Reaper's Property (Reapers MC #1)

by Joanna Wylde

  “What happened to her?” I asked, and then bit my lip. The booze had apparently dissolved the filter between my brain and my mouth.

  “Breast cancer,” she said, clearly not wanting to talk about it. “Long time ago. Let’s get shots.”

  “Sounds good,” I replied, following her out the door. Painter stood outside, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, looking bored. I grabbed Em’s arm and pulled her into me.

  “Why does he have to be here?” I stage-whispered. “Are they afraid I’ll run away or something?”

  “Oh it’s not personal. They send someone with us every time we go out,” she said, shrugging. “Usually a prospect, but every once in a while Ruger tags along. He’s fun. They don’t want anyone bothering us. That way we can party and they know we’re safe. It’s no big deal, at least not for you because you already have a man. For me, it sucks.”

  “So all old ladies get watched all the time?” I asked. “Isn’t that creepy?”

  She laughed and shrugged.

  “Mostly just when we go out at night,” she said. “It’s a security thing. There are a lot of clubs and not all of them are friends to the Reapers. This is their way of making sure nobody hassles us. Knowing we have a sober ride home. It’s great, unless you’re looking to lose your virginity.”

  I giggled and she glared at me, which made me giggle more as we headed back out onto the main floor. Then I stopped, because a tall man wearing Reaper leathers suddenly blocked my path. I looked up, trying to focus. Max.

  “Hey, Max,” said Em. “What are you doing here?”

  “Just felt like getting a drink,” he said, looking us over with a gleam of approval in his expression. We looked good and Max noticed. Nice. “Talked to Painter, heard you ladies were here. Thought I’d offer to buy a round. You look great tonight.”

  “You’re too sweet,” she replied, smiling up at him flirtatiously. He smiled back, and I wondered if there might be a little more going on with Max and Em than I realized. Painter came up next to us, standing tall as he and Max shared a look. Then Painter shook his head and stepped back, and he didn’t look happy about it.

  That was interesting.

  Max followed us back to the table, where Maggs put him in his place, telling him to buy us drinks and stay out of our way, “because it’s laaadddieess niiighhttt!” Everyone howled with approval as he grinned and took orders, bringing back a round of shots. Despite my earlier conviction that I needed more booze, looking at the little cup of vodka made me feel sick, so I pulled out my phone to see what time it was. Almost two. Horse had texted about four hours ago.

  Going to the Line with the guys. Don’t wait up.

  The Line. Why did that sound familiar? My brain was all fogged up.

  “What’s the Line?” I asked Cookie, who sat next to me. She’d put on a leather vest before coming into the bar, and her patches said “Property of Bagger, Reapers MC.” The whole property thing still made me uncomfortable but she seemed happy enough wearing it. And Cookie wasn’t exactly oppressed. I’d figured that out by chatting between the Jello shots she poured down my throat. She was way too busy running her coffee shop and taking care of her and Bagger’s three-year-old daughter to be oppressed.

  “Oh that’s the club’s titty bar,” she said. “Makes a fortune, although those strippers can be such sluts. But some of them are okay. I always tell Bagger I’m gonna start working there while he’s deployed and it pisses him off. I love doing that.”

  “What are you talking about?” yelled Darcy from across the table.

  “The Line!” Cookie yelled back.

  Darcy got a huge grin on her face. “We should go there!”

  “What?” I asked, startled. Cookie clapped her hands.

  “Oh that’s a great idea!” she said. “We can play on one of the poles. I need pictures for Bagger!”

  “Are you serious? Why would we go there?” I demanded, mystified.

  “Well, for one thing, if the guys are at the Line, it’s fun to show up without warning,” said Darcy, winking at me. “Scare ’em straight, you know? Plus it’s kind of interesting to watch the dancers. Some of them are really good, I’ve learned some excellent tricks from them. Boonie can testify to that.”

  She leaned over and gave Maggs a high five for emphasis.

  “Not to mention that if your man is gonna spend the night around naked bitches that aren’t you, it’s not a bad thing to make sure he brings his hard-on back home, you know?” added Maggs. That was a good point. I didn’t like the idea of Horse with another woman—I didn’t like it at all. I scowled down at the phone and the offending text.

  “And the shop has support merchandise,” she added. “I need to pick up a new tank top. Gonna go see Bolt this week, want to give him something to look forward to.”

  “Oh, I hate that place,” whined Em. “And if Dad’s there I’ll have to watch some stripper rub all over him and it’s gross. No girl should have to watch her dad screw so many different women, especially when he won’t let me date anyone at all! I’d rather go home.”

  “Have Painter give you a ride,” said Max, coming up behind me and leaning against the back of my chair. He was kind of in my space, but nobody else seemed to notice so I just scooted forward, frowning. “It’s almost last call anyway. I’ll take everyone else to the Line, give him a break.”

  Dancer smiled at him.

  “That’s sweet, Max,” she said. “Let’s do it.”

  Ten minutes later I was crammed in the back of her car with the others, Max following us on his bike. I expected Em to complain about catching a ride home with Painter, but she seemed happy enough with the situation. That surprised me—I thought I’d caught a hint of something between her and Max earlier. Apparently I’d imagined it.

  It was almost two-thirty in the morning when we pulled up to the strip club. We stumbled and giggled our way across the parking lot, which was mostly empty. Then the sign flickered and turned off.

  “It’s closed,” I said, stopping in my tracks. “We can’t go in.”

  “Oh that’s the best part,” Darcy said, grinning at me. “It’s closed to the public, but we aren’t the public, babe. We can party as long as we want.”

  “What about the dancers?” I asked dumbly. Max laughed behind me, putting a hand on the small of my back and pushing me forward.

  “Don’t worry about them,” he said. “They’re not old ladies. They won’t get in your way.”

  “Last time we were here, Dancer got up on stage and showed us her moves,” said Cookie, giggling. “It kicked ass. Well, it kicked ass for everyone but Horse. He looked kinda sick to his stomach.”

  “I’m sober this time,” Dancer replied. “It’s your turn tonight.”

  “You know, I think I will,” said Cookie with a grin. “I could do a little show in one of the private rooms. You film it for me and I’ll send it to Bagger on the computer. He’s always asking me to send him pictures. This’ll blow his mind!”

  “He’ll definitely blow something,” Maggs replied, cackling.

  A big black guy stood guard by the bar’s main entrance. He let us in without a word. I’d been inside with Horse the day before, but things were different tonight. For one, the lights were dim, which gave the whole place a completely different feel. Sort of murky and dirty. There were a few waitresses bussing tables and two bartenders restocking and cleaning up. A man wearing a Reapers’ cut sat in a booth counting money. Music still played and the center stage held one dancer working the pole. Below her sat several of the guys nursing beers, including Picnic, Ruger, Bam Bam, Boonie and a couple of others. I didn’t see Horse.

  “Hey, baby,” yelled Darcy, sauntering down toward them. Just like the night before, Boonie’s face lit up when he saw her and he stood, turning his back on the naked chick slithering around the pole. He wrapped his arms around Darcy and they fell into another of those all-consuming kisses, oblivious to the world. Dancer and Bam Bam were a little more subdued with
their greeting, but they disappeared off into a darkened booth without a backward glance.

  “Fuck, I miss that,” muttered Cookie, and I glanced over to see tears in her eyes.

  “Buck up, bitch,” said Maggs, giving her a little punch on the shoulder. “You wanna make a porno for your boy, you can’t be crying in it. That’s not his kink—unless you’ve been holding out on us?”

  Cookie laughed, shaking off her melancholy with a visible force of will. These were strong women, I decided. Really strong women. I could learn from them.

  “You know I draw the line at soft-core, no fetish stuff,” Cookie replied, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. “I’m gonna get drinks. Maggs, show the newbie where the VIP rooms are, will ya? And make sure it’s wiped down before I strut my stuff. My man likes his girls clean and tight, no sloppy seconds!”

  She gave a little shimmy and we whooped, clapping. Maggs pointed me across the floor to a long, dark hallway.

  “Rooms are over there, sugar,” she said. “I left my phone in the car, and I’m definitely gonna need my own personal copy of this for blackmail purposes. See you in a few.”

  She pushed me toward the rooms. I crossed the floor to the hallway, feeling awkward as all get out. Dark doors lined the both sides of the hall, all of them closed. I had no idea what I’d find inside and exploring on my own felt weird. I decided to wait for Maggs. Then Max strolled up, offering me that same friendly smile he’d worn at the bar.

  “You lost?” he asked. I shook my head.

  “Not so much lost as a little out of my depth,” I admitted. “I guess Cookie’s gonna have us film her dancing for Bagger. She said to find a room, but I’m afraid to just start opening doors.”

  “No prob,” he said, shrugging casually, although his eyes held a pleased gleam. “Follow me.”

  Something felt off. My instincts said I shouldn’t follow him, but I couldn’t think of a reason not to and I was still pretty drunk. My drunken instincts weren’t so hot—Gary’d asked me to marry him after I’d just killed a six-pack, and I’d thought that was a dandy idea.

  Max pointed me toward the last door on the right side of the hall, which had a little green light glowing above it. I hesitantly walked over and pushed it open. It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the darkness and soft red light. Then I saw Horse sitting on a black leather couch against the wall, arms stretched out along the back. His shirt was off and an almost-naked, bleached-blonde woman straddled him. Her hips writhed against his and when she turned to look at us, I saw she had giant, obviously fake boobs. She wore a blue, sparkly G-string and nothing else.

  Horse met my wide, frozen eyes and glared.

  “What the fuck are you doing here? Thought this was ladies’ night.”

  “Nothing,” I whispered, stepping back and very carefully shutting the door. I felt brittle, fragile, like I was going to break apart into a thousand pieces. I don’t know why. It wasn’t like we had a real relationship. I didn’t own him. But seeing him with another woman—that hurt me deep down inside. I bumped into Max, who caught my arms and steadied me. I looked up at him, devastated, and he wore an expression I couldn’t begin to describe.

  “Did you know he was in there?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Max replied. His easy response, completely unapologetic, threw me.

  “You set me up?” I whispered. “Why?”

  “Because you’re living in a fucking dream world and the girls were filling your head with shit. I can be a dick, but not as big a dick as he’s being. Thought you had a right to know.”

  I tried to think. Unfortunately, everything was spinning around me.

  “I didn’t do it to hurt you, Marie,” Max said, pulling me in for a rough hug. I stiffened, then relaxed into him, needing the comfort. He rubbed my hair, combing it with his fingers.

  “You’re a sweet kid and you’re in a really fucked-up situation,” he said, not unkindly. “You need to keep your head straight. Horse is not your old man, you’re not going to live happily ever after with him and your brother isn’t going to come through for you. The faster you figure that out, the better your life is going to be. That’s the truth.”

  I pulled away from Max and glanced back at the door, willing Horse to open it, to come out and explain that this was all just some sort of mistake. He didn’t. The green light taunted me.

  “You want a ride home?” Max asked.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Okay.”

  He took my arm and went to the fire door, quickly punching a code into a keypad on the side. A tiny red light blinked green and he pushed through the door. I followed him across the parking lot to his bike. My phone started vibrating and I looked down to see Horse’s name on the screen.

  I turned it off.

  The ride seemed to last forever, and I was pretty much sober by the time we reached the house. Ariel ran out to greet us, smiling his big puppy grin, but I didn’t pet him so he whined and crawled under the porch. Max surprised me when he left his bike and followed me into the house. I guess I expected him to just drop me off or something. It felt strange and awkward with him there, and I wished I could be alone.

  “You want a drink?” I asked, hoping he’d say no.

  “Yeah, grab me a beer,” he replied, pulling out his phone. I left him fiddling with it while I found a beer for him and a glass of water for myself. As I came back down the hall he met me halfway, taking the drinks and walking into the dining room. He set them on the pool table and cocked his head to the side, studying me again.

  “Why are you doing that?” I asked.

  “Doing what?”

  “Looking at me like that?”

  “Trying to decide what the fuck Horse is thinking,” he replied. “You don’t need to be with him, Marie. This is fucked up. You should let me help you.”

  “Help me how?”

  Instead of answering, he leaned down and threw me over his shoulder. I shrieked, hitting him on the back and kicking. Max ignored my struggles, carrying me back into the living room and throwing me down on to the couch. I hit hard and lost my breath. Before I could recover he was on me, thrusting a knee between my legs, covering my mouth with his. I struggled against him, but I shouldn’t have bothered. Way too strong for me. His legs pinned me, pelvis grinding into mine as his arms wrestled my own into the couch. His kiss wasn’t sensual, just a brutal attack. No tongue, no seduction. Just a crushing of his lips against my mouth. I seriously couldn’t breathe and my vision started going dark.

  “Oh, no fucking way. You’re a dead man.”

  I heard Horse’s angry voice and felt a surge of hope. Then Max flew off me so abruptly I almost rolled off the couch. Horse threw him across the room into the wall, missing the TV by about six inches. I screamed as Horse leapt after him, hammering him with his fists. Max writhed under the onslaught, but he started laughing, the sound horrible and dark and oddly punctuated by the blows slamming his body. A loud, clicking noise cut through his laughter and I looked up to find Picnic aiming a gun at the two men.

  Horse didn’t pause.

  “Horse!” Picnic said. “Drop him or I’ll shoot you.”

  Horse gave Max one last, vicious punch to the gut before he stepped back, chest heaving. Max rose to his feet unsteadily, grinning at Horse in a way that was truly unbalanced. Now I got the whole “Mad Max” thing…

  “You got a problem, brother?” Max asked as he wiped the blood streaming from his nose with the back of his hand. “Your bitch didn’t seem to think so. Practically jumped into my arms at the Line. I’ll admit she’s a sweet cunt, but is she really worth fighting over?”

  “Shut your mouth,” Picnic said, stepping forward. “You don’t talk to a brother that way. And you don’t fuck around with a fellow Reaper’s woman. We’ll deal with this at the Armory tomorrow. You got that?”

  Max laughed again. Then he turned to me and stuck two of his fingers in a “v” in front of his mouth, flicking his tongue between them at me.

&nbs
p; “You asshole!” I shouted, filled with sudden rage. “You fucking asshole, you get out of here! Get the fuck out of here and don’t fucking come back or I’ll fucking shoot you myself!”

  All three guys froze, looking at me in surprise. I sneered back at them, disgusted.

  “What, surprised that the bone you’re fighting over can talk? Well fuck all of you!”

  With that I turned and stomped up the stairs to my room, slamming the door behind me. Moments later bikes roared to life outside. I paced my room for a minute, furious and full of energy, then threw my door open and headed back downstairs.

  I had a few more things I wanted to get off my chest.

  Horse was standing in the center of the living room, running a hand through his hair as he scowled at the splatters of blood staining his floor. He turned toward me, and we glared at each other across the room, neither of us giving an inch. I was still a little drunk, but I’d had it. Time to lay things out with Horse. I opened my mouth to let him have it, but he started in first.

  “Who the fuck you do think you are, showing up at the Line like that?” he demanded. “And why did Max have his tongue down your throat?”

  Oh, that really pissed me off.

  “You don’t get to talk about tongues down throats, asshole,” I hissed. “And for your information, I was at the Line because your sister took me there. I guess it didn’t occur to her that you’d be screwing some slut in the back room!”

  “I wasn’t screwing anyone. It was a lap dance. No big deal,” he said, eyes narrowing on me.

  “So sorry I interrupted you before you got to the happy ending!” I yelled. I didn’t think I’d ever been this angry before in my life. The edges of my vision actually turned red. I felt like throwing things at him, and I glanced around, trying to find something with a good heft. Horse stalked over, looming over me as he yelled in my face, backing me toward the wall.

  “Why the fuck shouldn’t I have a happy ending? It’s not like I have an old lady to worry about! No, not me!” he declared, throwing his arms wide, speaking to the room at large. “I don’t have an old lady, now do I? Nope, because you’re too fucking good to wear my patch, now aren’t you? What haven’t I done for you, Marie? I kept your brother alive. Didn’t come cheap, babe, you got no clue how pricey your ass is. And tonight? It’s not like you were around to take care of me, was it? We had plans and you blew me off. You can’t have it both ways, Marie. Either we’re together or we’re not, but if we’re not don’t expect me to sit around with my thumb up my ass while you’re out partying. And this bullshit with Max? In my own home? I should throw your ass out and call the hit on your brother myself. You can go fuck yourself, Marie. Seriously. I’m done with you.”