Chapter 1

Ace

“If you keep staring at that picture, Reaper, I’m going to start thinking you’re in love.”

Reaper didn’t look up from his phone.

I leaned back in my chair, stretched my legs across the empty seat beside me, and took another bite of my burger. We’d been sitting in the clubhouse for the better part of twenty minutes, and my brother hadn’t said a damn word. Just stared at his phone with that same murderous expression he wore whenever somebody pissed him off.

Which, to be fair, was pretty much all the time.

“You’re staring at a woman,” I pointed out. “A beautiful woman, from what I can see. I ain’t judging you, brother. Love comes in many forms.”

“Shut the fuck up, Ace.”

“There he is.” I grinned. “I was starting to worry you’d lost your ability to communicate.”

Reaper finally lifted his eyes to mine. “Do you ever stop talking?”

“Not unless I’m eating, sleeping, or getting my dick wet.”

“Then I suggest you go do one of those things.”

I glanced down at my half-eaten burger. “Already handling the first one.”

His expression didn’t change.

God, I loved annoying this man.

Reaper and I had been brothers long enough that I knew most of his moods. The problem was that most people couldn’t tell the difference between his normal face and the expression he wore when he was planning to put someone in the ground. I’d learned to read the small things. The way his jaw tightened. The way his fingers tapped against the table. The look in his eyes when his mind was somewhere else.

Right now, he was thinking about Michael Sinclair.

Again.

It had been months since Sinclair slipped through our fingers, and Reaper hadn’t let it go. The bastard had managed to disappear before we could finish what we’d started, and ever since then, Reaper had been chasing every lead he could find.

I respected the determination.

I also thought he needed a fucking hobby.

“Any luck finding your favorite asshole?” I asked.

“No.”

“Have you tried asking nicely?”

Reaper stared at me.

“Right. Forgot who I was talking to.”

He turned his phone toward me and slid it across the table.

I looked down.

A woman stared back at me from the photograph. Long hair, pretty face, and a white doctor’s coat that did absolutely nothing to hide the fact that she was gorgeous. She looked like the sort of woman who had her life together, paid her bills on time, and probably alphabetized her spice rack.

In other words, nothing like the women I usually dealt with.

I picked up the phone for a closer look.

“Well, hello, sweetheart.”

“Her name is Daisy.”

I looked up. “You know her name?”

“Her first name.”

“And you have a picture of her.”

“Yes.”

I looked back at the photograph, then at Reaper.

A slow grin spread across my face.

“Brother, if you wanted dating advice, you could’ve just asked. I know a few tricks.”

“I’m going to break your fucking fingers.”

“That’s not a trick. That’s a crime.”

He snatched his phone back.

I laughed, earning myself another glare.

“Why are you showing me a picture of a woman you’ve been admiring in secret?” I asked. “And don’t tell me she’s your type. She’s far too pretty for you.”

Reaper leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table.

“I need you to follow her.”

My smile faded slightly.

“Follow her?”

“Find out where she goes, who she meets, and what she knows. Don’t approach her unless you have to.”

I studied him for a moment.

“You want me to stalk a doctor?”

“I want you to do me a favor.”

“Those words mean very different things to you than they do to normal people.”

“Are you going to do it or not?”

I took another bite of my burger while I considered the question. Following a beautiful woman around town wasn’t exactly the worst assignment I’d ever been given. Hell, it might even be entertaining.

But Reaper wasn’t the sort of man who sent people chasing strangers for fun.

“What makes you think she knows anything?” I asked.

His expression hardened.

“I’ve been following leads on Sinclair for months. Every time I get close, somebody disappears or the information dries up. Daisy’s name came up twice, and I found this picture. I don’t know who she is beyond that.”

“So you want me to find out.”

“Exactly.”

I nodded slowly, then glanced at the photograph again.

“One question, brother.”

Reaper looked at me like he already regretted asking for my help. “What?”

“Where the hell does she work?”

“She’s a doctor.”

I stared at him.

He stared back.

I slowly put my burger down. “That’s your answer?”

“What the fuck else do you want?”

“The name of the hospital, maybe? A street address? Something useful?” I waved a hand at his phone. “There are a shitload of hospitals around here, Reaper. You expect me to walk into every one of them asking for a pretty doctor named Daisy? Because I’m telling you now, that’ll get me thrown out of at least three before lunch.”

His jaw tightened.

I grinned. “You really thought this through, didn’t you?”

“I have the photograph. You’ll figure it out.”

“Wonderful. I love a challenge with absolutely no useful information.”

“You’re good at talking to people. Use that mouth for something productive for once.”

I pressed a hand to my chest. “Finally, someone appreciates my talents.”

I picked up my burger again, then paused as another thought occurred to me.

“Wait. Does the Prez know about this?”

Reaper’s eyes narrowed. “Know about what?”

I gestured between us. “This little secret mission. You sending me out to follow some woman because you think she might know something about Sinclair. Does he know you’re working this angle, or are we keeping it between us?”

“The Prez knows I’m still looking for Sinclair.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

Reaper leaned back in his chair. “I’m handling it.”

I stared at him for a moment before shaking my head.

“That’s club president for ‘I haven’t told him shit,’ isn’t it?”

“Watch your mouth.”

“Why? You going to break my fingers again? Because I’m running out of body parts to threaten me with.”

“I’m not hiding anything from the club. I just don’t have enough information to bring the Prez another dead end.”

That sounded more like Reaper. He wasn’t worried about getting caught doing something behind the club’s back. He was frustrated that months of searching had brought him nowhere, and he wasn’t about to waste the Prez’s time with another lead that might amount to nothing.

I could understand that.

Didn’t mean I had to let him off the hook.

“Fine,” I said. “But if this turns into something bigger, we tell him. I’m not getting my ass chewed out because you decided to play detective without giving the rest of us a heads-up.”

Reaper gave me a flat look. “Are you done?”

“For now.”

“Good.”

“You’re welcome, by the way. I think that was the most responsible thing anyone’s said to you all week.”

“Get her name, find out where she lives, and figure out who she’s connected to. Call me if anything looks suspicious.”

I raised two fingers in a lazy salute. “Yes, sir.”

“And Ace?”

I looked up.

“Don’t fuck this up.”

I pressed a hand to my chest, feigning offense.

“You wound me. When have I ever fucked anything up?”

Reaper stared at me for a long moment.