every second of her pain. He may look like Oleg’s golden child, but he’s a wolf in sheep's clothing, always has been, always will be.

My head falls down and I notice a flash of emerald green in my peripheral vision.

Hannah?

Jerking my head up, I blink my eyes rapidly, just to make sure I’m not hallucinating.

Hannah is lying in a pool of blood with her delicate fingers still wrapped around my gun, but her blue eyes are lifeless.

FUCK.

“Put me down.” I mumble as icy numbness takes over my whole body. This can’t be happening. It was supposed to be me. It was supposed to fucking be me!

All three of my brothers freeze and scowl down at me. Their faces express a kaleidoscope of emotions as they wait for me to clarify.

“I said put me the fuck down!” I yell, shoving their hands off of me.

I fall to the ground and crawl to Hannah’s side. A wave of emotions batter against me as I stare at her lifeless body.

She betrayed me.

Gained my trust only to steal our power.

I should hate her with every fiber of my being. But I can’t. I still love her and the pain of losing her is ripping me apart.

She was right. I wouldn’t have pulled the trigger. I couldn’t live with myself if I killed her. But she killed herself, and somehow that hurts more.

“Cy, you’ve been shot.” Atlas cautiously points out. “We need to get you medical attention.”

“It’s not my fucking blood…” I say bitterly, rubbing tears away with the back of my hand. “It’s hers.”

All three of them go pale. They don't know what to say and I don’t blame them. She was our enemy, but she was also so much more to me.

“Please, just get the fuck out of here, okay?” I ask, my voice cracking with emotion as I brush her blood-caked hair away from her face. “She may not have loved me, but I loved her and that’s all that fucking matters.”

“Cyrus.”

“Cyrus.”Stevie calls out again, her concerned brown eyes pulling me out of my reverie. “How long ago did the clerk see Alex go in?”

Shit. The only way to get Stevie’s buy in was to make it more believable by embellishing the truth. Looks like I’ll be digging that grave of betrayal even deeper.

“Less than an hour ago.” I lie, keeping my face blank.

“That’s good.” She says, biting into her lower lip. “That means she’ll definitely be there still.”

She folds and unfolds her anxious fingers in her lap as her soulful brown eyes study the road ahead. Thick dense fog coats the hills, but the hazy moon peeks through breaks in the mist, streaking pale blue light across her face. She’s beautiful, no doubt. But her resilience sets her apart.

The bullshit with Dimitri was a necessary evil, but I won't let him come between us again. Knowing him, he probably underestimates our girl. Hell, once upon a time, we all did. But if he thinks he can fuck with her to get to us, his own inflated ego will be his demise. Stevie is nothing like Hannah. She’s strong, she’s dangerous, and she’s no one’s fucking puppet.