by Joanna Wylde
Fuck.
He thought about Marie, what she looked like when she was pissed at him, spitting fire like a little dragon. Damn, he wanted to get inside that woman. Once wouldn’t be close to enough. As usual his dick stood up to salute the idea, but what really pushed him over the edge was the thought of Marie crying over that lame-ass bastard.
He couldn’t let that happen.
“What about the sister?” he asked.
“What about her?” Picnic replied, voice carefully neutral.
“She’s gonna be my old lady. Some nice insurance there,” Horse said, aware of the pointed looks several of the brothers gave each other. “And when it’s family, we take care of business different and you know it.”
“Last I heard, she wasn’t on board with that,” Picnic replied slowly. “Girl didn’t even ask about you last night, Horse.”
“There’s precedent. Not all old ladies start out with their priorities in line, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be claimed if the president approves it and the members agree. It’s happened.”
“Sure, thirty years ago,” snapped Bam Bam. “They did all kinds of shit back then. We’re livin’ in a modern world, bro, you can’t just kidnap some chick and take her home.”
Duck snorted and slammed his hand down on the table, startling everyone.
“You pussies talk about the modern world like we give a shit about their rules. Remember who we are,” he boomed. “We’re men—one percenters. Fucking kings of the MC world. We don’t follow the rules, we make our own goddamn rules. My brother Horse wants a woman, wants her bad enough to come to the club and throw down for her. He ever done that before?”
He looked around the room, glaring at each man in turn.
Horse bit back a grin. Duck on a roll, hadn’t seen that one coming.
“Our brother has come before this club and let us know his intention to take an old lady,” Duck continued. “The situation is complicated. We all know he’ll put the club first, so we hear him out and back his play. He may not always be right, but he’s always our brother. You little cocksuckers need to think about that, ’fore I show up here one day and find you growing tits in place of your balls.”
Duck sat back with a grunt.
“How ’bout you tell us what you really think, Duck,” said Ruger, laughing and relaxing back into his chair. “Jesus.”
“He’s right,” Horse said, voice deadly serious. “I may not always be right, but I am always your brother—or at least I thought I was. A Reaper takes what he wants. You got my back?”
Picnic sighed.
“You’re an idiot, you know that?” he said. “She isn’t part of our world, she’s got no idea what to expect and she doesn’t even want to try. It’s not gonna end well.”
“That’s my problem, now isn’t it?”
“It’s your problem so long as you keep it controlled and out of club business,” Picnic replied. “She’s a nice kid, I like her. Good cook, fucking love that potato salad of hers. Puts bacon in it. It’d be nice to have some of that shit with dinner next time we roast a pig. But that still leaves us to deal with her brother. Makes things more complicated.”
Horse smiled. He’d won—this was just details.
“So she’s our insurance,” he answered. “Let the brother know that if he doesn’t pay us back, he’ll never see her again. Give him a few months, see how things play out.”
“You think he’ll find a way to pay us back?” asked Picnic.
“No idea,” Horse admitted. “The guy practically prints money when he’s focused and sober. Enough motivation, he may come through for us.”
“Hasn’t so far.”
“He loves his sister,” Bam Bam said quietly. “He’s a weasel and a bastard, but he really does care about her. Seen it with my own eyes. I don’t think he’ll hang her out to dry.”
“We make sure he knows—he doesn’t pay, she’s in big trouble,” Horse said. “He pays up, great. He blows this deal, we put him in the ground. Everybody wins.”
Except Marie. But Jensen was a big boy and he’d chosen to do business with and then screw over the Reapers MC. If it wasn’t for her, fucker’d be dead already.
“And the issue of respect?” asked Ruger. “We have to cover our bases here. Can’t look weak.”
“That’s the truth,” Picnic said. “But taking a man’s sister, holding her hostage? That’s payment in blood, we spread it ’round the right places. It should do.”
“You’re forgetting one thing,” said Max. Horse looked at him, trying to read his mind. Something was up with Max. They all cared about club business, but this was a step beyond. Almost personal.
“The money,” Max continued. “It’s one thing to let Horse have his little fuck toy, I don’t give a shit about that. It’s another to just sit back and lose fifty large. You guys may have money stashed somewhere, but I don’t. We sure we want to risk that kind of cash on this asshat pulling through for us, on top of the risk of him running to LEO?”
Horse narrowed his eyes at Max, who met them straight on. The man didn’t flinch.
“It’s a good point,” Bam Bam said, his voice mild. “Of course, we take him out now, we never see that money again anyway, Max.”
“Well maybe we wouldn’t have our asses hanging out so far if Horse’d done a better job watching him.”
Picnic sat up.
“Careful, brother,” he said, his voice cold. “Horse did his job. It was my call to let this play out, and I had good reason. That little shit made half a million bucks for this club, easy, in the last two years. You don’t just throw something like that away if you don’t have to. Fucker’s got a gift, can’t just replace him. That’s why I like this idea, maybe we can still save the situation.”
“I’m not voting for it,” Max said. “We need to put him down.”
“Why don’t I buy her?” Horse said. Everyone turned to look at him, startled. “I’ll buy Marie from the club, and we give Jensen another shot. Fifty grand, outta my pocket and into the club account. We wait and see if Jensen comes up with the money and interest. He does, I get paid back, the club makes a profit. He doesn’t, it’s on me.”
“That’s fucked up,” muttered Bam Bam. “No cunt worth that.”
“She’s not a cunt.”
“They’re all cunts,” Max snapped. Horse caught his eye, staring him down.
“Play nice, boys,” said Picnic. “I think you’re crazy, Horse, but this works for me. That good enough for you, Max?”
Max dipped his head in agreement.
“I’m with Picnic, you’re crazy,” said Bam Bam. “Should be a hell of a show. She hates you, Horse. Jensen told me.”
“Well, I’m pretty pissed at her myself,” Horse said. “We gotta work through that. But she’s mine and that’s the way it is.”
Picnic rolled his eyes and Ruger snorted.
“Nice to see youngsters acting like men instead of chorus girls,” Duck grunted, looking around the table in approval. “Let’s vote. I want beer.”
Horse left the meeting feeling pretty good. Paying out the money was gonna hurt, no question. But he’d been thinking about putting up a new shop on the property, so he had the cash. He damned sure wanted Marie more than a shop. He couldn’t wait to come home to her after a tough day, the smell of her cooking in the house, the sight of her in an apron and nothing else.
Nice.
Horse grabbed his phone out of the box, thinking he should have called her before now. He’d gotten her sweet little text messages and knew she was hurting. Hell, he’d wanted her to hurt, he could admit it. She’d hurt him, so he let her dangle for a few days…
But now that them being together was a reality? Time to let it go. He stepped out of the clubhouse and into the sunlight, powering up the phone. It pinged repeatedly, letting him know he’d missed a bunch of text messages from the night before.
Marie: Horse, muss yu
Marie: Why dont anser?
Marie: Hors
e like yur name. Horsey. I’d like to rid u horsey, LOL. You sleeping? Or busy with someone?
Marie: I know yur there. I bet you got a new gurl alredy. Screw you.
Marie: Screw you and your slut. I hate you. Take yur club and shove it up yur ass I wudn’t be yoor old lady for ten milion dollrs.
Fuck.
She’d been drunk, no question. And when people were drunk they said stupid shit, but they also told the truth. Marie might want his body, but she definitely didn’t want to be his old lady, despite all her sweet little texts to him trying to mend fences.
“Goddamit!” he yelled, throwing the phone at the concrete block wall of the clubhouse. It hit hard, shattering, as Ruger stepped outside.
“Problem?” he asked, raising a brow and looking from the phone to Horse.
Horse shook his head.
“No problem,” he said, tamping down his anger. He’d made his choice, taken a stand in front of the club. He’d play it out. But Marie was damned well going to pay him back that fifty grand one way or another. “Decided it’s time to get a new phone, that’s all.”
“What was wrong with the old one?” Ruger asked, his voice mild.
“It broke.”
Sept. 17—Present Day
Horse looked down at Jeff, feeling detached.
The man knelt in the middle of the floor, hands cuffed behind his back, Picnic standing over him with a gun. Blood ran down his face—they’d given him a decent beating, but not serious enough to need a hospital. Just bad enough to make him really, really uncomfortable and hopefully scare the hell out of Marie.
He’d have a few permanent scars to help him remember not to fuck over the Reapers too.
“I wonder if sissy’s gonna bail you out?” Picnic asked Jeff. “You really screwed yourself this time, little man. Do you not know our motto? Fuck with us and we will fuck with you.”
“I’m sorry,” Jeff whispered, eyes wild behind his puffing eyelids. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t do it on purpose, you’ve got to give me another chance.”
“How many chances do you need?” Horse demanded. “It’s hard to keep a straight face, listening to you talk.”
Jeff’s phone pinged on the counter, and Ruger picked it up.
“Text from Marie,” he said. “She’s gonna be home in a few, leaving the store now.”
“Text her back,” Jeff said quickly. “Please, she doesn’t have anything to do with this. Don’t let this happen, just tell her not to come home for another hour. Don’t let this be her last memory of me.”
“Shut up,” Picnic said, sounding exasperated.
Jeff shut up.
“You guys said this was a dump, but I didn’t realize just how bad,” Ruger said, leaning back against the wall, crossing his arms in front of him as he surveyed the room. “Can’t believe you let your sister live like this, fuckwad, especially given how much money we’ve been paying you.”
“I’m a shitty brother,” Jeff mumbled. “I know that. But don’t hurt Marie, she’s a sweetheart. Right? Never hurt anyone, doesn’t deserve this.”
“Oh I’m sure she’s sweet,” Ruger replied, smirking. Horse shot him a dark look, but it didn’t shut him up. Ruger grinned at him. “You can’t seriously expect us not to fuck with you over this, Horse.”
Horse shrugged—he didn’t, actually. What a mess. Fifty grand out the door for a woman who didn’t even want him. He ran a hand through his hair. At least he’d finally get to fuck her.
For fifty grand her cunt better be lined with gold.
“She’s pulling up now,” Painter said from his station near the window. “Got an armful of groceries. Should I help her carry them in?”
The men just looked at him, Picnic shaking his head in bemusement.
“Joking, right?” asked Ruger.
“Sorry, guess I didn’t think that one through,” Painter said. Horse had his doubts about the prospect—still pretty young, and so green. Could take him years to earn his top rocker at this point. The door opened and Marie walked in.
She screamed.
“I’m so sorry, sis,” Jeff said, the words muffled and broken. Marie looked around the room frantically, disbelief and shock written all over her face. Horse felt his cock harden and decided he was one sick fuck. The woman was terrified and she didn’t want him, yet she still turned him on. Of course, just about everything she did turned him on.
Everything but throwing his offer to take her as property back in his face. Fuckin’ bitch and her text messages. He might’ve paid fifty grand for her, but she claimed a million wouldn’t be enough?
She should be grateful to him for saving her brother.
Picnic looked at Marie and winked. That was creepy, even to Horse, and it surprised him that she didn’t have a heart attack on the spot. Good, he wanted her afraid.
“Little brother’s been a bad boy,” Picnic said. “He’s been stealing from us. You know anything about that?”
She shook her head, a grocery bag falling, apples rolling on the floor. One hit Horse’s foot and it took all his willpower not to kick it at Jensen’s head.
“I don’t understand,” she said, giving her brother a pleading look.
“He’s supposed to be working for us,” Picnic said. “Pretty good with that little laptop of his, sure you get that. But instead of working he’s been playing at the casino with our fucking money. Now he has the balls to tell me that he’s lost the money and can’t pay us back.”
He punctuated the last four words with jabs of his pistol’s thick, round barrel into the back of Jeff’s neck. Marie looked stunned, blinking rapidly. Horse could almost see the thoughts racing through her pretty little head.
“You got fifty grand on you?” he asked casually.
“He stole fifty thousand dollars?”
“Yup,” Horse said. “And if it doesn’t get paid back right now, his options are limited.”
“I thought you were friends,” she whispered, eyes darting between Horse, Jensen and Picnic.
“You’re a sweet kid,” Picnic replied. “But you don’t get who we are. There’s the club and everyone else, and this stupid fucker is not part of the club. You fuck with us, we will fuck you back. Harder. Always.”
Jeff’s mouth trembled, tears welling up in his eyes. Horse’d been surprised the guy didn’t start bawling earlier, to be honest. Then Jensen pissed his pants.
“Shit,” muttered Ruger. “I fucking hate it when they piss themselves.”
He looked down at the man and shook his head.
“You don’t see your sister pissing herself, do you? What a little bitch,” he said, disgusted.
“Are you going to kill us?” Marie asked, starting to tremble. She’d lost the color in her face. Horse looked at Jensen, disgusted. What kind of asshole put his sister through something like this—not just this, here, but living in a dump like this, working all day changing diapers for minimum wage?
“I mean, would you really kill people you shared pictures of your daughters with?” Marie asked, studying Picnic’s face. “One of them is about my age, isn’t she? Can’t we work something out? Maybe we can make payments or something.”
Horse snorted and shook his head. Time to move things along.
“You don’t get it, sweetie, this isn’t just about money. We could give a shit about the money. This is about respect and stealing from the club. We let this pissant fuck get away with it, they’ll all start doing it. We don’t let stuff like this slide. Ever. He pays with blood.”
She closed her eyes for second, and Horse saw the moisture hovering on her lashes. Shit, he hated women crying. No, he hated bitches crying, and Marie was just another bitch. He needed to remember that.
“Jeff, why?” she whispered, and the heartbreak and despair in her voice made Painter flinch. Horse grew cold, dark rage building. How dare the little prick look at her like that, pleading with his eyes, and what did he do to deserve her loyalty?
“I wasn’t planning to lose it,” he replied
, his voice full of despair. “I thought I could win it back, make it up somehow. Or that maybe I could hide it in the wire transfers…”
“Shut the fuck up,” Picnic said, smacking the side of Jensen’s head with his free hand. “You don’t talk club business. Even when you’re about to die.”
“There’s another way,” Horse said, deciding to lay things out for her. Might as well get it over with and make damned sure she understood her place. He’d offered her better, but she hadn’t wanted it. Now she’d take what she got, and she better not complain about it. “Paying in blood can mean different things.”
“He doesn’t need to die for that to happen,” she said quickly. “Maybe you can burn down our trailer!”
She smiled at him like she’d won the cake at a cakewalk.
“Oh, we’re gonna do that no matter what,” Horse drawled. “But that’s not blood. I can think of something that is though.”
“What?” Jeff asked, his voice full of desperate hope. “I’ll do anything, I swear. If you give me a chance I’ll crack so many accounts for you, you won’t believe what we can accomplish. I’ll stop smoking, that’ll clear my head, I’ll do a better job…”
His voice trailed off as Horse laughed, and the mohawk guy shook his head and grinned at Picnic.
“You believe this asshole?” he asked. “Seriously, douche, you aren’t making a very good case for yourself, telling us just how much you been slacking.”
Jeff whimpered, and Horse saw Marie jerk forward, as if she wanted to go to him but thought better of it. That pissed him off even more. He wanted that kind of caring from her and she wasted it on her brother instead. But he was getting too worked up too fast, he needed to keep his cool. He took a second to slow down, stretching his neck from side to side, cracking his knuckles. That cleared his head.
“Let’s get a couple of things clear,” he said. “We’re not going to hurt you, Marie.”
“You aren’t?” she asked, and the surprise in her eyes stabbed right through him. She thought he’d hurt her, like her asshat ex, Gary. Might as well call him a monster. He forced himself back on track.