Havoc- Reapers MC Boxset

by Elizabeth Knox

  I might not have wanted to come here, but I know that it’s probably the best decision we could’ve made. Now I’m just wondering what the hell is going on at the club, especially with all of Widow’s bullshit.

  Widow

  Reapers MC Book 4

  PLAYLIST

  I WANNA KNOW – NOTD FT. BEA MILLER

  DON’T CALL ME UP (ACOUSTIC) – MABEL

  DON’T WORRY BOUT ME – ZARA LARSSON

  ALL THESE YEARS – CAMILA CABELLO

  SOS – AVICII FT. ALOE BLACC

  BITTER LOVE – PIA MIA

  Prologue

  STOP ASKING ME TO TRUST YOU WHILE I’M STILL COUGHING UP WATER FROM THE LAST TIME YOU LET ME DROWN. -HPLYRIKZ.COM

  Rebel

  8 years ago …

  “What’s the matter?” Rose, the youngest Raines girl asks me. I want to let out all of my hurt on someone, but that person can’t be this kid. Cause that’s all she is – a kid, barely twelve years old. I refuse to spit out my heartache on a little girl who must be looking forward to being in love, having a boyfriend and all the sweet parts of life that she thinks now exists.

  I will not be the person to tell her just how awful the world we live in is. That everything she thinks she’ll have is anything but one fucked up lie.

  Over the last twenty-four hours, I’ve been lied to a lot. Mostly, by my boyfriend, Widow. At this point I guess I can call him an ex … but it’s harder than it looks. I want to just get rid of him, toss him to the side like he didn’t sleep with one of these ratty clubwhores. I just can’t do that. Thing’s aren’t simple anymore to say in the least.

  I found out two days ago that I’m pregnant, and yesterday I heard my baby’s heartbeat for the very first time. I’m nowhere near ready to be a mom, but from what my friends have told me, one is never ready for this type of life change. I don’t believe in abortion. I respect women who want to make that decision, understanding that it’s what they need to do. But it’s not what I need to do.

  The only thing I need to do right now is work on my rela-tionship with Widow. For starters, I should probably tell him I’m pregnant.

  “Melody?” Rose says my name and I turn to her, plas-tering on a fake smile.

  I’ll fake it ‘til I make it if I have to. “Nothing, I just got caught up in my head for a minute.”

  “Well, you are always stuck in there.” Rose giggles. I wrap my arm around her and pull her into a side hug.

  “Yep, I sure am. I have to go handle some stuff though. I’ll be back a bit later, okay? Wanna rematch then?”

  Rose’s eyes widen as she smiles brightly. The two of us play checkers a couple times a week if I’m not too busy working. It may be silly that someone like me plays games with a kid, but I love it. It reminds me that there’s always time to sit back and relax, that I don’t always have to be in a rush all the time.

  Most days I spend at the small coffee shop that the Raines own in town. It’s where Rose comes after she gets out of school, and I’m just lucky that Quinn let me get a job here. It’s been good to get away from the club and put myself to work. With me being away from the club, Widow has gotten into a great deal of shit. I could be one of those typical women that say boys will be boys, but I think that’s a load of crap. It’s just an excuse for them to be royal assholes. Jesus, I hope whatever is growing in my tummy isn’t a boy. I’ll be fucked if he or she grows up to be anything close to its father. Widow is a handful by himself, I don’t need this baby to be too.

  Part of me wants to curse at myself, thinking that this has only happened because I haven’t been hovering around him. I constantly feel the need to remind myself that even if I was around, he’d be doing it with someone else, somewhere else. It’s not anything that I’ve done, and this isn’t my fault. It’s so hard to believe that sometimes though. It’s like my anxiety wants me to believe that the only reason he’s looking at another woman is because I’m not woman enough for him. It’s a total mindfuck.

  It’s just past six in the evening, and unlucky for us, we’ve just had a major snowstorm blow through. I love living in the Midwest, but I can’t tell you how much I hate driving when it’s snowing or icy out. Sometimes, I wish I grew up in another area because they can get away with not having to drive in the winter. I’m not so lucky. Instead, I must suffer and risk my life to drive from one place to the other.

  I make my way back to Widow’s house. It’s just on the outskirts of town, maybe two or three miles away from the club. I just made him move out here because I didn’t want temptation right in front of him. I bite my bottom lip, real-izing how ridiculous that sounds in my head. It’s not like I’m dating some burly biker. I’m dating a man who looks like he could take part in the WWE, and not one of the okay looking ones. Widow is John Cena hot. That’s part of my problem.

  I wonder if I give him a good swing into his chompers, if his looks will fade when he’s missing a few teeth. I shake my head to myself as I pull into a parking spot on the street. Knowing him, women will think it’s even hotter and want to know the story behind it.

  Parking the car, I pull my keys out of the ignition and grab my purse, heading straight up the stairs to his place. I call it his place, but it’s more our place since I’m here almost every night. When I’m not here, it’s usually because I’ve stayed at a friend’s house and we’ve had a little bit too much wine.

  When I get to the top of the stairs, I punch in the code to get past the door and then insert my key in the next door. Opening the door slowly, I hear his voice. It sounds grumbled and irritated, but as he continues talking, I realize he’s plas-tered. “Jesus, what the fuck am I doing?”

  I hear a giggle, and immediately I’m telling myself that it can’t be. That I must be mishearing her. This can’t be the one person I think it is. No, she’d never do this to me. “You said you wanted to s-sink your c-cock in me.”

  Fuck my life seriously. He’s not the only one who’s drunk. I set my purse down on the couch and walk to our bedroom door. The lights are off, and since it’s still winter, it’s pretty dark out here. I don’t think either of them can see me, but I see the silhouettes of their bodies in our bed. Amara is riding him, his mouth on her tits.

  I don’t know what comes over me, but I have to stand here and watch. It’s like my brain won’t allow me to move from the sight I’m seeing. Do I need to let this horror sink into my body before I can leave? I slide my hand over my tummy, holding the barely there bump, wondering why this man that I adore more than anything can continue to do this to me. But now he’s crossed a line, he didn’t sleep with some whore.

  He slept with my best fucking friend.

  I turn slowly and grab my purse from the couch. Each step I take determines what I know has to be done. I won’t be meeting, Rose for a re-match. In fact, I won’t be seeing anyone from Utah ever again.

  Once I get in my car, I let the tears fall in a rush over my cheeks. I want to scream, I want to bloody my fists with both his and Amara’s blood, but I can’t do that. I know that I can’t let myself get too upset. I don’t just have to worry about me anymore. I have to worry about this little one inside me.

  If I’ve learned anything, it’s that our almost is what will haunt me. No matter what though, I know my baby and I will be okay. Widow might have made his choice to give up on our relationship, but I will never give up on my child. I’ll make damn sure I make a better life for the two of us. We don’t need him, we just need one another.

  Chapter 1

  WHEN YOU CAN TELL YOUR STORY AND IT DOESN’T MAKE YOU CRY, YOU KNOW YOU HAVE HEALED. -ANONYMOUS

  Rebel

  “Mom!” I turn my head around to look back at my daugh-ter, Zoe, in the back seat. Terror is drawn across her face and I know what she’s going to tell me before it even comes out of her little, forgetful mouth.

  “Did you really forget your lunch again?” I raise my eyebrows up at my little wild child. Part of me thinks she’s doing this shit on purpose, not wanting to
eat what I’ve been making her lately.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to this time. I swear it’s not because it’s Taco Tuesday.” I want to snap my fingers and tell her that I know she’s bullshitting me, but she’s seven years old, so I’ll let her get away with it until she’s at least eleven. She’s my only child, so I might let her get away with murder.

  I pull up into the carpool lane and dig into my purse, yanking out my wallet, I hand her a five dollar bill. “Today is the last day, Zoe. I mean it this time.”

  “The school feeds you crap. It’s not healthy.” She imitates and sticks her tongue out at me, snatching the money, she darts out the door and slams it shut behind her.

  I take in a deep breath, telling myself that it’s my fault for letting her be such a sassy little shit. If I was sterner with her, she’d be a little angel. All things considered, I’m lucky with her. For not having a Dad around, she doesn’t ask questions. Instead, she just accepts that it’s the two of us. In a sense, I’m blessed because a lot of the kids in her class are raised by single moms. It goes to show you how shitty the world can really be.

  I swing out onto I-15 and head North. I want to go home and let the dog out before I go into work. I can probably get a couple of shots uploaded online if I time my outfits right. I’ll just have to adjust my hair and makeup a teeny bit.

  I used to be one of those typical girls who would just post pictures of themselves online and get paid, but two weeks ago I signed a five year deal with a business called Crave, LLC. They’ve developed a brand new platform called OneEye. It’s kind of like an adult version of SnapChat and Instagram. Only, I have the ability to make a lot more money pairing up with them. These girls sell sexual essence, and when I met them, I knew within the first ten minutes that these were the people I needed to sign with.

  They weren’t the first that approached me with an idea like this. Countless men did, but men are dumb and oh so close minded. I needed to be invested with innovators, and the innovators found me.

  ‘Don’t Worry Bout Me’ by Zara Larsson is playing through the speakers of my Range Rover Velar when a call rings through. I glance over to my display and see it’s Gia, one of my bosses. Reluctantly, I answer it.

  “Hey,” I greet her.

  “Morning. Are you on your way into the office? I’m in town to check in and see how things are going here.” Gia and her business partners, Briar, Emma and Diem just bought the top four floors of a major skyscraper in the city. They’ve turned it into another Crave, and the girls have started work-ing. I closely befriended one of their girls named Harlow. She works in a subdivision of Crave called the girlfriend experience.

  Crave makes it apparent that they don’t sell sex. I’ve looked over a wide variety of their contracts, signing up as an exclusive Crave girl for OneEye, but I also signed up for the girlfriend experience. The women and men who want to have a girl, or sometimes a guy with them pays a flat hourly fee. They take us out on dates, go shopping, and lots of other things. What they do not pay Crave for is to have a sexual relationship with us. We’re simply paid for our time on the date. Anything else that happens is a consensual, mutual deci-sion between two adults.

  “I was going to run home to let Bubbles out … You never just ask me if I’m going to the office, though. What do you need me for?” Gia is a hands down legend. One of the most professional women I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with. She’s straight to the point, but she’s also courteous.

  “Harlow’s sick. Do you think you could jump in on her date today? It’s in an hour.”

  I take in a quick breath, “Who’s her date?”

  “Nikolai.” Jesus. Of course, it has to be Nikolai. I’ve never let myself fuck any of the men I’ve gone out on dates with. Well, besides Nikolai. Every time I look at him it feels

  like I’m fucking someone else. Someone from my past who turned me into the jaded woman I am today.

  There are often nights where I find myself dreaming about Widow, but instead of his face I see Nikolai’s. At least with Nikolai I know that I’m nothing but a piece of ass. A piece of ass that gets paid very well, I might add.

  “I’ll do it. Where am I supposed to meet him?” I ask as a formality, but we all know where he wants to meet me. It’s where he wants to meet all of us. Within the comfort of his own home.

  Chapter 2

  I DIDN’T GET HERE BY LUCK. I WORKED AND MADE SACRIFICES THAT MOST WOULD NOT.

  -CANADIANCOOKINGADVENTURES.COM

  Rebel

  I didn’t need the directions from Gia on how to get to Nikolai’s house. By doing this trip so many times, I know it like the back of my hand. He lives on the outside of North Vegas, so I went up I-15 and took the exit closest to his house. I had to drive another few miles and then drive up to his gate.

  I’ve been here so many times that I have my own pass-code to get in. I’m not really sure if that’s a good thing or a bad one. As the gate opens for me, I slowly step on the gas, making my way up his drive and to his house.

  He loves the modern arts and his house reflects that. We may be in the desert, but his house looks like it should be in the clouds. A gray with a blue undertone paints his palace, some parts of it is covered in a blue slate stone.

  I park my Range Rover and step out, making my way up the stone steps. I don’t look anything special today. He’s used to seeing me in a variety of clothing, though. All I had planned for the day was to drop Zoe off at school and then go back to the house and shoot as many images as I could for OneEye. Hell, I might’ve gotten a couple of videos too.

  “You look ravishing,” Before I’m even on the steps his deep, Russian accent comes purring out. I look up from the steps, catching his eyes raking over my body. His eyes are a soft blue, just like the light of ocean waters. He’s in his early to mid-forties. I’m not sure of his age because I’ve never asked. It’s really none of my business anyway. I’m here to do a job. Nothing more, and nothing less. He has brown hair with gray streaks going through, his facial hair matches with the same tones and somehow the man is oddly tan.

  He told me during one of the first times I met him that he’s from a small town in Northern Russia. I wonder if that has anything to do with his complexion, or if he’s hitting up the tanning salon just like the Russian girls do.

  I scoff, “Eh. This is a lazy day for me.” I’m in a pair of shredded light denim jeans with a black KISS tank. I’m as plain Jane as I can get right now. Well, besides my magenta pink hair. I let Zoe pick out my latest hair conquest. We just bleached it down to try a fun new color. The last time I let her pick a color, her eyes landed on the key lime green. Now, that was hard to pull off. But, I managed!

  “And yet somehow you still manage to look like a little muffin I want to eat.”

  I cock an eyebrow at him and snicker as he holds the door out for me to enter. “You’re just saying that because you want to fuck me.”

  “Straight to the point. This is one of the many things I enjoy about you.” His hand goes to the small of my back as he walks inside of his home. I’ll never get over the eclectic furniture he has across his space. It’s a mixture of modern with pieces from the seventies. I’m more of a dark and contemporary girl myself, but to each their own. He grabs the back of my hair and squeezes, tugging me towards him. “You may go to your room now.”

  Just like that I know where he wants me. He’s never told me what he does for a living, but what I’ve learned is that these men are under high stress situations. It’s why they’re into this kinky shit in the way they are. Nikolai has a partic-ular taste, but not too far fetched.

  I walk down the hallway and head up the small set of stairs into the room. Opening the door, I see the pink walls and Hello Kitty objects placed along the space. Nikolai isn’t one of those freaks who are into teenagers. If that was the case, I wouldn’t be here. What he does love is a sugar baby or a girl who calls him ‘Daddy’, naughty schoolgirls and so much more. Essentially, the girls who come here are
every man’s wet dream. Nikolai simply gets to act on his deepest fantasies.

  I strip out of my clothing and hide my clothing under a couple of pillows. I won’t allow anything to interfere with the fantasy that he wants. When I’m with him, it’s about him. Only, it isn’t. My pleasure matters just as much as his does, and he’s always sure I get it.

  I approach the soft pink dresser on the other end of the wall and pull out the top drawer. A variety of outfits are here, even some new ones. My little eyes spot a leopard print two piece set. It’s the same pink as the walls, and you can see right through it. I slide on the shorts, bringing them up just below my belly button so my ass hanging out of the shorts. Taking in a quick breath, I slide on the top, putting my fingers over the fur that coats the bottom.

  I’m not normally the type of girl who enjoys being pretty in pink, but I have to admit, Nikolai picks the best shit. With my fingers, I bring my long locks into a high ponytail. I know Nikolai will love it. Hopefully he loves it enough to give me a decent sized gift too.

  The door opens and in comes Nikolai, wearing a smile that screams he’s the cat who caught the canary. “If you tell me I look ravishing, I just might have to be a naughty girl.” I give him a half smile that tells him I’m only planning on being naughty. I think we both like it when I play hard to get.

  “I’ll keep my compliments to myself for the time being.” He mews as he approaches me, grazing his fingertips on my ass. His deliberately scans his eyes over me in a calculating manner. It reminds me of a predator looking at his prey.