Death Reapers MC: Angels to Ash

xv.

Wolf sat up super straight in his chair, staring at me expectantly, tense. He cocked a brow, waiting.

I took a deep breath, swallowing deeply. Trace didn't like all the stalling nonsense.

"We have a rat."

Trace nodded, eyes glazed and far away. Not really the reaction I expected. Wolf jumped up, looking as if I told him that Riley and I had just run off and got married.

"WHAT?!" He roared, huffing and puffing. I really thought he might hyperventilate. I blinked at him as he started moaning. He ripped off his cut, throwing it.

"I mean, it's Rage. But the information he had on us lines up. Him, Shooter, and Shooter's right hand man Grizzly were all absent when we hit their clubhouse. Everyone else that night was expendable." I shook my head, slowly, thinking. "I mean, it makes sense. Their numbers took a hit, which is something at least.."

Trace was staring straight ahead, his hands in front of his mouth like he was praying. "What else makes you think this?"

I scratched at my forehead. "He knew we lost Red. That we buried him."

Wolf paced up and down his side of the table. "They could've heard word of mouth when we mourned. It was weeks."

I ran my hands up and down my neck. "He wants us to disown Riley. He was trying to sell it like she was giving them information. But she knows nothing. I wouldn't tell her, and I know you both wouldn't either. I acted on emotion regarding that." I stared at my lap, regret licking up my collar.

Wolf stopped pacing, brow furrowed. "We all would have reacted the same way, brother. There's no shame in doing what you have to do for the club." Wolf stared at me so intensely that I knew he meant it.

Trace cleared his throat. "Riley knows what club means. She's been through a lot worse than an interrogation." He left it at that.

I nodded slowly, eyes glossing over the Death Reaper carved on the table in front of me.

"Who do you suspect?" Trace asked, eyes on the Reaper, too.

I had thought this over obsessively. Constantly. I shook my head. "Someone fresh. Someone dumb enough to cross us. Not an older member, no one who has shown their loyalty."

Wolf punched the door, muttering to himself.

I delivered the final blow. "He knows where our next gun shipment will be. He didn't say it out right, it was more subtle hints. That certain land markers, he might soon ambush." I licked my dry lips, feeling my phone buzz in my pocket. "Maybe y'all will just have to trust me, but someone with a patch is feeding him information. I saw it in his fucking eyes." I shook my head, lids drooping low. I could fall asleep right then and there.

Wolf nodded, sitting down across from me. His face was concerned. "Angel. I don't want to have to say this twice. We will never agree on Riley, except for her safety. But you're our sergeant-at-arms, and that means," his eyes met Trace's, "that your gut feeling, your judgement, whatever you got out of Rage, we believe in. We believe in you 100%, no explanations." It was like a hallmark movie. Trace just stared at me, nodding once in agreement.

I blinked back at him, clearing my throat. "I won't let y'all down. Know that I take this seriously. I don't have a family," I thought of Lux, moved on, "and the Reapers mean more to me than I could ever express." Fuck, what was this, an emotional pour-your-heart out moment? Yuck.

We made a plan on how to flush the rat. I was skeptical. But I'd do anything to get the traitor out. As we stood to leave, Trace stopped us. "I'll feed everyone different information. In a week's time, we'll pick Rage up again and beat the fucking information out of him." His eyes were ablaze with something I'd seen in Riley's, in that interrogation room. Hellfire and determination.