REAPER: GOLDEN SKULLS M.C. by Rebecca Joyce (best e book reader TXT) 📕

is up there with your baby momma, I want to know the probability of this situation before I go in guns blazing.”

“I’m not sure. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“Well, I’m going with seventy percent, considering our dad fucked anything with two legs and got several of them pregnant.”

“He did not,” I groaned. “He only got mom and Shirley pregnant.”

“Exactly. Mom had the three of us, and Shirly has four. Seriously man, our cocks are locked and always loaded. That’s why I wear a jacket every time I fuck, unlike you. There won’t be any little Shadows following me around.”

“Keep talking, and there won’t be any of you left in the world, period.”

“Did you discuss this theory with Malachi?”

“No.”

“Well, Baltazar, get your head in the game because we are about to test that theory of yours, and if it’s correct, you better pray Reaper is forgiving.”

Walking away, Shadow whistled as he rejoined Massacre and Hammer. Reaching for my phone, I sent off a text.

Me: How’s Reaper?

Grimm: still drunk.

Me: Caroline?

Grimm: waiting.

Me: Any new updates?

Grimm: nope

Grimm: You okay?

Me: yeah.

Grimm: bring them home, Baltazar.

Me: You knew?

Grimm: suspected

What the fuck!

I didn’t have time to yell at Grimm, nor did I have time to think about the ramifications if my theory was right. What I needed to do was get my head on straight because I was about to rescue a woman that I left naked on my bed without a thank you or a goodbye almost five years ago, and the probability of her trying to kill me was one hundred percent.

None of us said a single word as we exited the elevator on the hotel’s fourth floor. Moving quietly down the hall, I spotted room 401 and motioned for the boys to spread out. I could hear movement from inside the room, then a distinctive curse which made me grin. I took that as a good sign that we were in the right place.

Nodding to my brothers, I stepped away from the door and kicked it open. The door splintered and flew about the room as the occupants froze.

“About fucking time,” the beautiful, pissed-off woman shouted as she round kicked a man in the face. “This mother fucker was about to fucking rape me. Weren’t you Putty-Face?”

I watched as Mia grabbed Pavlov by the back of his shirt, rolled him over, and kicked him swiftly right between the legs. I cringed while my brothers groaned in sympathy for the asshole.

“You think you can take what is mine and get away with it. Well, let me enlighten you, Putty-Face, that was never going to end well for you. I warned you from the beginning not to lay a finger on me or mine, but you couldn’t help yourself, could you? You are a sick man Putty-Face. You know what my family does to sick people like you. They torture you. Good thing, I’m nothing like them because If I were, I wouldn’t be able to do this.”

The second Mia said that I ran to stop what she was about to do as I watched as she reached behind her and grabbed the blades, I knew she kept in her belt loops. Just as she was about to plunge them deep into Pavlov’s neck, I tackled her from behind. Landing hard on the other side of the couch, I took a deep breath as I tried to reign in the terror that was in my arms.

She was spitting mad as she kicked, screamed, punched, and fought with everything in her to get back to the man bleeding profusely on the floor. “Jesus Mia, calm the fuck down!” I roared, trying to get a handle on her as she kneed my kidney’s from behind.

Coughing, I rolled to my side, trying desperately to catch a breath.

“You don’t get to order me around, asshole.”

With that, she left me moaning on the floor as she went to greet the rest of the brothers. God, that woman was the bane of my existence. How I ever fell in love with her, I would never know. Slowly getting to my feet, I was about to move when the door behind me opened.

“Momma?” a little angelic voice whispered. “I did what you said. I counted to a hundred. Can I come out now?”

The room stilled.

All talking stopped as the door opened wider to reveal a small little girl with raven hair and silver eyes. She was beautiful. Standing there in her pink pajamas, she looked exactly like her momma, but it was her eyes and hair that told me everything I already knew.

I was a father.

She was mine.

“Her name,” I growled.

“Rebekah,” Mia whispered, moving closer to the door. I looked at her, and she instantly stopped as I shook my head no. Turning back to the little girl, I kneeled down in front of her and smiled, “Hello Becca, I’m Baltazar. Do you know who I am?”

My daughter nodded shyly, looking at her Momma. “You are my daddy.”

“That’s right, angel. I am your daddy.”

“Can I come out now? Momma said I could when I counted to a hundred. I counted to a hundred.”

“Yes, angel, you can come out.”

My daughter grinned and ran to her mother, who instantly picked her up and hugged her. “This doesn’t mean anything, Baltazar.”

“Oh, my little Tyrant, that’s where you are dead wrong,” I said sternly, then turned to the shocked brothers in the room. “Bag and tag the bastard. We leave in five. Shadow, call the cleaners, let them know the room is theirs. Massacre get us transport. We are driving back, and Becca needs a car seat. Make it happen.”

Turning to Mia, I said. “And you. You are not leaving my sight until we talk. Go grab what you need.”

As Mia started walking into the room my daughter just came out of, I added, “And don’t even think for one second I am playing games, Mia.”

Within the hour, Mia had Becca secured in the back of the two black SUV’s Massacre was able to rent.