Fable's Foes, page 9
part #2 of Grimm Tales of Smoky Vale Series
Whereas I was better prepared mentally to deal with Cass, I hadn’t expected the other two men in the bedroom. Jamie. I hadn’t seen him since the big burly, rough guy who must be the president had whisked him away. His face looked pale, and his eyes were haunted and red-rimmed. I recalled him begging his boyfriend not to leave his father’s body behind.
It couldn’t have been easy for him to lose his father in such a way.
The guy standing beside him looked to be the same age. He had dark hair and was of my stature. He stared at me curiously and wore a frown that didn’t quite mask the worry in his eyes. He whispered something in Jamie’s ear I couldn’t hear.
“Fable, how are you?” Jamie asked, stepping closer. “Zak told me to take a look at your feet. Sit on the bed, please.”
I scowled at him, hating him for getting me into this mess. He was the one who’d begged them not to kill me, and here I was, uncertain of my fate.
“What the fuck do you care?” I made no effort to take the bite out of my voice.
His companion’s frown deepened. “Hey, no need to be nasty. From what I hear, you should be grateful Jamie got the men to take you, or you would’ve been dead too.”
“Joel, it’s okay,” Jamie said softly, giving his friend a smile.
“No, it’s not. You don’t need this shit right now. You saved his life.”
I scoffed aloud, feeling braver without bikers breathing down my neck. “And how long do I have it for?”
“Is that what you’re worried about?” Jamie frowned. “Because Grimm has laid down the law. Nobody is supposed to touch you.”
“Actually, Mort told me someone told him that one of the brothers overheard Grimm telling Booker he could dispose of Fable,” Cass piped up from his position on the bed.
I gasped, my eyes widening.
“Shut up, Cass!” Jamie snapped, staring down the boy. “I’m sure you heard wrong. Nobody is supposed to touch him, and that’s final. Besides, I’ll talk to Grimm about moving him to the Great House instead of here.”
“If that’s true, then why not let me go?”
Jamie sighed, loud and heavy, as he rubbed at his temples. “Look, I appreciate your concern yesterday when they brought me in, Fable, but I also love Grimm and this club. We can’t risk you doing something to get them sent to prison. They did nothing but save our lives, and the Di Oro brothers don’t deserve justice for what happened to them. None of those men who died do. You’ll stay here with us until we figure something out. Maybe in time, you’ll see we’re the good guys and not report us when we let you go.”
His words were comforting, but could I trust him? Cass seemed so sure that their leader had given Booker permission to kill me, and if that was the case, I expected him to do it.
“Now sit on the bed so I can look at your feet.” Without a word, I sat on the edge of the bed. “The rest of you go, so I can talk to Fable alone.”
“But I want to stay,” Cass whined.
“Take him with you, Joel.”
The two guys left the room, Cass’s bottom lip a mile long. When the door closed behind them, Jamie turned back to me.
“Now, it’s just you and me.” Jamie raised my legs, placed them on the bed, and inspected them. “I hope you’ll listen to what I have to say. I swear to you, Fable, that these men won’t hurt you. Now, do you have any medical conditions that I need to know about?”
Chapter Ten
Zak
Fuck.
When I opened my front door, my smile faltered and my mind went haywire. I shouldn't have been surprised by the man standing on the porch. I’d been expecting the house call. For a couple of weeks now, I’d ignored every call from him and kept my phone mostly powered off instead of on.
"Good morning, Zak," Horatio said, unfurling his frame from the column he’d been lounging against in wait for me. He could’ve knocked at the door anytime or simply let himself in.
"Horatio." A sweeping glance behind him assured me he was alone. "I didn't expect you."
"How could you? You've stopped answering my calls."
"Things have been a little tense lately," I lied. "I've had to stay low in case they suspect anything."
"And?"
"And I've got nothing." My heart pumped hard in my chest. "I'm sorry, but—"
"Bullshit."
I darted my gaze around a second time, now to ensure none of my brothers were lurking around. The last time Horatio had visited me for an update, Booker had shown up unexpectedly at my front door. Thankfully he'd jumped to the conclusion that Horatio and I had been fucking, or he probably would’ve asked about the other man.
"We've invested ten months into this operation," the man said calmly, but I knew better than to think he was anything of the sort. "We've not yet had a return on our investment. You must know something. Nothing? Not even on the twins?"
I folded my arms across my chest. "Look, man, you know why I agreed to this. I felt like we were doing the right thing, and I think we are, but we've found the wrong club to focus our attention on. My brothers are legit the—"
"Brothers?" Shit, too late, I realized what I’d said. "You think these men are your brothers? Are you now protecting them instead of giving us vital information that can put them away?"
"Horatio, you know my past. If these men were anything like that, I wouldn't hesitate to take them down."
"They are involved with drugs." Horatio took a step toward me. "They take the law into their own hands, killing anyone they have a conflict with. They extort, they whore out our women, and they take our boys and make them into criminals. They all deserve to be sentenced to death."
Every hair at the back of my neck stood on end. Something about him seemed off, his eyes almost maniacal looking. I was treading in dangerous territory, and after this, everything I stood for over the last ten months would be shit.
The easier option would be to give Horatio what he wanted. I had more than enough intel about Grimm, Booker, and all the men to put them away for a long time. Their latest action would result in exactly what Horatio needed—getting rid of the Reapers permanently.
"Then that's something you'll have to figure out on your own."
My muscles tensed, ready to react should Horatio attack. He was getting desperate, and a desperate man couldn’t be trusted. I could take him, though, once he was alone. My stint in the army might’ve been brief, but I’d learned a thing or two about protecting myself.
I didn’t expect him to step back, leaving my decision unchallenged. When he’d approached me because of my background in the military to work with a secret special arm of the FBI aimed at dismantling organized crime, I thought I’d found my purpose.
"That's your final response?" Horatio asked.
My stomach knotted. Could he see me sweating? The first time he’d contacted me, I’d been strung out. Death didn’t scare me. Back then, I’d had nothing and no one to live for. No family. No friends. But now, I finally had the close connection of a found family. I’d just discovered what it meant to care deeply for someone. I didn't want to lose that. Not without making it right.
Booker.
"Believe me, Horatio. You don't want the Reapers. Other clubs are way more dangerous to have around. Reassign me to another club, and I'll do it. Just not these guys. They don't deserve it."
Even as the words left my mouth, my heart crumbled at the thought of moving on. I’d have to disappear, leaving everyone wondering. Shit. I’d never see my brothers again. Not just Booker but everyone. Cass. Jamie. The twins.
They were the closest to a family I’d ever have, and they’d welcomed me into their club under my false pretense.
"The Reapers are dangerous to Smoky Vale. Any group who blindly follows a leader like that unchallenged must be dismantled. If we allow one club to be successful, the law will be taken out of our hands. No one is above the law, Zak. No one."
Horatio walked away to his black Range Rover parked in the driveway. He opened the door, then paused and looked back at me.
"Just what do you think they'll do to you when they find out what you’ve done?” He smirked. “You think they'll have mercy on you? That they’ll see you as one of them? I’ll give you some time to decide how you want to play this out."
The threat hung heavy in the air, but I refused to show him how much his words affected me. He spoke the truth, but as slim as the chances of forgiveness were for betraying the Reapers, I’d rather throw myself on their mercy than to betray them any more than I had already done.
“Fuck,” I cursed long after Horatio’s car was no longer visible. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
My mind was too crowded to come up with a better sentiment, and it was enough to express how I felt in the moment. Fucked. Completely screwed.
Horatio’s visit or not, I had a duty to attend to. I grabbed Patty from the garage and let her roar. Immediately, a sort of peace came over me. Maybe I had only a short time left with the Reapers. Maybe they’d kill me. I knew how they operated, and killing someone was usually saved for drastic measures, but what I’d done didn’t warrant forgiveness.
I would embrace the time I had left with my family, and whatever happened, I’d accept the consequences. I’d pay the penance just like the Reapers code dictated: to bear penance for one's action without complaint and without expecting mercy.
Given Horatio’s threat, I shouldn’t feel as calm as I did. He could destroy my life. The house I lived in belonged to some deceased family member of his late wife, and I’d lived there rent-free. Having made the decision not to betray my brothers any more than I’d already done made me feel better, though. All I needed to do was right those wrongs.
I should at least be heading out of town to salvage the situation, but finally acknowledging to Horatio that I could no longer be the FBI’s spy was freeing. They had to have known the gamble they took in involving a civilian in this operation.
Outside the clubhouse, a black flag symbolized the brothers we had lost. The place was quieter than usual. Several of our men had been asked to lie low in case the police came poking their nose into our business. At least that was the reason Grimm had given, but I also knew it was to provide the men some time with their families after their close brush with death a few days ago.
If only I could get Horatio to understand why I couldn’t betray Grimm.
Trying would be useless, though. Horatio seemed to have been placed on this special task force because of his dislike for biker clubs. It was extremely personal for him, and he’d used our commonality in that sense to win me over to his side when he first tried to recruit me.
I parked Patty next to Booker’s bike and stroked the seat, reminiscing about the times we’d spent together while Hyacinth was here and the weeks following. They had been idyllic. Too good to be true, even though Booker and I had taken precautions not to label what we had. Like me, he was reluctant to trust others, and our truce had worked until I’d called it off.
Plastering the smile on my face that everyone had grown used to by now, I skipped up the steps of the clubhouse and entered. Loud noise pulled me toward the rec room, where I found the men gambling. I nodded at Grimm, who sat observing his men with a somber look on his face. Jamie sat in his arms, eyes closed as if he was sleeping.
Damn, he looked tired. Yesterday had been his father’s funeral, and he was still looking after Whip, who’d regained consciousness but was still fighting for his life. He’d fare better at the hospital. Jamie had made it clear that he still was just an intern. Many things he couldn’t handle, but when Whip surfaced, he’d insisted he’d rather die than go to the hospital.
Bullet wounds would not escape the attention of the physicians at the hospital. Questions would be asked, especially since the bloodbath. Jamie had received intel that the police had asked to be alerted if anyone was brought in with gunshot wounds. Bringing Whip there would do nothing but confirm what most people suspected. That the Grimm Reapers were involved.
“Say, Zak, wanna join our bet?”
With a laugh, I shook my head and stepped back. “I suck at bets.”
“Is that the only thing you suck at?”
I rolled my eyes at the cheesy line. “Well, I know for sure I’m not sucking on you.”
The guys cackled, slapping the table. I slipped out of the room, leaving them to their game. If I hadn’t been a hundred percent sure I was making the right decision, the laughter at my back would have done the trick.
Booker’s bedroom door was partially open, and I slipped inside without knocking. At the sight of the broad inked back standing before the sink practically banging pans in the kitchenette, I forgot club business. I forgot Horatio. Fable sat in his usual position on the floor at the foot of the bed, completely ignoring Booker and whatever intimidation tactics he was trying this time.
Amused, I held back my chuckle to avoid risking Booker getting more irritated. This had been the routine since Fable had taken up residency in his rooms. Booker threatened, Fable ignored, and I tried to smooth all the ruffled feathers. I was getting pretty good at coming between them. Of calming down Booker and getting Fable to eat. He still refused to eat anything Booker gave him.
Our little captive knew exactly what he was doing each time he refused anything Booker offered him. So far, every time I tried talking to him about Booker not being as scary as he seemed, Fable shut up, and Booker complained that I was making him look like a sweet old lady instead of the rough enforcer of the Grimm Reapers.
Fable raised his head. I swore a tiny smile touched his lips, but by the time I blinked, it was gone. I must’ve imagined it after all. His posture relaxed, though, and he straightened out his legs instead of pulling up his knees as I’d come to notice was his defensive stance. It erected an imaginary barrier between him and us.
Without a word to Fable, I walked toward Booker and leaned against the counter with my hip. He must’ve sensed me because he didn’t even startle at my presence.
“How did you figure out it was me?” I snagged an apple from the counter.
He continued scrubbing the pot in his hand like he was going to war with it. “Who said I did?”
“You didn’t even startle just now.”
He shrugged. “So?” He was extra surly this morning. Had something happened between Fable and him in the one night I’d left them alone?
“Just saying. If you’re ever going undercover, you might want to change your aftershave,” he grumbled.
I grinned at him, sinking my teeth into the apple, and moaned at the juiciness. Booker paused washing the dishes, and I couldn’t help teasing him. “Do you know how sexy it is for a big strong man like you to be doing the dishes? Now all we need is to get you an apron.”
“Shut up, or I’ll make you do them.”
I laughed, stepping away from him. “Not likely to happen. Where’s his breakfast?”
He returned to washing, rinsed the pot, and placed it on the dish rack. “Maybe he already ate.”
“If he had, your grumpiness factor would’ve dialed down a bit.”
“I’m not grumpy.”
“Mm-hmm.” I turned to Fable, who was pretending not to have been watching us. “You hungry, you pretty little thing?”
Fable’s face went red. It always did when I came up with some sort of endearment for him, but I’d noticed that whenever I did use those terms, he loosened up some.
He was an odd guy, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but he was enough of an enigma to make me curious. His head bobbed up and down without him saying a word.
“Stop flirting with him.” Booker frowned at Fable, but the boy refused to look at him. “Besides, it’s just cereal for breakfast.”
“You okay with that?” I asked Fable. “If not, I can send Booker to get you pancakes and eggs.”
I ignored Booker’s murderous glare and focused on Fable, who nodded, his tongue peeking out to moisten his bottom lip. He had to be hungry, yet he refused to eat when Booker brought him food. He’d rather wait for me to show up to feed him.
“Perhaps if you try to feed him like I do,” I gently said to Booker. “Then he’ll respond—”
“No!” the small voice protested, startling both Booker and me. “You, not him. He’s a monster.”
Booker observed Fable, and I stood on edge, ready to come between the two of them should it be necessary. Why was he taunting Booker? Didn’t he know if the enforcer decided to put a bullet through him, there was little I could do to prevent it?
“That’s right.” Booker’s voice was cold enough to frost over the room. “And don’t you forget it.”
Fable shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. Booker turned away and grabbed the cereal from the top of the counter along with a bowl and shoved it at me. Without another word, he stalked toward his bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him.
Seconds ticked by, and I frowned at Fable, not saying a word. He looked away, but not before I saw the small smile. He was riling up Booker on purpose. The sneaky little devil was pushing all Booker’s buttons.
I poured the cereal into the bowl along with some milk and picked up a spoon, then took my usual place before Fable on the floor.
“Hey.”
When he didn’t respond, I gripped his chin gently and pushed upward until he didn’t have a choice but to look at me.
“Why are you poking the bear? You got a death wish or something?”
“I don’t like him.”
Unable to stay mad at him for long, I chuckled at the simplistic, childish statement. “It doesn’t matter if you like him. Didn’t your daddy ever teach you about self-preservation? You catch more flies with honey, sugar.”
“Please let me go.” His eyes brimmed with tears. “I swear I won’t tell anyone. I just want to leave. I don’t belong here, and-and-and—”
He burst into tears that would have more than likely annoyed Booker had he been here. I placed the bowl on the floor, tugged my bandana from my pocket, and handed it to him.
“Come on, don’t cry. I did promise you nothing would happen to you, didn’t I?”
