Queen of The Reapers by Jessa Halliwell

Twelve

The three ofus storm into Hell’s Tavern with one thing on our minds... finding Atlas and Ezra. As soon as we step through the front entrance, we see the club is raging, with a large crowd of sweaty bodies grinding on the dance floor. Diplo is pumping through the speakers, and the hypnotic red lights only add to the seductive ambiance oozing from wall to wall. There’s only thirty minutes left until closing, but by the way the crowd is behaving, you wouldn’t know it. The bar is just as packed as the dance floor, and the bartenders are doing what they can to push out as many drinks as possible.

Hell’s Tavern is loud, chaotic, and honestly it’s the last place I want to be right now. But after trying to get a hold of Atlas and Ezra for the last thirty minutes with no luck, coming here was our only actual option.

The lighting in Hell’s Tavern is so abysmal, I can barely make out the twins as they guide me through the dance floor. I try to search the crowd for Atlas and Ezra, but the flashing strobe lights make it nearly impossible to decipher anyone’s features.

“We’re never going to find them like this.” I shout, my voice barely carrying above the thundering bass.

Tristan lets out a high-pitched whistle, and the DJ’s head instantly snaps up. Tris gestures for him to cut the track, and within seconds, the music comes to an abrupt halt. The drunken crowd immediately goes into an uproar, but before it can escalate any further, Cy steps up on the stage and gathers everyone’s attention.

“Listen up!” He booms over the sizable crowd. “We’re closing early tonight. Everybody out. Now!”

As soon as the crowd recognizes who’s making the call, they waste no time at all. They charge out of the building in such a rush, you’d think Cy just lit the place on fire. Even the drunk assholes sober up enough to join the evacuating crowd, deciding to wait outside for their Ubers.

As the last few stragglers trickle out of the front entrance, a slow clap starts from somewhere in the darkness. The twins quickly form a barricade around me and the three of us circle around the center of the room, searching for the source.

The search doesn’t take long. Before we make a move, a large silhouette emerges from one of the dark corners of the bar and steps forward into the light.

“Nice performance.” Dimitri says, cocking his head with amusement. “If I may ask, what’s the special occasion?”

None of your fucking business.

“Just looking f… for our brothers.” Tristan says, keeping his face neutral. “You haven’t s… seen them, have you?”

Dimitri shrugs his shoulders as he swirls the drink in his hand. Little beads of precipitation flick off and fall to the ground as the rich, coral liquid sloshes around the glass.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” He responds, slinging back the rest of his hellhound in one gulp. He places his glass back on the bar and then slowly levels his eyes on me. “Kroshka,” he says, licking the remnants of grapefruit juice from his lips, “care for a drink?”

“I’m good.” I hiss, stepping closer to the twins. I haven’t forgiven them, not by a long shot, but I need to set aside my feelings for Alex’s sake. Every minute she’s gone is critical and we’re wasting time entertaining Dimitri’s stupid questions.

“We said, ‘everybody out’.” Cyrus hisses through gritted teeth. “That includes you.”

The words are friendly, but the way he delivers them is anything but. He gives Dimitri a hard glare, but the stubborn asshole just looks back at Cyrus with bored disinterest.

Instead of being thrown off by Dimitri’s blatant disrespect, Cyrus shakes his head and smirks, almost as if he was hoping for that reaction all along. Cyrus advances towards him. His movements are predatory and his gaze is cold, like a hunter who’s about to corner his prey after a long chase.

I see a challenge in Dimitri’s eyes as he stares back at him. Like he’s just begging him to come closer. There’s so much more to The Reapers’ relationship with Dimitri than I thought. The tension between these two alone is staggering. I have no doubt in my mind that they’d kill each other if we let them. But before it can escalate any further, Tristan places a hand on his twin’s shoulder and stops him in his tracks.

“It’s a private f… family meeting.” Tristan offers, staring at Dimitri with a stiff smile. “You understand.”

Dimitri nods his head with a small chuckle and sets his empty glass on the bar top.

“Of course.” He says, turning his large body towards the exit. “Gentlemen, it’s been fun and Kroshka,” he pauses, looking at me in a way that is anything but friendly, “I hope you have very sweet dreams tonight.”

I really fucking hate that guy.

After brushing off Dimitri’s useless distraction, the three of us bolt for Atlas’ office and find the door locked. Tristan tries to knock, but when we don’t get an immediate answer, the twins decide to kick the door in. After about five tries, the door finally flies off of its hinges and the dust clears just in time for us to see Atlas jerk himself awake. Even half awake, his survival instincts kick in. Without hesitating, he pulls out his gun and levels it at us with deadly precision.

“Down boy.” Cyrus says, reaching out to lower Atlas’ gun. “It’s just us.”

“What the hell are you guys doing here?” He asks, rubbing his tired eyes into focus. “I thought we agreed you’d stay with her at the house?”

The twins hesitate, as if deciding how to even begin describing the events of the evening. Hell, it would be hard for anyone to describe that much horror, but we don’t have time to waste. Not when Alex’s life is in jeopardy. So I say the first words that come to my head.

“We have a fucking problem.”

* * *

I reluctantly plopdown into the center of the black chesterfield and cross my arms over my chest. As soon as I explained my thoughts on what we found, Atlas said he needed a second to think. But really, what the hell is there to think about?

Its obvious Melanie took her. She’s the only person on the planet who A. knew about my sister and B. would think I stole from her. Case fucking closed. Unfortunately, it seems as if I’m the only one who’s convinced of her guilt. When Atlas asked, Tristan and Cyrus both hesitated to back my theory, saying we needed to look at every possibility before jumping to conclusions. Fucking cowards.

I shoot a hard glare at the twins, but they’re too busy watching Atlas slowly pace back and forth to notice.

His office smells like him. Like expensive cologne and refined taste. Every detail in the room suits him. The furniture is modern and the walls are decorated tastefully, but what’s even more impressive is the bird's-eye view the office provides. With his two-way mirrored floor, he’s able to see the entire club from this room. No wonder he felt comfortable crashing here. That view, combined with the security teams, and the three deadbolts the twins had to kick-in to get through, would make anyone feel comfortable enough to sleep like a baby.

My exhausted body would love nothing more than to hide in a haven like this. To slow down and rest for just a few minutes. But I can’t, because for every second I sit here, it’s another second Alex could be getting hurt.

“You’re being awfully quiet.” Atlas notes as he takes a seat next to me.

“You guys won’t listen either way.” I mumble, picking at the stray denim strands on my cut-off shorts. “Figured I’d just save my breath.”

“We’re trying.” He responds. “But what you’re suggesting…”

“It doesn’t make sense, P.” Cyrus says flatly.

“Really?” I ask, glaring daggers at the three of them. “It’s never a crime to steal from a thief? Tell me, who else would think I stole from them?”

“Jessie.” Tristan points out, leaning against the desk as he crosses his legs.

The thought of Jessie having something to do with this hadn’t even crossed my mind, but now that he mentions it, she too could’ve done something like this.

“No.” Atlas says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “She’s locked up. Besides, she wouldn’t have the power to orchestrate something this complex.”

“Then if it’s not her, it has to be Melanie.” I say, looking at Atlas with pleading eyes. “She’s the only one who knows about Alex. She thinks I stole you. Taking my sister is her way of getting back at me.”

Atlas’ face contorts into a scowl.

“We still shouldn’t jump to conclusions.” He says, slowly shaking his head. “We did last time, and it almost killed you.”

“It could be your stepfather.” Cyrus offers. “He’s used her as a bargaining chip before.”

“Or s… someone who knows what we did to your ex and his friends.” Tristan adds, looking at me pointedly.

Shit.My list of enemies got a hell of a lot longer since the last time I checked it. Still, my gut is telling me that this whole thing has Melanie written all over it.

“It’s Melanie.” I say, shooting up from my seat as my body refuses to sit idly. I pace back and forth in front of the coffee table for a moment before continuing. “It has to be. We have to stop her before she hurts Alex.”

“It’s nearly 3am.”

“You think she cares that it’s 3am? She probably has her men fucking torturing my sister right now. If you don’t want to take me, that’s fine. I’ll go by myself. I’m getting my sister back tonight. With or without you.”

The room fills with silence as Atlas, Tristan, and Cyrus simply stare at me for a few beats. I feel a significant change happening within me and I think they can sense it, too. Before tonight, I always warred within myself. Fighting between doing right by Alex and doing right by The Reapers. But after everything that’s happened, I can’t continue fighting with myself. I’ve got to pick a side once and for all.

“Your idle threats are getting ridiculous, don’t you think?” Ezra calls out, stepping into the doorway to join us. “You have no car. No money. Face it, Angel, you need us.”

I eye Ezra as he slowly saunters into the office. He’s shirtless and freshly showered, with a hint of soap still lingering on his skin. It’s strange that there’s a shower in here somewhere, but it makes sense given the activities that go on in the dungeon.

His black joggers are slung low on his hips, leaving his ink-kissed chest and abs on full display. He casually rubs a black towel through his wet hair and stares at the four of us with a question behind his eyes. His black joggers are slung low on his hips, leaving his ink-kissed chest and abs on full display. He casually rubs a black towel through his wet hair and stares at the four of us with a question behind his eyes.

“What did I miss?” He asks, tossing the towel over his muscular shoulder.

“Stevie’s sister has been taken.” Atlas informs him as he runs a hand through his hair.

“And they left this at the s… scene.” Tristan adds, showing Ezra the picture of the hand-written message.

“The plot thickens.” Ezra says, leveling his eyes at me as he slides the phone back to Tristan.

“This isn’t a fucking joke.” I clip, cocking my head in his direction. “She’s in danger.”

Ezra scoffs as he slowly advances towards me.

“I’m aware.” He deadpans as he towers over me. “But personally, I could give two shits about your sister. Why is any of this a concern for us?”

His careless disregard for Alex's safety pisses me off. I want to tell him to fuck-off, to leave if he doesn't want to help, but I can’t give him the satisfaction. I won’t.

Being cruel and heartless is just part of who he is. It’s part of who they all are, really. They aren’t men who will hold me close and tell me everything will be okay. They’re men that will challenge me and push me in ways I never see coming. They’ll break me over and over again, just because they can. The only way I’ll ever be able to survive in their world is to beat them at their own games. To fight their cruelty with a brand of my own.

“You know what.” I hiss, scanning his face like I’m trying to memorize every inch of it. “I’m going to let your casual disregard for my sister slide, because I know that, unlike your brothers, you’re damaged beyond repair. But just so we’re clear, you should be concerned. Alex was the only thing tying me to this city and without her, I’m as good as fucking gone.”

I stand there quietly, studying his hard features. His dark, wet hair falls into his face as his smoldering dark grey eyes hold my gaze. There’s so much unfiltered rage flickering behind his eyes that standing so close to him kicks my survival instinct into overdrive. Deep down, I want nothing more than to take back everything I said and tell him the truth. That I need him and even if I wanted to, there’s no way in hell I could ever leave. That despite what he thinks about himself, he’s still redeemable. But that’s not how things work with Ezra. He can’t accept my love, and if I approach him in a loving way, he’ll see me as weak and I’ll never earn his respect. I have to fight his fire with my own and inflict pain to battle the pain he inflicts on me.

“Look, I’m tired of fighting.” I say, backing away from Ezra so I can turn and face all of them. “I just need to know. Are you guys coming with me or not?”

As soon as I’m done speaking, Ezra storms off in a blaze of white-hot fury. I want to chase after him, but after what I said, I’m probably the last person he needs to see right now.

I wait for a decision while Atlas, Tristan, and Cyrus whisper among each other. After a few minutes, they break apart and Atlas steps forward.

“There’s no way in hell you’re going without us.” He says, his voice taking on an authoritative tone. “That you’d even think that shows you’re not in the right headspace. We’ll head there tomorrow.” He continues, giving me a hard glare when I roll my eyes at him. “We need sleep and you need to calm the fuck down. If you attack her unprovoked in her own home, there’s nothing we can do to protect you.”

As much as I hate to admit it, I know Atlas is right. If we were to head to Melanie’s right now, I wouldn't be able to stop myself from pouncing on her. I need time to calm down, if not for my sake, for Alex’s.

“Fine.” I say dismissively, crossing my arms over my chest. “Tomorrow then. Let’s just hope Alex is still breathing when we get there.”

“She’ll be fine!” The twins assert in union, cutting their eyes at me.

“She’s their only bargaining chip.” Cyrus adds. “Whoever took her won’t do anything stupid to fuck it up.”

The three of them continue to talk about strategies for tomorrow’s visit, but after a while, I stop listening. They say my sister’s safe and every single part of me hopes that they’re right. Not just for her sake, but for ours, too. If something happens to her, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive them.