Devil’s Game Read Online Joanna Wylde (Reapers MC, #3)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Biker, Contemporary, Dark, Drama, Erotic, MC, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Reapers MC Series by Joanna Wylde
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Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 117379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
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Now I had both items hidden under the mattress, ready and waiting for our escape attempt. I wasn’t sure what use the wallet would be, but the Leatherman was worth its weight in gold. I was almost positive I could use it to pick the locks on our handcuffs.

Lock picking. Another fun hobby Dad had shared with us girls … I also knew how to hot-wire a car, although I only seemed to get it right about half the time.

Naturally, Kit always nailed it on the first try.

Thinking about her almost made me cry. I wanted to see her again so bad …

“When do you want to try our escape?” Sophie asked, her voice a whisper. I started to answer, but before anything came out, the door opened. Hunter walked into the room. He came over and stood next to the bed, studying me. To say the silence was uncomfortable was one hell of an understatement.

“I’m gonna go see your dad in a bit,” he said, holding my eyes. There was something intimate and scary about his gaze … I blushed, and wondered if it all screamed “Guilty!” to poor Sophie. I sure as shit felt guilty—it wasn’t enough that my stupidity had brought this down on us. No, I’d all but had sex with the enemy, and I have to be honest. I’d have gone all the way if he’d asked me to.

Might as well hand him the keys to the Reapers’ clubhouse while I was at it, because that’s how loyal I’m not.

Fuck it. No more.

“Em?” he asked, and I blinked, realizing I’d missed something.

“What?”

“Roll your hand over so I can get to the lock,” he repeated, his voice quiet and firm. “I want to talk to you before I leave.”

I did what he said, shooting Sophie a glance. She bit her lip, obviously scared for me. She really, really didn’t deserve this situation.

“C’mon,” Hunter said, taking my hand and pulling me to my feet. He grasped my upper arm, leading me out the door and across the hallway to his bedroom.

“Have a seat,” he said quietly. The only place to sit was the bed, which held such fond memories.

“I’ll stand.”

“Sit on the fuckin’ bed, Em,” he growled, and I realized he might be quiet right now, but he was anything but peaceful. I sat. Hunter came and crouched down in front of me, hands resting on my knees, face-to-face. I didn’t want him touching me, and it took everything I had not to kick him in the face. I’d already learned, though. No point in attacking unless I had somewhere to go with it.

“I want some information from you,” he said. “I’ve got a meet with your dad in an hour. I need him to tell me the truth about Toke, and I need to make him listen about the truce between the clubs. What can you tell me to make that happen?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I asked, raising my brows. “You already used me to screw my club. Fool me once, asshole. I have nothing to say. Nada.”

“Babe, I know you believe Toke is out of control,” he said, his eyes earnest, boring into mine. I squirmed, uncomfortable with his intensity. “And I think there’s a pretty good chance your dad is telling the truth when he says that’s the story. But here’s the thing … Right now, only a few guys in my club know what’s happening. We can keep a lid on it for one more day at most. Once the rest find out, we’re looking at a war and nothing can prevent it.”

“Fuck. You.”

He smirked.

“Later, sweetheart. Now try to keep your mind on business for me like a good girl.”

“Jesus, you’re a perv!”

“Yeah, you’re right about that,” he replied, grinning. Then his smile faded. “I’m gonna fill you in a little on some shit we don’t talk about, okay? That’s how fuckin’ serious this is. There’s two groups in my club. One side—which includes me, Skid, and our brothers in Portland—wants peace with the Reapers. We aren’t too happy with the way things have been these past few years. I hate to admit it, but a lot of the Devil’s Jacks have lost their way. More interested in money and territory than living free and brotherhood. Our national president is weak, babe. The Jacks have been running loose, and it’s time for someone new to take over, clean house. Up until last night, we just about had things lined up to control the next election. Toke fucked that up for us.”

I listened, stunned. What was this, some kind of trick?

“I’m telling you this because it’s our last chance, babe,” he said quietly, obviously reading my thoughts. “This gets out, Burke—that’s our guy—loses his shot at the presidency. We bet everything on the truce with the Reapers, on a complete change of direction for the club. There are others who want war, and Toke will give it to them. Mason, our old president, held on as long as he could, trying to give us the time we needed to pull it off. He can’t hold on any longer—cancer. Hasn’t been able to ride for nearly a month. We don’t put this problem to rest—today—it’s all over. That means war between the clubs, babe. The cartel will move up from California and we won’t be able to stop them. They’ll destroy the Jacks and then they’ll come after the Reapers.”


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