by Joanna Wylde
“Did they get Marie?” he demanded, but it came out in a whisper. Fucking pussy, he couldn’t even talk. He hated feeling weak.
“Marie is safe,” Picnic said, stepping into Horse’s line of sight. Horse studied his face to make sure the man wasn’t lying to him. “She’s in jail right now. Our guy’s arranging bail. He says that if the ballistics match her story, they probably won’t charge her with anything. She’d be out already, but they’re pissed that she’s stonewalling about why her brother and Max were fighting.”
“Jail?” he asked, confused.
“Marie shot Max,” Picnic said, his face grim. Horse wrinkled his forehead. “Ruger’s in there too. Hands covered in blood, so they arrested him. He had to tackle your girl to get the gun away from her. She’d gone all Pulp Fiction on us, ready to defend you by killing all of us if she had to. Crouched over your body like Wonder Woman. Gives me a boner just thinking about it.”
“You’re the asshole. Why would she shoot Max?” Horse asked, every word grating against his sore throat. Had the bullet hit his mouth, for fuck’s sake? Why couldn’t he talk right?
“Max shot you in the back,” Picnic said shortly. “And then he shot Jensen. Marie was probably next—she told our guy that Max was getting ready to finish you off when she took him out. Kid is like a fucking commando, never saw that coming. Shot him seven times.”
“Fuck,” Horse muttered, feeling himself smile. “Damn, that’s amazing. My girl’s a one-woman army.”
“No shit,” Picnic said, shaking his head. “Took care of business, no question about that. Hey, gotta ask you something important.”
“What’s that?”
Picnic leaned over and spoke softly.
“Cops found all kinds of papers,” he said. “No idea what was in them, but Marie told the lawyer they were talking about money transfers. Jensen said it was all set up. Could we be in trouble?”
Horse wrinkled his forehead, trying to think.
“I changed everything after we found out about Jensen,” he said. “New accounts, the whole thing, a lot more than just passwords and shit like that. Shouldn’t have been traceable.”
“Wonder what he was talking about?”
Horse searched his memory, which was way too hard. Must be on drugs, he realized. Something hovered just out of reach, something he knew was important. Then it came to him.
“We’re good,” he said, smiling.
“How’s that?”
“Max was in the office the last time I printed out a list of the overseas account numbers and contact information,” he said. “Told him I was making dupes for the lockbox. Probably left to take a piss or something and he copied them. Bet he thought he’d hit the jackpot.”
“Tell me that isn’t as bad as it sounds, bro.” Horse tried to shake his head, but it didn’t work.
“They were dummies,” he replied, savoring the moment. “You know I like to fuck with the cops. Couple times a year I update my fake accounts and ledgers, make ’em realistic enough that if we ever get raided they’ll be chasing their tails for months. I never told Jensen, and Max sure as fuck wouldn’t know. Max gave him accounts with about five grand in them. Just enough to trick someone trying to do a test transfer, you know? Little game I like to play, extra insurance… guess it worked out.”
“Jesus Christ… Thank fuck for that,” Picnic said.
“Nope, not Jesus, just a man,” Horse whispered. “Although when women see my dick for the first time, they’ve been known to fall down on their knees and worship me.”
Picnic laughed.
“Yeah, you’re gonna live,” he said. “Ego’s too big to die. Cops’ll want to talk to you at some point. Tell ’em you can’t remember anything beyond being at the party, lawyer says a traumatic head injury can make you forget the hours right before it happened. Yours hit the ground when he shot you. That’ll get you off the hook and drive ’em crazy at the same time. I’m gonna call the nurse now, let them know you’re awake.”
“Wait,” Horse said. “Tell me about the Jacks. I miss anything?”
“Nothing yet,” Picnic replied. “We’ll keep an eye on them—this is just getting started. War’s coming. Doubt your girl’ll be their target, though. Not worth their time to range this far out of their territory if they aren’t getting paid.”
Horse heard the room door open, and the sounds of a busy hallway behind it.
“Hey, Picnic, I just went down to grab a drink,” Dancer said as she walked in.
Horse managed to open his eyes again and look at her. She froze, eyes wide, then her face exploded in a huge smile as she rushed to the bed. She leaned over to give him a hug, pulling back at the last minute with a grimace. Thank god for that, a hug right now and he’d probably need another gallon of whatever painkiller they’d given him.
“Horse! I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up. How do you feel? Can he talk?”
“You look like shit,” Horse said. “What’s wrong with you?”
“My brother got shot, you douche,” she said. “I thought you were going to die. Marie saved your life, did he tell you that?”
“Yeah,” Horse said, closing his eyes again. Fuck, but he was tired.
“Fuckin’ pansy,” Picnic said, and Horse heard him laugh, as if from a distance. “Damn woman had to protect him, lazy asshole wouldn’t even get up off the ground. Dripping blood, making a mess…”
Horse opened his mouth to tell him to fuck off, but before the words came he was out again.
Epilogue
Yakima Valley, Eastern Washington
Five Months Later
Marie
I drove past our old elementary school on the way to the church. Jeff and I loved that playground—in the summer Mom would drop us off there before heading in to work a block away. We’d check in with her every couple of hours, feeling very mature. The familiar ache of sorrow and loss hit me, a stealth attack.
I missed him.
Jeff’d been messed up, way more messed up than I’d realized, but that didn’t change that he was my brother, or that I’d watched him die right in front of my eyes. At least the nightmares were getting better. For the first few weeks I’d been terrified to sleep, because he’d visit me at night, accusing me of killing him while his brains dribbled out his mouth. Thankfully, I hadn’t had one of those nightmares for two months now, and most days I didn’t even think of him.
Today wasn’t like other days, though.
I pulled into the parking lot and grabbed my dress bag. Mom was going to be pissed—I was supposed to be there almost forty-five minutes ago, but I’d been delayed. The church coordinator glared at me as I walked in, then she grabbed my arm and rushed me downstairs to the bathroom. There I found my mother looking like a dream in an elegant, Grecian-style, peach-colored wedding dress.
“Oh Mama,” I said, feeling tears spring to my eyes. “You look so beautiful. John’s gonna die when he sees you.”
Her face crumpled at the word “die” and I swore under my breath. Mom was fragile these days and I still wasn’t sure how to deal with that. I was used to her being the strong one, because she’d suffered so much and always survived. Now I’d become the strong survivor.
“You need to get dressed,” she said, forcing herself to smile again. Joanie, her longtime beautician, clucked at Mom to sit down so she could finish up her makeup. Her hair was already done, swept up in keeping with the Grecian style, little ribbons woven through it along with fresh flowers.
An hour later we waited in the back of the church. The last of the guests were inside and then John came out to stand at the altar. The music started and I reached over to take Mama’s hand, squeezing it. John’s daughter, Carla, walked ahead of us carrying white lilies. She was hard to read, and I still wasn’t quite sure how she felt about our families being joined. I guess it didn’t matter, because she wanted her dad to be happy and that was enough to make her overlook our oddities. The wedding march started and I took Mama’s hand to
give her away.
It should have been Jeff’s job.
I wondered if he could see us from wherever people go after they die. I hoped he knew Mama was finally happy. Then I stopped thinking about Jeff because the stunned, almost worshipful look on John’s face as we came down the aisle filled my heart. I put their hands together, popping up on my toes to kiss first his cheek and then hers. I liked him. I liked him a lot, actually. He adored my mother and the feeling was mutual.
Stepping back, I took my spot next to her as maid of honor. The minister started talking and that’s when I let myself look over at Horse for the first time. He stood strong and tall next to John’s grown son, Paul. They wore matching tuxes, which I’d never imagined Horse would be willing to tolerate. He’d done it with grace, though, telling me I’d find a way to pay him back.
I blushed, because that’s why I’d been late.
He’d already started “collecting.”
They held the reception in the old Eagles lodge, where John was a lifelong member. Their first dance together was beautiful, and somehow Mama resisted the urge to smash cake on John’s face. She hadn’t been married to my father, so this was her first wedding. That seemed to please John in some weird way. I guess he liked the idea of being her only husband.
Horse held my hand all through dinner, stealing little glances at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. It made me a little nervous—I knew him well enough to realize he was up to something. That could be very good. Once when he’d gotten that look, he’d taken me up to Canada for a surprise weekend at a gorgeous bed-and-breakfast.
Of course, last week I’d seen that look on his face the instant before Maggs dumped a bucket of water on me from the second floor of the Armory.
I was talking to Denise next to the dance floor when he struck, throwing me over his shoulder and carrying me out of the room to cheers and whistles. My mom’s voice was the loudest, something we’d be having words about later. I squawked as he hauled me up the stairs and out onto the roof. Then he set me down and I saw a blanket covered with red rose petals.
My eyebrows raised.
“I get that this is probably some romantic gesture, but what have you done with my old man?” I demanded, looking at him with narrowed eyes. “This isn’t your style, babe.”
Horse grinned, looking almost sheepish. Wow. Didn’t know Reapers could do sheepish.
“Your mom’s idea,” he said. “She said I couldn’t be trusted not to fuck things up. This is the price I paid to keep her from following us up here. C’mon.”
He took my hand and led me over to the blanket, standing in front of me and kissing my lips very softly. Then to my utter shock he lowered himself to one knee and took my hand.
“I feel like an asshole because this is so corny,” he said, shaking his head. He started to get back up and I grabbed his shoulders, pushing them down hard.
“Ouch,” he said, glaring at me.
“Just say it,” I burst out, glaring back at him. “Don’t make me get my gun.”
“Fuck, am I ever going to live that down?” he asked, shaking his head. “You know they’re calling me your bitch at the Armory now, does that make you happy?”
“I’m aware. Not my fault I had to save your big, bad, biker ass. You know what they say with guys who—”
“Shut the fuck up, Marie,” Horse said, rolling his eyes. “You gonna let me do this or what?”
“Okay,” I replied, feeling a little giddy. Sure it was corny, but it also kicked ass.
“Marie Caroline Jensen, will you do me the honor of being my permanent bitch?”
I smacked him on the side of his head as he burst out laughing, then aimed my foot for his nuts. He grabbed me, shoving me down onto the blanket and covering me with his body, still shaking with laughter.
“You’re going to ruin my dress.”
“I guess your mom was right—I am fucking this up.”
“Do it right or I’ll say no.”
“Marie Caroline Jensen, will you marry me?” he asked suddenly, looking right into my eyes. I bit my lip, trying to decide how long to drag it out. Maybe a little longer… He’d used the “b” word, I should probably make him suffer. I looked away, refusing to meet his eyes as he stopped laughing and grew still.
“Marie?” he asked, his voice suddenly strained. “Oh fuck, don’t do this to me, please. I—”
“Yes,” I said, catching his eye and smirking. “I’ll marry your big, dumb ass but only because you said the magic word.”
“Fuck? You’re right, that is a magic word. Let’s test it out.”
I burst out laughing, which only lasted for a few seconds before his mouth took mine, kissing me deeply. I felt the length of his erection between my legs, and realized that whatever damage he’d already done to my outfit was probably just the beginning.
Horse stopped kissing me long enough to lift himself and pull up my dress. That’s when he discovered I’d left my panties off. He growled in approval as I giggled, covering his face with kisses while he fumbled with his fly. Then his cock was out and pressing into me, sliding into my wet depths with a singular focus that drove me crazy.
Horse thrust into me over and over, touching me deeper than I’d ever imagined possible back when I was married to Gary. I wrapped my legs up and around his waist, holding him to me and tilting my pelvis just the right way to make the most of his hard length.
“Can’t believe you’re stupid enough to marry me,” Horse muttered, sitting up and lifting my hips, one of my favorite positions because now every stroke drew the round lip of his cock head across my G-spot with a force that drove me insane. He knew it, too, and he grinned at me as I flew over the edge, moaning and arching my back. Two more strokes and he followed, spurting deep inside.
We came down together, panting under the stars, the faint sound of Mom’s reception floating up from the open windows below. After what seemed like forever, Horse sat up and I joined him, pulling down my dress as demurely as possible, considering I’d just been fucked senseless on a roof. I brought my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, looking out over the lights of the valley.
“No second thoughts, right?” he asked.
“No second thoughts,” I said, feeling warm and happy all over. Then I held up my left hand. “Did you forget something?”
Horse smiled at me, looking very pleased with himself again.
“Yeah, I brought it for you.” He stood up and walked over to one of the rooftop air conditioning units. He grabbed a small, black bag and brought it back to me, dropping down onto the blanket. Then he reached in and pulled out a box.
A too-big box.
I narrowed my eyes and took it from him to discover that—in addition to being too big for a ring—it was way too heavy. I opened it and found a large, semi-automatic black pistol.
“It’s a .38,” he said proudly. “I know you’re a .22 girl, but it’s time for us to take the next step in our relationship. I think if you start practicing you’ll get used to the feel of it. This is a great piece because—”
“I swear if you say one more word I’m shooting you,” I growled, thoroughly disgusted. Of course he’d buy me an engagement gun.
Stupid biker.
“At least take it out of the box and see how it feels in your hand.”
I shrugged and picked it up, wondering how many anniversaries we’d have before I needed my own private bunker to store my weapons. But as I pulled it out, a beautiful, sparkling silver engagement ring came with it, tied to the trigger with a short thread. It was gorgeous, not so big that it was tasteless, but still absolutely stunning. It held a large blue sapphire with small diamonds on either side. I loved it instantly. Horse pulled it loose and I held out my hand for him to put it on. Then he took my chin and looked right in my eyes.
“Love you, babe. Are you still planning to shoot me?”
“Love you, too,” I replied, grinning at him. “I haven’t decided yet about shooting you,
though. I’ll get back to you on that.”
“So you want to stay up here a little longer, just the two of us? Or do you want to go downstairs and show your mom your new bling?”
I laughed at him, leaning against his side as he wrapped an arm around me.
“Does it make me a horrible, shallow person that I want to go flash this thing around to everyone?”
“I’m fine with that,” he replied, kissing the top of my head. “Then you need to call Maggs and Em—it took everything I had to keep them from crashing the reception. They’re having a party for us when we get back to Coeur d’Alene. Picnic wants you to make potato salad. I told him no fucking way you’re cooking for your own engagement party.”
“Really?” I asked. He shook his head.
“Naw, I told him I’d do whatever it took to make it happen. Love that shit. It’s the bacon that really sets it apart.”
“Baby!” my mom squealed, rushing out onto the roof. John followed her, along with Denise. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t wait. Tell me all about it! Did he screw it up?”
“Go on, go to your mom,” Horse said, rolling his eyes. He stood and took my hand, lifting me to my feet. Then he smacked my ass, pushing me toward my mother and her new husband. “But when she’s done with you, I’m taking you home to celebrate.”
I lifted to my toes to kiss him and then ran over to show Mama my new ring. I decided to leave the gun with Horse.
At least for now.
Bonus: Reaper’s Fire Excerpt
Tinker
It was almost seven that evening when I felt the AC kick back on. I’d been lying on my back on the (relatively) cool tile floor behind the counter, staring up at the pressed-tin ceiling and trying to remember why I hadn’t already moved back to Seattle.
In Seattle it rained.
Cool breezes blew off the bay and the lush greenery covered everything with its shaded canopy. People didn’t really need air-conditioning, but if they happened to have it and it broke, there were lots of repair men available.