Mayhem: A Reapers MC Boxset

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Mayhem: A Reapers MC Boxset Page 52

by Elizabeth Knox


  I place the lid back on the pot and go over to her, kneeling on the god-awful green carpet. Running a hand over her head, I offer her a smile. “Want to tell me what’s got you in such a fit?”

  She puffs her lip out even more, grimacing a tad. “I want Daddy.”

  I’ve never in my life had to deal with something this difficult. Aggie wants nothing to do with her father, and Sorcha doesn’t even remember much about him, so she could care less. Though Davina . . . it’s like she doesn’t comprehend what he did. What he’d done before, and I’d forgiven him for in the past.

  I take her hands in mine and stare into her crystal blue eyes. I want to run my hands through her white blonde hair yet again, though I know it won’t offer much comfort. That is what I’m trying to be right now— comforting.

  “My sweet, sweet girl. How I wish I had your forgiving heart.”

  “It’s not hard, Mum. He made a mistake. You forgive him. It’s simple.” Innocence radiates through her and for her own sake I hope she keeps this heart, that the world doesn’t chew her up and spit her out like it does to many of us.

  “Baby, things aren’t always so simple. Your father and I . . . there is no going back for us. I know he’s still your father, and you love him so much, but we won’t be together.” I try my hardest to not say anything negative about him, even though I really want to scream it from the rooftops and warn anyone I can. For my girls, I want them to have some good memories of their father, even if he wasn’t the best. I won’t take those precious memories from them.

  “You can too, but you just won’t. He always said you were the difficult one, and I think he’s right!” Davina hisses, starting to rise up and run away from me. I grab ahold of her arm and hold on securely.

  “Young lady, I don’t know who’s told you that you can speak to me like that, but it wasn’t me. Now, I’m going to be honest with you. I’ve never lied to you, and I never will. Your father and I weren’t in a healthy relationship. He broke my trust, baby, and he won’t ever get it back. Now, what I will say is Grim is a good man, and he’s a friend of mine . . . so just try to be a bit nice to him, okay?”

  I release Davina’s arm and she presses her lips together. “Only if I can put the whoopie cushion under the couch and have him sit there.”

  Unable to hold back my laugh, I nod, giving her the confirmation she needs.

  A knock comes to the door and I head over to open it, seeing Grim. “You do realize I had to pay Herold 50 bucks to give me your address, right?” Grim smirks, though I see he’s holding four bags in his hands.

  “What? Why?”

  He cocks a brow. “You didn’t give me your address, Java.”

  “Oh, shite. I’m sorry. I knew I’d forgotten something.”

  He releases a chortle and walks inside, handing me a bag. “I’ve got some goodies for the girls.”

  “And what’s this?” I hold the bag he’s given me, which is quite heavy.

  “Maybe you should dig in instead of askin’ me.”

  I pull out the white tissue paper and see the box has been put in upside down. Grabbing hold of the box I pull it out and set it on my counter, revealing a chef’s knife set. I look back at him to see he’s holding another smaller box in his hands, and so I open it, spotting a bright teal coffee mug. It says, ‘Just call me Java’, and I know where he grabbed it too. The coffee shop next to Herold’s.

  “Grim, you didn’t have to do this.”

  “I know I didn’t. I did it because I wanted to.” He smiles. “Do you like it?”

  I nod, going in for a hug. “Of course. It was too much.”

  “Nah, not really. You’re gonna need to be fueled on coffee to deal with the club. Plus, we don’t have any good knives.”

  I roll my eyes, knowing he’s trying to make this not a big deal. “Whoa, what’s in those bags?” Aggie questions, running into the kitchen.

  “She’s a bit brash. I’m so sorry.” I tell Grim.

  “Nah, don’t be. It’s nice to see kids excited.” He tells me before he turns to face Aggie. “I got you and your sisters some presents. You don’t mind, do ya?”

  “Mind presents? Are you crazy?” Aggie giggles. Meanwhile Sorcha’s run up behind her, peering from behind her sister with curiosity.

  “This one is for you, and this is for you.” Grim hands Aggie the bright green bag, and Sorcha the soft pink one. There’s a lilac colored one left, which I’m assuming is for Davina.

  Aggie goes in first, pulling out a drawing pad and some sort of make it yourself jewelry maker. Sorcha on the other hand pulls out a tea set and a doll, causing her eyes to light up. “Oh my goodness! Tea, a tea party Mummy! We can have a real tea party!”

  Davina comes in from the bedroom she shares with her sisters, still a bit put off by Grim, but she’s being nice. Grim hands her the bag, “This is for you, little lady.”

  Davina goes straight for it, pulling out some make up. Immediately, her frown is turned upside down and I think she’s gonna give him somewhat of a chance.

  “Girls, what do you say?”

  “Thank you!” They all say at the same time, smiling.

  It’s a good thing Grim’s back is turned to me, because my smile is far bigger than any of my girls’. The fact he even did this blows me away. My girls have been through so much and I was terrified getting into some sort of relationship would just put them through more chaos. Now I’m not thinking that way. Honestly, I feel like this could be a good thing for us all.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “You’re beautiful because you know your own darkness and still, that alone doesn’t stop you from finding your own light.”

  ~ R. M. Drake

  Grim

  Natalie’s kids ran off into what I presume is their bedroom to play with their new toys. I stayed in the kitchen, close to Natalie while she goes over to the pot. Even standin’ outside I could smell this. Pretty sure my stomach started instantly growlin’ too.

  She takes the lid off, sets it on the other side of the stove and the oven beeps. She grabs a dish towel and removes a cast iron skillet from the oven. It looks kinda like cornbread, but it isn’t that dark. That and the fact this isn’t yellow. It’s a tan sort of color.

  “Smells good,” I comment.

  Natalie turns her head back for a moment so I can catch her smile. “Glad you think so. I made some of my mother’s bannock bread to have alongside the stew. Both should be about ready if you’d like to dig in.”

  “You don’t have to ask me that question again, Java. I’m starved.”

  Natalie giggles and opens her cupboard, pulling a bowl out and sets it on the counter. She goes for a drawer and grabs a knife, cutting the bread up into individual servings, resembling the way you’d normally slice a pie. After that, she has a soup dipper and gets me a massive serving of stew, then puts the bread directly in the stew and pops a spoon in it. Turning around, she hands it over and narrows her eyes.

  “Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” I question.

  “I’m only curious to see what you think.”

  I grab ahold of the bread and put it in my mouth. The mixture of the part that soaked into the stew, combined with the flakiness in the center is to die for. I’m pretty sure I start moanin’ from the way she’s cacklin’.

  “I take it you’re not disappointed.” Natalie goes on to say, getting an adamant nod from me. I don’t even think I respond verbally for a few minutes, downing the entire bowl. She gives me a second serving, putting more bread in my bowl.

  This time at least I sit at her small table. “You have to make this for the club. Shit, I’ve never had a stew this good.”

  “Well, thank you. I’m glad you like it.”

  “No, I love it, Java. Shit.”

  “How does this work again? Do I go fetch the groceries, or does someone else?”

  “How about you give me a list of what you need on Saturday mornings before you get there. I’ll make sure one of the girls goes out an
d gets what you need.”

  “Sounds good. I figured I’d fix hearty meals for dinner and make some things quick for grabbing for lunch. Like wraps, sandwiches, portioned meals. Does that sound doable?”

  “It sure does.” I comment, taking another bite of bread.

  “Perfect. I’ve already prepared a list of what I’ll need for tomorrow.”

  “Of course, you have. Is there anything you don’t excel at?” I joke, taking the list from her hands.

  “There’s plenty.” She comments.

  I take my cell out and text a photo to Ruby. Since she’s here, I’ll put her ass to work. Hell, she can take her fuckin’ buddy Zorro with her. I still haven’t wrapped my head around that entire situation, but it’s not my place to judge.

  I still need to have a chat with he and Axel about rollin’ up to Stonewall and findin’ these fuckers who hurt Rub’. ‘Cause it’s damn well gonna happen.

  Natalie makes herself a bowl and calls the girls over, handin’ them all their own bowls. They sit at the table, scarfing down the food, and then ask to be excused. Obviously, they wanna run back into their room and do whatever it is they typically do.

  “Want some whisky?” Natalie asks, taking our two empty bowls over to the sink.

  “Only if it’s the good kind.”

  “It’s imported from Scotland, so yes, it’s the best whisky there is. Just be happy my father decided to give me a bottle.”

  “I’ll have to personally thank him the next time I see him.” I reply.

  “Next time? You’re awfully confident I’m going to keep you around.” I can tell she’s being playful, but it doesn’t mean I won’t play along with her.

  “Why wouldn’t you? I’m a catch.”

  Natalie giggles, breaking out into laughter. “You have a lovely personality. I haven’t laughed like this in ages, and here you are, making me laugh any time we cross paths.”

  “Java, we’re gonna be crossin’ paths a lot, so it’s best you get used to it.” I say, a bit dominant in my tone.

  Natalie hands me a short glass filled with a bit of whisky and sits beside me with her own. I take a sip of mine, then set my glass down. “I’m wonderin’ if I should dig into shit with you. You told me why you have some scars, but not all of ‘em.”

  Natalie’s smile immediately fades and she takes a big sip of her whisky. Before she says a word, she looks back down the hallway. She must be seeing if the girls will overhear us, or if their door is closed.

  “I told you a bit, but I’ll go into detail with you. My husband beat the shit out of me last Christmas after I bitched at him for selling the girls’ toys from Santa Claus as you call him here in the States. It’s how I got this,” Natalie points to her face.

  My throat immediately tightens, and I have a hard time not clenching my jaw or ballin’ my fists up. So help this piece of shit if I run across him. I might kill him. Actually, I’m going to kill him for what he did. There is no might about it. You just don’t do certain things to women, and hittin’ ‘em is one of ‘em. This piece of shit will get what he deserves, the same way those fuckers up at Stonewall will get what’s comin’ to them.

  “Now it’s your turn,” Natalie points in my direction, motioning to my scar. Ah, I didn’t realize I haven’t told her this story.

  I don’t wanna scare her off, ‘cause my scar has to do with the club. “It’s important you know the life I’m in brings a certain element of danger, but for the most part I handle shit pretty well.”

  “Huh? Danger?” Natalie draws her brows together like it’s a complete shock to her. Though, according to club rules I can’t go into club business with her unless she’s my ol’ lady.

  Now that I think about it, she hasn’t really been around any dangerous shit with the club. We’ve met in the most normal way possible. “A lot of people feel threatened by a club like the one I’m part of. I’m . . . I’m never gonna lie to you, Java. Shit isn’t always picture perfect. We get gritty, but dammit if we don’t protect the ones we care about. The Reapers are a family, and if you’re with me you and the girls are part of that family.”

  “You’re dodging my question,” She tells me, but it’s not intentional.

  “Yeah, it can be dangerous, but it’s not always. Which leads me to my scar.” I go quiet for a minute or so tryin’ to think of the way to tell her this story, but there isn’t gonna be an easy way. “Years ago, we had an issue with another club from Washington. They were tryin’ to set up some trade routes through here by postin’ some of their guys across Montana in cabins, undermining us and all that shit. We took one of their guys to prove a point. Well, they ended up nabbin’ me and keepin’ me in this storage container. The club didn’t meet their requests within a certain time, so they did this with a hunting knife.” I’m keepin’ out some gruesome details, but that’s only to protect her from getting a vivid snapshot of what happened, and the club as well. Natalie seems shocked at first while I speak, but quickly I watch as her expression shifts to pity. She feels sorry for me, but she shouldn’t. Goin’ through that helped shape me into the man I am today, and I wouldn’t trade that for anyone else.

  I clear my throat and she jumps in her chair. I’m bettin’ she’s still processing. “Since we’re talkin’ about some rough shit, I might as well continue.” Picking up the glass of whisky, I finish it off, needin’ liquid courage to get through this next bit. “You asked about my daughter. She died when she was six months old of SIDS. No one knew why, even the coroner. She just died. When it came down to reason for death, they listed SIDS, said it happens to plenty of kids her age . . . but damn, it still guts me to this day.”

  “I am so sorry. I can’t even imagine what it would’ve been like to go through that . . .” Natalie starts off saying, but quickly I see the news of my little girl’s death guts her too. Tears slide down her cheeks. “God, I’m so sorry. I don’t even know why I’m reacting this way.”

  “Because you’re a mom, and you know how much havin’ your girls means to you. The mere thought of it guts you, Java. Shit, it . . . the pain I mean, it’ll never go away. It’s been over ten years and it’ll never go away.”

  “She and Aggie would’ve been good friends I think.” Natalie says with a reassuring smile.

  I nod, confirming it. “Those two would’ve gotten into so much trouble. I don’t have a doubt about it.”

  “What about her mum? Is she still around or?”

  Immediately, I shake my head. “Nah. She stuck here for about six months, but when our little girl died . . . that was the end of us. We didn’t blame each other, but it’s hard to go through something like that . . . especially when we were both a wreck. She’s a great woman, but it just . . . didn’t work anymore. She moved down to Salt Lake City to be closer to her brothers. I stayed here.”

  “Oh okay. I’m sorry if I’m digging too much.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’d be doin’ the same if I was in your position.”

  “I somehow doubt that.” Natalie replies, reaching out for my hand, she takes hold of it and gives me a squeeze.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I can wipe tears from my eyes, but I can’t wipe the pain in my heart

  ~ Unknown

  Natalie

  Pain. It’s a funny thing. How it plagues us all, torments us, and most of all how it will haunt us until the rest of our days. Even now, laying in bed with Grim’s arm around me, holding me snug against his chest I’ve woken from a terrible nightmare.

  The sounds of his boots against the wood floor, the sickening cackle, and ways he’d tell me through the house how I was nothing without him. No one will ever know the sad reality to what I was subjected to, not even the girls. Luckily for me, they’d be off visiting their friends when their father would torture me.

  He loved to fuck with my head more than anything. He’d go behind me and turn the lights on after I’d shut them off, then hiss at me and said I didn’t do it. He’d turn on the faucet when I knew it was off, sa
ying yet again I was being stupid or wasn’t paying attention. After hearing it for so long, I slowly began to believe it.

  David made me feel like a worthless piece of shite. Even now, sometimes I still do. But I try not to.

  I snuggle closer to Grim, knowing now why we get along so well. We’ve both been plagued with pain. While they might be two totally different ways, it’s still the truth. He lost his child and I lost a part of myself. A part of me that I hope I’m slowly finding again.

  Grim shifts his hand up a bit until his fingers are tangled in my hair. He’s groggy, but he’s still moving around a bit.

  Now, in this moment I’m grateful for my mum pushing me to live a bit more. Until now I didn’t even realize what I was doing, not even living my life. Why hadn’t I been? Who knows, but I’d bet it’s most likely fear.

  Scooting up a bit, I press a kiss against Grim’s stubble, right along his jawline. He mumbles something out, though it’s inaudible. Putting my hands on the mattress I push myself up and Grim’s hand falls slowly back onto his body. He’s shirtless, with his cut and shirt laying on top of my dresser. His jeans and boots are on the floor next to it, leaving him only in boxers.

  This might sound asinine, but I’m craving him more than I can fathom. Just to know how he treats me, with such respect and honesty . . . it has me going insane. The way he looks at me like I’m perfect, when I’ve never felt that way in the first place . . . it causes my core to grow with need for him.

  I pull the reversible comforter down in my room just until his midsection is revealed and place my hand over his cock. Through the confines of his boxers I can feel his cock growing harder as I rub against it, feeling the veins pop as he too grows with need. Slowly, he becomes more rigid.

 

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