REAPER (SERPENT'S MC: BOOK 3)

Chapter 5

🎵...THIS IS WHAT MAKES US GIRLS, WE ALL LOOK FOR HAVEN

AND WE PUT OUR LOVE FIRST...🎵 

***

OLIVIA

It's funny how only a simple scenery can freak the hell out of you.

Southside dock still looks dark and abandoned, used to the brutality that this town is. There's still town cops patrolling the area for a quick check to find gang members, druggies or breaking up club fights. The trailers, warehouses, run-down shops, that bloody pharmacy plus hospital...Everything looks the same. The same old town that used to make me smile once. 

Now I can't stop the goosebumps from covering my skin. 

It should have been so easier if it was Eastside. The houses don't scream danger in there. The people don't look at you like they know who you are. They don't look behind their shoulder every second for a fear of getting caught up in a raid or witness any murder. Considering where I am going...it's a common life lesson there. 

You do your own business  Agent Becker and you keep alive for the next day.

At least that's what the director said before he threw me an official document of my suspend letter and the details of this job which I would share with Hunter if not I screwed up. As if I was the one with a dick. Like he didn't have any say in having office sex with me. When he got only three months of suspension, I got five years. How the fuck was that fair?

"Mam, we are here." 

My body tenses instinctively hearing the cab driver. It was the director's idea to at least offer me some transport to reach the clubhouse. He has been paranoid about Lorenzo where I was paranoid for whole other reasons. 

I haven't been here for a long time. But some things are better forgotten. 

I give the driver his fare and he helps me bring my bags. Only two considering I was only here for three weeks tops. Less if I do my job right. Only when the cab leaves the pavement going towards the Eastside that I glance up to the clubhouse. 

It's considerably bigger than the other clubs here. No run-down warehouses near the building that I'm impressed with their cover. Almost. There's some graffiti with snakes in various form with the name Serpent's MC flashing over the rather dark night. Almost intimidating, as if to say back off before you get hurt! For security reason it's good. Too damn good with guards stationed near the entrance. My hands immediately come to pat the gun in my holster. 

I cross the road with bags in hand and approach the guards. If they noticed my lack of politeness, they don't comment on it. Instead one of them jerks his chin towards me, giving me a moment to calm down.

"Do you have a permit to enter?" 

I fish out the papers from my handbag, showing them the permit and my badge. "Agent Becker. There's should have been a call from my headquarter. Where's your president?"

Fuck. Wrong thing to say. His eyes flash to an angry tilt before he's barking orders to someone inside. It doesn't take long for two people to come out. Even I don't want to admit it but the man is hard to miss with a hint of tattoos over his neck. And I know how the clubhouse looks just like its owner. With a plain white shirt and jeans, he looks intimidating with his arms crossed over each other. He has black hair and hazel eyes narrowing at the direction at me that I almost miss a woman behind him walking faster towards me. 

Even in the dark, her face is hard to not notice. She has scars, burned marks all over her left cheeks alongside her left ear. It's the woman that gives me a welcoming smile. "Hello, you must be Agent Becker. This is Lethal, President of the club and I'm Vixen, Vice-President of the club."