Reaper's Property

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Reaper's Property Page 6

by Joanna Wylde


  “You look like shit,” Horse said helpfully as he pulled up a lawn chair next to me. He sounded almost cheerful, which annoyed me. I glared at him and he smirked. “Still got a sweet butt though.”

  I went from annoyed to pissed.

  “Don’t call me that,” I snapped. “I don’t like it.”

  “I know,” he replied. “That’s why I do it. You’re cute when you’re pissed. Kind of like a wet kitten. Gets me hard.”

  My jaw dropped. Horse leaned back in his chair, running his fingers through his dark, messy hair, grinning at me with that perfect mouth, stubble so long it had turned into a short beard. The man looked extremely pleased with himself.

  “Hear from the ex?” he asked.

  I shook my head, deciding not address the “gets me hard” comment.

  “Glad to hear it, I don’t think he’ll be bothering you again,” he replied. “The guys will be here in a couple hours. They’re grabbing some food, we’ll camp here tonight before heading home.”

  “Um, that sounds good,” I said. “Does Jeff know?”

  He shook his head.

  “No, I just wanted to check on you,” he said. “Is he around?”

  I shook my head.

  “He went to the casino with some friends, said he might crash at Krissy’s tonight.”

  Horse’s face didn’t change, but I felt a distinct chill. Well, fair enough. I didn’t like Jeff going to the casino either. He must have work for them he hadn’t finished yet. Jeff had been going downhill fast the past few weeks, and I couldn’t seem to do anything to halt it or help him.

  “Don’t let that stop you,” I added quickly. “You guys are welcome to stay here, especially if you’re bringing your own food.”

  I meant it too. Even though he’d scared the hell out of me that unforgettable morning, I felt safe around him, especially now. When I’d been hurt, he protected me. I knew he’d done something nasty to Gary. I supposed I should be upset about that, because violence never solves anything. But Gary deserved whatever he got and then some.

  “You want anything to drink?” Horse asked, taking in the empty plastic cup sitting next to me on a plastic milk crate. I smiled at him, trying not to wince as it pulled at my split lip.

  “Iced tea?”

  “You got it,” he said, snagging my cup and carrying it inside. He came back out with a second one for himself. We sat companionably for the rest of the afternoon, talking about all kinds of things. I learned he’d grown up in a biker family and his father had been one of the first Reapers. His sister was married to Bam Bam. When I’d first met them, the MC had seemed like a gang of thugs, but the way Horse described it was more like a family. A crazy, loud family that fought a lot and occasionally went to jail, but still a family.

  That I could understand—after all, my mama was more than a little crazy and sitting in the county jail as we spoke. I still loved her to pieces.

  I told him about the brochures I had in my bedroom from the community college in the Tri-Cities. They had a culinary arts program, and the people at the Women’s Center had encouraged me to look into going back to school.

  “It’s a good idea,” he said. “I know you like the daycare, but that’s not a long-term thing unless you decide to open a center yourself.”

  I shook my head, laughing.

  “No way,” I said. “The kids are fun, but I can’t imagine doing that for the rest of my life. Too many diapers.”

  “So you don’t want kids of your own? Had enough diapers?”

  I shrugged.

  “Well, I don’t want to be a single mom, that’s for sure,” I replied. “My mom’s in jail right now for assault with a deadly weapon, which was pretty stupid of her, I admit. But she took good care of us growing up. She worked her ass off before she blew out her back and started drinking. Chronic pain, you know? But she never would have tried to run over that cop if she’d stuck it out in the anger management program. I’m still not sure why she went after the second guy, he’s not the one who wrote the parking ticket…”

  Horse burst out laughing, biting it back quick.

  I shook my head, narrowing my eyes. He wouldn’t meet my eye, taking a quick drink of his tea. Then I reached over and poked his side and another laugh escaped, which he tried to hide with a cough. I decided to let him off the hook.

  “It’s okay,” I said with a smile. “Even Mom laughed when she finally calmed down, and thankfully she never came close to actually hitting them. It wasn’t her finest moment, that’s for sure. She’s got another four months ahead of her though, which isn’t nearly as funny.”

  We fell silent for a few minutes. Then he spoke again.

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Oh, the kids,” I looked up at the clouds. One of them looked kind of like my mom holding a cigarette. I smiled. “Actually, I think I’d like kids. But not by myself and not if I can’t stay home with them. Jeff and I had to be on our own way too much, and while I don’t blame Mom for that, I want something better for my own family.”

  I looked over to find him staring at me intently. I blushed, though I couldn’t say why.

  “What about you?”

  “I want kids,” he said. “My mom would kill me if I didn’t give her at least a couple of grandbabies. Never had an old lady though, not a keeper at least. Kinda hard to have one without the other.”

  “That’s the truth,” I replied, feeling more uncomfortable by the minute. “Tell me something. What’s with the ‘old lady’ thing? Seems like a nasty thing to call someone you care about.”

  “It’s a term of respect,” he replied. I shrugged, but he reached out and touched my shoulder, getting me to look at him. His expression was intent and focused. “Seriously, a biker’s old lady is like his wife. She’s his woman, his property, and if anyone fucks with her the entire club will come down on them. Hard.”

  “Property?” I asked, wrinkling my nose. “That sounds even worse.”

  “You don’t get it,” he said, shaking his head. “Things are different in the outside world, but the club is a tribe. If a woman isn’t claimed, she’s fair game. But when a biker brands her as his property, she’s untouchable.”

  “I still can’t imagine being called property,” I snapped. He blew out his breath, exasperated.

  Before he could reply, we heard the roar of pipes in the distance. For once, his friends had good timing. They pulled into the yard with a rumble, carrying bags full of KFC chicken and biscuits. I don’t usually eat stuff like that, but as the sun faded and they laid out their bedrolls, I couldn’t imagine anything tastier than the plate of junk food balanced on my knees.

  None of them mentioned my bruises, which I appreciated. Picnic brought me a box of chocolate-covered dried cherries. They built a bonfire and we all sat around drinking beer and laughing until my head drooped. When I got up to go to bed, Horse followed me in and it felt natural for him to climb in beside me. He seemed to understand how sore I was and didn’t so much as kiss me, although I felt his erection several times during the night. I felt safe in his arms. The next day they took off at first light while I was still half asleep.

  That afternoon I got a text from Horse, telling me to look at the “favorites” list on my phone.

  He’d programmed himself into it, right at the top.

  Aug. 23

  Horse: How’s it going?

  Me: Good. Kid barfed at me at work, but I managed to jump out of the way :)

  Horse: Sounds like fun. Bike broke down here

  Me: That sucks. You have a car?

  Horse: SUV. Good for getting around, esp in snow. Hate feeling caged tho. What you doing?

  Me: In yard, catching sun.

  Horse: What you wearing?

  Me: Nothing. Working on tan all over

  Horse: !!!! You fucking me????

  Me: LOL I’m wearing a tee and shorts :->

  Horse: Too good to be true. Going to try to make it down next week

  M
e: Give me heads up

  Horse: I will. TTYL

  Aug. 27

  Me: Bored. Hows the bike?

  Horse: Bored is better than barfed on. Bike up and running again.

  Me: Congrats! Kind of excited, going out tonight. Friend Cara from HS came to visit from NY. Like old times

  Horse: Out?

  Me: Dancing in tri-cities. Some club. Gonna slut up and everything!

  Horse: Huh. Be careful

  Me: Always. Excited tho. Haven’t gone out since Gary

  Horse: Looking for new man?

  Me: Um…not really. Just fun

  Horse: Watch out and don’t dress too slutty. Don’t want trouble

  Me: Had enough trouble, trust me

  Horse: True. Send me a pic later

  Me: OK

  Me: So what you think? Too slutty?

  Horse: Hot. Definitely too slutty. Go change.

  Me: Prude :-P

  Horse: Text me when you get home

  Me: Night gone to shit

  Horse: ?

  Me: Jeff is sick, really sick. Asked me to stay home with him. Thought I might have to take him to the hosp but all right now

  Horse: That sucks. He okay?

  Me: Think so. Getting checked tomorrow, stomach pain

  Horse: Sorry

  Me: Me too. Cara leaving tomorrow, so no party for me…

  Aug. 28

  Horse: Hows Jeff?

  Me: Fine, like nothing happened. Doc says must have been gas

  Horse: Heh

  Me: Bad gas

  Horse: Sorry about going out. Glad nobody saw you dressed like that

  Me: Jealous? ;)

  Horse: What do you think? Gotta go, church in a few

  Me: Church?!?? Didn’t peg you for a church kind of guy

  Horse: What we call a club meeting. I try to stay away from collection plates

  Me: Don’t get holy water in your beer!

  Sept. 1

  Me: Going to see mom today. Hate jail

  Horse: Watch out for LEO

  Me: LEO?

  Horse: Law enforcement officers. Jail crawling with them

  Me: LOL. Cause I break so many laws?

  Horse: No, cause you keep bad company :-> Social visit or something up?

  Me: Just regular, try to go every week since closer now. Harder when I lived with Gary. Didn’t like me seeing her. Calls cost too much $ tho, so visiting important.

  Horse: I get it. Got brothers inside. Hope visit is good

  Me: Thanks

  Horse: Send another pic?

  Me: Um, not dressed up

  Horse: Don’t care. Send it. Want to see you today

  Me: Okay :)

  I hate the county jail.

  I’ve spent way too many hours in the waiting room, although I know it’s probably better than visiting a real prison. The county guys look at me like I’m trash and occasionally they cop a feel while patting me down.

  That’s the price of seeing my mom.

  They put me in a little room that had a built-in table, sort of like those tables at McDonald’s where you can’t move the chairs. But here the chairs are just stools and the whole thing is white. After a few minutes the door opened and Mom came in. She was wearing an orange jumpsuit, and even though it had to be the ugliest piece of clothing on earth, Mom looked fantastic. Seriously. My mom is hot, always has been, something that drove me crazy during high school. But from the way she walked, I could tell that her back was hurting worse than usual. She had a bunch of ruptured discs and no health insurance to fix them. The doctors wanted her to have surgery, but the county didn’t want to pay for it, so she was stuck in limbo.

  I stood and hugged her.

  “Hey, Mama,” I whispered into her hair, which looked fantastic even though she didn’t have any styling stuff or anything. How did her hair look better in jail than mine did after two hours fixing it? Just another part of the mystery that was my crazy, loving, incredibly-difficult-at-times mother.

  “Hey, baby,” she replied, holding me tight. She smelled a little like cigarettes, which I know a lot of people find disgusting but I find strangely comforting—so long as it’s not totally filling our trailer with smoke. It made me think of when she’d come home late at night after work when we were little. She’d walk into the bedroom I shared with Jeff and kiss us both good night. That little hint of smoke was the smell of comfort and safety.

  We separated and took seats.

  “So how’s it going with you?” she asked. I’d put on lots of foundation to cover my bruises but her eyes flickered across them. “Gary?”

  “Yeah,” I said, flushing. “I was stupid, went back there alone to get some stuff. He was drunk.”

  Her mouth tightened, eyes filling with tears of anger or frustration, I couldn’t tell which.

  “I wish I was out of here,” she said. “I’d kill that bastard.”

  “Mom! Don’t talk like that, they’re probably listening—they’ll think you mean it.”

  She cocked an eyebrow at me and I knew she meant every word. Mom had a temper, no question. That’s what got her here in the first place. But I loved the fact that she always protected her chicks, back when we were little and now too. My mom wasn’t perfect, but the woman could be an avenging angel when she needed to be, something more than one school bully had learned the hard way.

  “He won’t be bothering me again,” I said quickly. “A friend of mine had some words with him.”

  “Friend?” she asked.

  “Um, actually a friend of Jeff’s. He’s a biker.”

  “I see,” Mom said. “Since when does Jeff hang out with bikers? Gamers are more his speed, I’d think.”

  “Ever since I moved back to the trailer,” I replied, shrugging. “He’s doing some kind of work for them. I don’t know the details.”

  “They good bikers or bad bikers?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  I laughed nervously.

  “Um, they’re good to me. Kind of rough and they can get scary, but I’m okay with them.”

  Her eyes narrowed, studying me. I shifted nervously, blushing again. Mom always saw right through me.

  “Just ‘getting along’ or something more?” she asked. I shrugged again and she smirked.

  “Well, be careful. Bikers can be great, but the hardcore guys are living in a different world from us.”

  “Yeah, I picked up on that,” I said wryly. “It’s nothing serious, mostly just flirting.”

  She didn’t need to know all the details. Does anyone really want to tell their mom about their best orgasm ever?

  “I’ve got news of my own,” she replied with a gleam in her eye. Uh-oh, I recognized that gleam.

  “What?” I asked, unnerved.

  “Well, I’ve reconnected with someone,” she said. “A man. We’re getting serious.”

  That caught my attention.

  “How on earth are you doing that from jail?” I exclaimed. “I swear, you’re like a magnet, how do you get so many guys after you?”

  She giggled, looking years younger than her age.

  “Well, I may be getting old but I’m not dead yet,” she replied. “He came to see me not too long after I got in here. In fact, he’s been visiting me a couple times a week.”

  “Who?”

  “John Benson.”

  “No way,” I muttered, stunned. “John Benson, our landlord?”

  ”Yeah,” she said, looking sheepish. “You may not know this, but he and I had a thing a long time ago…”

  “I know,” I replied. “I also know he was married.”

  She had the grace to look embarrassed.

  “Well, I’ve made mistakes. But you should know we both felt guilty. That’s why we ended it. His wife never knew. She’s been dead for about three years now, car accident. John and I had been avoiding each other for so long it became a habit, but I guess when he read about me in the paper he started thinking a
bout me.”

  Only my mother would end up finding love by trying to run over two cops. Clearly, John Benson was an idiot.

  “He wants me to marry him.”

  I shook my head, unsure what to say. Finally I managed to speak.

  “Well, I guess that’s good, Mom. How does he feel about what happened?”

  “He knows I have my issues, but I’m sober now, which has helped me sort things out,” she said. That was true—she’d joined AA even before her little incident. We’d confronted her about her drinking after Jeff found her passed out outside the trailer in the snow last winter. It was a miracle she survived. “I’ve realized now that I need to deal with my emotions or I get…upset.”

  That was the understatement from hell.

  “Aren’t you supposed to stay out of relationships your first year of AA?”

  “It’ll be almost a full year by the time I get out,” she replied. “I’d get out a little earlier for good behavior, but they’re not cutting me any slack because of the cop thing.”

  We looked at each other, both thinking back to that day. She sighed.

  “I never do anything halfway, do I?”

  I shook my head, smiling ruefully.

  “That’s the truth.”

  “I’m moving in with him when I get out. That’s good news for you and Jeff, I guess. You’ll get to keep the trailer all to yourselves.”

  I shrugged.

  “I guess if that’s what you want,” I replied. “It concerns me a little, but if you’re happy, that’s good enough for me.”

  She smiled, the tension on her face easing.

  “Thank you, baby,” she whispered. “I’ve been worried about telling you guys. You talk to Jeff for me? He hasn’t been to visit in a month and I’m worried. Is everything okay?”

  I thought about how to answer her question. I didn’t know of anything specifically wrong with Jeff, but there was definitely something going on. How to explain that though?

  “He’s been kind of edgy,” I said finally. “And lost some weight. But he hasn’t talked to me about anything and when I asked he blew me off. Wish I could tell you more.”

 

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