Reaper's Till Death (Devils Rejects MC 3)

“How many of them do you think there are?”

“I think it’s only them two and Harley,” Terror tells me. “If we move fast we can take them out together. Cocky ain’t going anywhere. Looks like he’s been losing blood from his ankle.”

I look over to where he is slumped and see a dark stain on his jeans. Well shit. “Rescuing him will have to wait.”

“If we go around the side we came from we can get closer behind that outhouse.” Terror points to the makeshift shitter. I wonder how long these folks have been surviving out here in the wild undetected.

The foul smell is enough to kill a man. Not to mention all the damn flies buzzing around. This was a terrible idea, but I don’t tell Terror that. I can see he has regrets by the sour expression on his face.

“Goddamn. Goddamn,” he mutters. “Fuck this.”

“That prick is mine. You can handle the bitch.”

“On my count.” He moves his fingers counting from one to three, then pointing.

We roll in fast and furious. I grab the cocksucker around the throat, putting him in a chokehold as Terror goes to grab the woman. When he goes to hook his arm around her throat her head falls off. Well I guess I should say her skull and the wig she had on.

“Mother of fuck,” Terror curses.

“What in the hell is going on around here?” I look to Harley. She’s dressed up in some getup like an overgrown baby doll. Wearing a white frilly dress and socks with lace ruffles and black dress shoes.

“Momma don’t like bad language,” he croaks out.

“Your Momma is dead, you sick freak. Just like you’re going to be.” I don’t wait for any explanations. I grab my bowie knife from my back pocket with my free hand then I slit his throat.

His eyes go wide, and I revel in him knowing I am the last thing he sees when his lights go out. Motherfucker had it coming. His body slumps forward onto the table ruining their sad picnic that looks to consist of the Lunchables he took from our cooler.

Terror geos over to free Cocky while I tend to Harley. Bastard handcuffed her to the arms of the chair. She still hasn’t spoken, and tears are flowing down her face.

“Hey, I got you. I’m here now.” I tilt her face up and then I see what he did. Her lips have been sewn shut.

I feel blinded with rage and I want to kill that sack of shit all over again. I want to bring him back to life to torture him slowly and methodically.

Terror returns with a limping Cocky leaning on him for support.

Dumbshit got caught in a bear trap and was captured by the Hills Have Eyes looking fucker.

“When we get to the trucks, I’ll call Amber and get her to meet us. She’ll make Harley good as new.”

I find the keys to the cuffs in the dead man’s pocket. I free Harley and she practically leaps into my arms still crying. I wrap my arms around her as her legs go around my waist. I kiss her tear stained cheeks as I carry her the whole way back to camp. My legs are burning, and my arms are aching, but I don’t care. I have Harley back in my arms where she belongs. Where she will stay.

Terror loads Cocky into the back of my truck. There’s a motel not too far once I get on the main road where Amber will be meeting us to tend to him and Harley.

Terror is staying back to burn the cabin of that freak and scrub any traces of our being at the campsite.

All I want to do is get Harley to safety.

Chapter Twenty

—Harley—

Two days later

“I’m fine, Quinn. I promise.” I smile at him for good measure.

He shakes his head.

“Are you sure you’re feeling up to it?”