My Perfect Drug (Reapers MC: Ellsberg Chapter Book 2)

by Bijou Hunter

  “I thought you didn’t kill people,” she asks, sounding almost accusatory.

  Fighting laughter, I glance at Rudy. “I don’t, but you already did all the hard work. Look at the little shit on the ground. I swear he must have more blood on the ground than in his body at this point. We can tip him over the edge real quick. You just make the call, and I’ll be your cleanup boy.”

  “You do like to sweep,” she mumbles. Shaking her head, she sighs. “We need to call for help.”

  “The police?”

  “Yes, but maybe not right away. No, wait, maybe we should. We didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “No, no, you didn’t, but the police might not believe you shot him. I might want to keep him alive long enough for him to tell the police I wasn’t the shooter. The word of a Mullen won’t convince anyone.”

  “But it’s my word too.”

  “Yes, Lily Bear, but you fucked a Mullen,” I whisper against her ear while nuzzling the mess of a scarf, “so you’ve been permanently corrupted.”

  “Shut up,” she growls.

  Laughing, I hug her tighter. “I know it’s not funny, but you fucked him up. That’s unbelievably sexy.”

  Lily rolls her eyes and hands me the gun despite my not wanting it. She retrieves her phone from her bullet-ridden purse and calls in the Johansson cavalry.

  “Shut up and listen,” she demands, and I know she isn’t talking to her pop. “I’m at the Mullen car lot, and Rudy Roche showed up here with a gun, and I shot him,” she explains before adding, “Twice. I’m about to call the police, but I was hoping you could get over here before they did.”

  Lily listens for a moment and then sighs painfully. “Yes, you’ll want to bring Pop.”

  Once she hangs up, Lily looks at me and states what she knows I know, “Pop’s a lawyer.”

  “So what’s the plan?” I ask, glancing at Rudy who is now staring at the sky. “Do we let him die, help him die, or try to keep him alive?”

  “Alive, I guess. I mean killing a Roche would probably cause problems for both our families.”

  “What’s happening?” Sissy asks, suddenly next to us.

  Lily flinches before realizing it’s the least terrifying person in the world. “We need to stop Rudy’s bleeding, but I don’t want to touch him.”

  “I’m on it,” Sissy says, doing an excellent impression of a loyal Labrador retriever. Moving casually—happily even—Sissy squats next to Rudy. She begins to remove her jacket to use as a compress, but I yank off mine instead.

  “You’ll freeze, dummy,” I grumble when she only stares at me confused.

  “Now, you will.”

  “I have more body mass.”

  “That sounds fake,” Sissy says before focusing on Rudy. “I’m glad it hurts,” she tells him while applying pressure to his chest and stomach.

  Lily looks up at me. “Maybe you should kick his gun farther away. I don’t want him getting hold of it.”

  I think to point out how he can barely move, but logic isn’t what Lily needs right now. As her adrenaline drops, she looks more and more freaked out by what the fuck just happened. She isn’t the one only either.

  My drunk brother hurries back to the house where he no doubt plans to get sober before the police arrive. He might also be considering whether to call Topher. Usually, that wouldn’t be an option, but Cy is unbelievably drunk and not thinking straight.

  With an arm around Lily, I take her phone and dial 911. “You need to get them here before he dies.”

  “What if they arrive before my pop?”

  “Trust me, Lil. When the cops get a call connected to my family, they are in no hurry to arrive.”

  Lily leans against me but just as quickly reaches for Hart who moves toward his mom.

  “Stay away from that man.”

  Hart looks at Lily and then at his mom. Tugging away, he wants to mimic his mom. Haydee doesn’t help by running to Sissy and waving over Hart.

  “Let him go,” I tell her. “Wouldn’t hurt for them to see what happens when people fuck with the Johanssons.”

  Lily’s lovely face twists into a pissy frown, and I can’t restrain my laughter.

  “What in the blazes is so funny?” she demands.

  “You’re kidding, right? The Mullens hate the Roche family. We hate your family too, but not like the Roches. We've been at war with them for generations. One of my first memories was Topher telling me to point and laugh when one of the Roche kids fell at the fair,” I explain and then let go of her and point at whining Rudy. “And this shithead has been sniffing around you for years, and I couldn’t do shit about it. Remember how you told me it would be a bad thing if his face falls off his head?”

  Lily rolls her eyes, likely remembering how sloshed I was when I made the threat to remove Rudy’s face Hannibal Lector style.

  “Now this fucker shows up here with the intention of killing me or my brother, who yeah, isn’t such a big deal, but he could have hurt Sissy or the kids. He thought he deserved revenge because his precious Lily fucked someone else. Asshole came here looking for trouble and you, Lily Fucking Johansson, shot him twice. Now he’s bleeding out on my family’s property. How is that not hilarious?”

  “Asshole,” Rudy hollers.

  Sissy slaps him in the forehead. “Shut up.”

  “Yeah, shut up,” Hart adds. “You’re going to die saying bad words.”

  “God won’t let you into Heaven,” Haydee says.

  Rudy bursts into tears and I descend into hysterics. Leaning against the SUV, I can barely stand from laughing so hard. Lily rolls her eyes again, but she isn’t mad at me. She probably isn’t angry at Rudy either. After all, she fucked him up, and now he’s crying. No, she’s pissed because her father is on his way and there's no selling any positives in this situation. The man’s known about Lily and me for less than twenty-four hours, and she’s already shooting losers looking for revenge against a Mullen.

  Nope. Nada. Nothing.

  Cooper Johansson won’t find a single damn thing positive about the situation he’s racing toward. Yet Lily keeps hoping everyone can get along long enough for her to make her dream a reality.

  Again, that’s just never going to happen no matter how much my badass good girl wills it to be.

  THE PRINCESS

  Dash’s laughter drives me bonkers but only because it makes me want to laugh too. Rudy’s crying tickles a very nasty part of me. I’ve disliked the little cad for most of my life. A part of me feared Rudy too. Despite his gawky body and lame attempts to seduce me, I did occasionally worry about what might happen if he ever got me alone somewhere. I even had a nightmare years ago in which my car broke down, and Rudy stopped to help me. Soon, he turned into a Yeti and tore off my clothes.

  Now he’s crying like a baby on the ground. How does even the sanest person avoid laughing? Not that I feel all that rational at the moment.

  To add insult to injury, Sissy keeps slapping Rudy’s forehead whenever he cusses at Dash or me. Her kids think this is hilarious and laugh at him which makes him angry which causes him to sob-cuss which starts the cycle again.

  Giving into my laughter, I realize I don’t even care if Rudy dies. He threatened me, my baby, my best friend, her babies, and Dash. I gave him a chance to back off. Rudy brought his suffering onto himself. Despite their rivalry with the Mullens, the Roche family is their own worst enemy. They always make situations worse and self-destruct on a regular basis. Dash claims the family has so many kids to ensure the Roche name won’t die off from all the stupidity-caused deaths. Just like others in his family, Rudy is a loser who came looking for trouble and found my gun instead. Why should I feel guilty?

  As quickly as I’m certain I don’t feel a hint of guilt, I detect the distinct sound of approaching Harleys. I’m immediately struck with a wave of shame because I’ve created a mess my pop needs to clean up. On my first day living honestly, I’ve possibly killed the son of a psycho my father needs to work with on a regular
basis.

  Losing my confidence, I struggle not to hide my face against Dash and cry louder than Rudy. A good, hard sobbing session feels like the right reaction under these circumstances, but I’m so hormonal right now that I can’t tell if I’ll cry, scream, or giggle next.

  With my pop arriving, I feel as if running should be a valid option. Except Johanssons don’t run from problems. We crush them under overwhelming force. As the crying man on the ground can attest to.

  To my surprise, Pop brings along Colton, Vaughn, Quaid, and Uncles Judd and Tucker. Once off their bikes, they move in unison toward us, looking like a wall of gruff muscle. How can Dash survive against so much force? Maybe he ought to be the one who runs.

  “If you cry, he’ll back down,” Dash whispers in my ear. “Men like your father can’t handle their women crying.”

  “I’m the one who told you that,” I mumble.

  “Yeah, but you seem to have forgotten. I think it was the sight of them walking in sync like that,” he says, shivering against me. “If the Reapers were a boy band, that’s what their music video would look like.”

  Laughing maniacally, I think I might be losing my mind. How did this day turn to a pile of dog poo so quickly? When I imagine Dash knowing I used the word “poo,” I laugh harder.

  Based on Pop’s expression, he isn’t impressed with my amusement. He gives me a disapproving look he usually saves for Colton. Laughter gone, I burst into tears and hide my face against Dash’s chest. The world gets much safer in his arms, but I can still hear my father sighing heavily.

  Peeking out, I catch Sissy staring at me in horror. Shocked by my tears, she’s ready to ditch Rudy.

  “It’s okay. I’m okay,” I tell her and then wrap my arms tighter around a shivering Dash. “My pop is going to yell at me.”

  Dash nuzzles my forehead and whispers, “He might just be upset that most of the sobs are from Rudy.”

  I’m startled by how amused Dash sounds. He’s oblivious to the incoming threat as much as the cold. His enemy, Rudy Roche, is bleeding and crying on the ground. There’s no denying the childlike glee on his face even after he pulls himself together to face my pop.

  “What the fuck is this?” Pop finally demands once he realizes no one is talking to him.

  Before I can answer, Dash announces, “Rudy came here to kill me for knocking up his dream girl. Then his dream girl shot him twice.”

  Ignoring Dash’s burst of laughter, I add, “Rudy saw me with the kids, and he had a gun, and I worried he might shoot Sissy and her kids.”

  “And you,” a still laughing Dash adds to keep our story focused on what Pop will care about.

  “Yes, and he was angry with me, and he had a gun, and I remembered what you said about shooting them before they shoot you. No, it’s before they shoot me. So I shot him, and he didn’t drop his gun, so I shot him again.”

  “I kicked his gun away,” Dash says, nodding helpfully.

  “And I’m applying pressure!” Sissy announces and waves at my brother. “Hey, Colton!”

  Everyone looks at my brother who shrugs. “What? I’m the only likable one in our group, and she’s clearly nervous.”

  “I think he’s dead,” Sissy says, still smiling before realizing maybe she shouldn’t be. Finally, she shrugs. “Or he passed out. I’m not a doctor, though, so I can’t tell.”

  I don’t know why her “I’m not a doctor” comment makes me laugh, but I get the worst giggles. My laughter releases a million tons of pent-up stress. Unfortunately, Pop isn’t a fan of my laughter and reaches for me. I’m halfway between him and Dash when my love decides to play tug-of-war.

  “Knock it off, Mullen,” Pop growls.

  “Chill, Johansson. Your daughter is my jacket. Do you really want your third grandbaby’s daddy to end up as a popsicle?”

  Pop glances back at Judd as if to say, “Do you see the shit I have to put up with?”

  “What do we do?” I ask, crying again. “The police are coming, and I shot Rudy.”

  “Screw Roche,” Pop growls before softening his tone to add, “Fuck the police too. I got this handled. I want you to take Sissy and her kids to our house. Don’t talk to anyone outside of the club until you hear from me.”

  “But shouldn’t I talk to the cops first?”

  Pop steps between Dash and me. “Lily, you’re pregnant, and you should avoid stress. Now get going while I figure out shit.”

  “Cy’s inside the house,” Dash tells Pop. “He’s drunk, and he’ll swear on the Bible he didn’t see or hear anything.”

  “Of course, he will,” Pop says and leans over to growl at Dash, “You’re not making any friends with this bullshit, Mullen.”

  “I didn’t invite the fucker over,” Dash growls back in a rare show of anger. “The Roche family might make the best meth in Kentucky, but they’re fuckwits, and that one’s been prowling around Lily for years. You should have killed him long ago.”

  Pop doesn’t appreciate having his manhood challenged and makes a move for Dash.

  “I’m right here,” I complain when Pop bumps into me. “Do you even see me?”

  Pop throws his hands into the air and roars in frustration. I flinch at the sound of his anger, but Colton decides our father’s reaction is hilarious. He won't even stop laughing when Tucker smacks him in the head.

  “You should be careful with that head-hitting move,” Dash tells my uncle. “We do that a lot in my family, and it certainly hasn’t made us smarter.”

  Tucker turns his glare to Pop who has been known to smack his younger brother on many, many occasions.

  “Oh, settle your tits,” Pop gripes over his shoulder at Tucker. “You were plenty fucking stupid before I ever touched you. Why do you think I smacked you in the first fucking place?”

  “Uh-huh,” Tucker grumbles.

  “Well, you did drop MJ so...” Colton says, still snickering.

  “Shut up,” Pop and Tucker say in unison, but Colton is oblivious to their anger. I think he’s officially hit the point where their criticism has become background noise in his head. While Colton’s built up a resistance to my father’s anger, I feel like a babe in the woods.

  “The police are coming,” Dash reminds everyone when my father and uncle spend too much time glaring at each other.

  “So he’s staying here?” Quaid asks, gesturing toward Dash.

  Vaughn frowns. “How is that a good idea?”

  Wearing a similar frown, Judd crosses his arms. “What about his father? Is that fuck-twat on his way over?”

  “Did your idiot brother call him?” Pop asks Dash.

  “How the fuck would I know?”

  Pop leans in closer and growls, “I’m close to burying you next to Roche.”

  “The cops are coming!” I scream, scaring the pants off everyone. “What is the plan?”

  Pop shakes off the horror of my high-pitched wail before saying, “You’re leaving with the girl and little Mullens. We’re staying here and dealing with this shit. Now go.”

  “What about Dash?”

  “What about him?” Pop asks, and I swear he’s challenging me. Blame it on the hormones, but I immediately get in his face which isn’t easy because he’s half a foot taller.

  “You better not kill my man, or I’ll pack up and leave Ellsberg for good,” I growl up at him.

  “Don’t threaten me, Lily.”

  “Don’t push me too far, Pop.”

  “Damn,” Colton says before bursting into laughter again.

  I’m not kidding, and neither is Pop. We’re pissed, and having our first real argument. There is genuine turmoil in the Johansson family. Yet, for whatever reason, my brother’s laughter sets it off in the other men. Quaid breaks down first, likely not feeling all that invested in the battle since he barely knows Pop or me. Vaughn laughs next, but he finds a lot of unfunny things hilarious. Judd, though, is the one who breaks my concentration. The man rarely goofs around in these situations, but he laughs so hard he ends up
wiping his eyes.

  “I don’t get it,” Tucker says, looking around.

  Standing behind me, Dash rests his hands on my shoulders. “Your pop is right,” he says, and I swing around. He fights laughter while feigning terror at my anger. “Only about you going somewhere safe.”

  “I see cop lights,” Colton says and suddenly gets serious. “They’re a few minutes out based on their speed.”

  “Told you the cops take their fucking time when it comes to Mullens,” Dash says and kisses my forehead. “I bet your mom is worried. Go let her see you’re safe.”

  I’d been so worried about Pop’s reaction that I hadn’t even imagined my mom. The moment her face appears in my mind, I’m back to crying.

  “She’s my mom,” I say like a doofus.

  Sissy stands up and hugs me. “If we’re leaving, can I take the bags I threw on the lawn?”

  “Colt, help them get their shit and follow them back to the house,” Pop says.

  My brother immediately shakes his head. “I want to stay.”

  Pop rolls his eyes so hard that I worry he might have a stroke. He turns to my brother, glares in the scariest face my handsome pop is capable of, and then turns back to me.

  “I think Audrey was right about not beating you kids enough.”

  “You didn’t beat us at all,” I point out through my tears.

  “Lucky,” Sissy whispers while waving over her kids.

  My tears make keeping up with all the activity a little confusing. I tell Dash to get himself a jacket before he freezes. He responds by kissing my head and whispering, “You did some solid shooting, Tex. Now go keep our mutt warm.”

  His mention of our baby makes me cry harder. Sissy guides me away from the men and toward my SUV. Behind us, I swear Pop and the guys begin laughing when they get a better look at Rudy. Their amusement sends me into giggles.

  What in the blazes is happening to me and will it last for six more months?