“Flordia.”
“Keep me posted and call the Chapter down in Miami and let Toxic know. Send him what you can and tell him I will be sending some help. Vicious, Bayou, Hammer, you boys head to Flordia.”
“Sure thing, Boss.”
“You can leave in the morning. Phantom set it up,” Reaper ordered. “Bullseye, you up for another assignment?”
“Yeah, no problem.” I grinned, eager to get back to work.
“I know you generally work alone, but not this time. I’m assigning Massacre, Savage, and Chains to go with you.”
Savage and Chains smiled. “Party time.”
Sighing, Reaper growled then pointed at them both. “Not party time. If you two fuckers get into trouble again, your ass is grass. You hear me?”
“Sure, boss,” both men said in unison as Massacre, and I just shook our heads. Those two idiots were famous for finding trouble in the middle of a padded room. They couldn’t be trusted together, ever.
“All right, anything else?” Reaper asked.
“What about Ghost?” Shadow asked, slipping back into the room. He was concerned. We all were, but Shadow was his brother, real brother, and since Ari, he’d been taking care of Becca, Ghost’s daughter. Shadow didn’t mind one bit, but we all knew it wasn’t him that Becca really needed. She wanted her daddy.
Reaper sighed. Yeah, Ghost was a touchy subject. No one really liked talking about him, but he was still one of us, and we all cared about him. “He’s still the same.”
None of us said anything. What was there to say. The man lost the love of his life. He was heartbroken, destroyed. We didn’t know if he would ever snap out of it or if he would be the same man. Nobody knew anything. All we could do was wait until Ghost told us differently.
“Okay, I need this room cleared. Bullseye stay.”
With that, the room emptied. While I was still having a hard time digesting everything Phantom just said, I could tell something was bothering Reaper bad. It was eating him alive. This whole mess was fucked up, and when Ghost found out what his brother did, he was going to go ballistic. Hell, it was taking everything in me not to go hunting. I didn’t know if I could find him, but I was willing to give it a shot.
I hated the fact that he was still out there, possibly hurting someone else. Men like him needed to be eradicated, destroyed. There were no second chances in my book. They were all scum and deserved to die for their crimes.
I waited patiently for Reaper to say what he needed to say. He was still acting off, but I figured with all the shit going down in the club, the man was allowed to have a few bad days.
“You gonna be okay to do this assignment?”
“Yeah,” I asked, not sure where he was going. Healer cleared me medical-wise last week. My leg wasn’t at one hundred percent yet, but I knew in time it would be. I just didn’t need to overdo it. Though I didn’t see how riding my bike across the country and helping out another club take down some traffickers would be a problem. Fuck, all I did was hide and shoot the bad guys. There was no danger to me at all.
“Good,” he said and nodded.
“You still want me to grab Wagner? I can get him without any help.”
“No. He’s already been dealt with.”
“What’s going on with you? Generally, I don’t ask because I’ve got my own shit to deal with, but you’ve been acting weird lately.”
Ignoring my question, Reaper grinned. “Just relieved to see you up and walking around, brother. But seriously, I have another favor to ask of you.”
I chuckled. “I don’t know man. Last time you asked me to deviate, I lost two months of my life and damned near lost my leg.”
“It’s about Gri…,” Reaper scowled then cursed. “Fuck. It’s about Malachi.” I got it. I did. When a brother went down a dark path and embraced the devil's dealings or, worse, went against the club, they were excommunicated and generally killed. The only problem was we didn’t know where Malachi was, or Reaper would have already reaped his soul.
“What about him?”
“I need you to find him.”
Okay, that shocked me. I mean, I wanted that fucker dead, like everyone else, but he was in the wind. No trail to follow. “You heard Phantom. She and the others can’t even find him. What makes you think I can?”
“A gut feeling.”