Reaper's Wrath (Road to Salvation A Last Rider's Trilogy 2)

“Where else would I be?” Tying a white apron behind his back, Marty moved to stand in front of them.

She had no answer for that bit of cheer, and Reaper didn’t blame her; Marty’s fuck you disposition was plainly written across the front of his apron.

“I’m back from Kentucky! You miss me?”

“Didn’t know you left. What you want to eat?”

“We’ll take two sacks,” Ginny ordered cheerfully.

Reaper gave her a side-eye. Was she on fucking valium?

The big man didn’t move away to start the order. “Who’s the new shadow?”

“Marty, this is Gavin. Gavin, Marty.” Ginny gave a wave of her hand between the two men.

“Reaper,” Reaper corrected her.

Ginny continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “He’s a friend of mine from Kentucky.”

The men critically sized each other up, neither extending their hands at the introduction.

“What happened to sunglasses and bozo?”

The snide comment had Reaper arching a brow in Ginny’s direction.

“He means Shade and Rider,” Ginny explained to him before answering Marty’s question. “They stayed home. Shade is expecting a new baby, and Rider wanted to spend more time with his family also. They left Gavin to fill their shoes.”

“He doesn’t look happy about it.”

“No, he doesn’t. I’m hoping one of your burgers will make it worth the trip for him.”

Marty rolled his eyes at Ginny. “The boy has eyes. If just being with you doesn’t do that trick, my fucking burgers aren’t going to help.” Giving Reaper a disparaging once-over, the beefy man then jostled his heavy body to the side and behind the tight counterspace, bending over to take hamburgers and fries out of a small metal freezer.

The only way Reaper would touch any food that asswipe cooked was to shove it down that asshole’s throat, Reaper thought vindictively.

“Marty must be in a good mood.” Ginny grinned infectiously as if the asswipe couldn’t hear. Swiveling on her stool, she got up to go to a cooler along the wall. Sliding the glass open, she took out two sodas before coming back and placing one in front of him.

“Any water in there? I don’t drink soda.” Reaper pressed down on his feet, preparing to rise, when he heard a snort from the asswipe.

“Don’t have any fucking bottles of water.” Turning from the grill, Marty took a dull and cloudy plastic glass on a shelf before going to the sink and filling the glass with tap water. “Ocean has enough shit in it; don’t need more fucking water bottles.”

Reaper opened the can of soda as Marty went back to the grill and started flipping the burgers before dropping the fries in the fryer.

Reaper jerked his head to the side when he heard Ginny’s muffled laughter. “What’s so funny?”

She lowered her hand. “You are. He loves bugging his customers. You’re making his day.”

“It’s going be his last day if he doesn’t stop.”

“Boy, you couldn’t take me down with my hands tied behind my back.” Marty reached under the grill to take out two white bags, snapping each open.

Reaper watched as he put the buns on the grill to warm them, then started putting them together with the patties. His movements were quick and efficient as other customers started coming through the door.

“We made it just before the lunch rush hit,” Ginny enthused as the customers ordered, then went outside to wait for their numbers to be called to make room for others entering.

“Yippee. How come it’s called Dirty Dan’s instead of Marty’s?”

Ginny’s eyes almost bugged out of her head at his question. “Ixnay on asking …” Ginny tried to frantically call him off by waving a hand at her throat.

Smirking, Reaper ignored her. “The first owner die of food poisoning?”

It was one of the biggest mistakes of his life.

“I fucking wish.” Marty slammed the cash register closed, sending a customer hurrying out the door like a scalded cat.

“Dan is my ex-partner. Son of a bitch is the fucking reason I’m here flipping burgers instead of enjoying my retirement in the Bahamas.” Slamming more burgers on the sizzling grill, he continued his tirade. “Fuckhead stole forty grand from me and my wife. I hope his fucking dick rots off. Then my fucking cheating twat of a wife stole every last dime in the bank. Bitch even took my coin collection. I hope those tits I bought her shrink down to nuggets. Fucking bitch ….”

“I should have warned you not to mention Dan’s name,” Ginny whispered from out of the corner of her mouth.

Reaper glared at her as the profanity escalated from the grill.

“I’ll have to work another motherfucking twenty years before I can retire now.”

Ginny gave Marty an apologetic smile as he plopped two bags in front of them. With a thick hand, he then reached out to slide the ketchup and mustard bottles closer to them.

“Thank you, Marty. I’m sure Christy regrets her decision to leave you.”