Chapter Four
Trigger
I jumped back and forth, kicking and punching to try to clear my damned head. I had to make a drop and seal a deal with the Reaper, and all I could do was think about who the hell hit Tess. I watched the tapes from my club, but it showed nothing. My thoughts weren’t clear. This was not how I operated. I was a machine. I wasn’t meant to be clouded by a f*****g woman who got herself into trouble on day three of her job.
If my father were here, he’d beat the s**t out of me. I was only meant to make money. I was his cash cow, a way to form the Devil’s Reach. I was the reason this place existed. When he left, I was eighteen and had more life experience killing people than most of the seniors here. I had the respect of the club, but I had their fear more. Bottom line—fear
