Chaos: A Reapers MC Boxset

by Elizabeth Knox

  Damon clears his throat while his boots get closer to me. “There’s a rumor about a charter in North Carolina but nothing has been confirmed. If the rumor’s true, I’m betting they’re on their way to that clubhouse for some backup. It won’t do them any good. Everyone here will be long dead by then and I don’t even feel bad. This club has not only abused children and beat women, demeaning them in every way possible. They fuckin’ sell kids.”

  “They what?” Widow snarls.

  “They sell children to the highest bidders, specifically girls because they aren’t useful in their eyes. They’re vile fucks.” Damon tells him.

  I’m trying not to listen, doing my best to focus on Cobra but part of me needs a break from this. If I keep focusing on him too hard, I may lose my shit and end up loosening the pressure I have on his wound. “You okay, brother?” Damon asks, placing a hand on the back of my shoulder.

  “As okay as I’m gonna be,” I quickly respond, not trying to be rude, but damn shit is intense right now.

  “He said he was callin’ Zane while we were still dealin’ with those . . . ugh,” Widow grunts.

  “Alright, what did Zane say?” Damon asks.

  “Zane called a NP like Sakura named Cheyenne. Apparently, she just moved to the area and she’s a friend of the club or somethin’. Not really sure. I didn’t get the specifics, but if we’re lucky she can save Cobra’s life.”

  “Smart thinkin’ Mouser,” Damon commends me and places his hand over my blood-soaked shirt. “I’ve got him from here. Take a break. Hell, you look like you need to take a breather.”

  I stand up, staring down at my crimson red hands and can’t believe what this night has turned into. Widow walks out of the small room we’re in as headlights come across the area and I go out beside him. If it’s trouble, we need to be prepared. A long haired, tan looking brunette approaches us with a bag over her shoulder.

  “Please tell me you’re Cheyenne,” I call out to her.

  “No, I’m Mary fucking Poppins. Get out of my way, asshole.” She runs past us and goes into the room and Widow decides to stand guard at the door in case anyone else decides to show up. I kneel down on the floor next to Cheyenne and Damon and she’s making obviously displeased faces.

  “Will he be okay?” Damon asks.

  She looks up from staring down at Cobra and it makes me feel like she’s going to bitch slap him. “He’s been shot in the neck. I’m surprised he’s even still alive but you must’ve been doing at least one thing right tonight. I won’t make any promises, but I’ll try to save your guy. Now if you would please remove your hands, that would be great.” Cheyenne unzips her bag, puts on a pair of latex gloves and squirts some sort of liquid over the wound and grabs a headband with some sort of light on it, turning it on and looking down onto his neck. She grabs something else from the bag and it looks like a pair of tweezers, but I don’t think they’re called that. The word forceps keeps coming to my mind.

  “Alright. One of you is going to have to pull things out of my bag for me while I work on your guy. I can already tell you he was lucky as shit when it comes to where he was shot,” Cheyenne tells us as she puts the forceps inside the opening and searches for the bullet. Within a second she has a small round and pulls it out of his body, pours more of the liquid on it and looks to us. “How many rounds were fired?”

  “One, just one.”

  “Alright, I’m gonna stitch him up but this guy must have a guardian angel. The bullet went in above his clavicle and barely missed his external jugular. If it was a centimeter over your friend would be dead.”

  “He’s gonna be okay?” I ask, unable to believe it.

  “Did you not listen to anything I just said?” Cheyenne retorts.

  “Thank you, Cheyenne. Why did he go unconscious?” Damon asks.

  “It could be shock, the overall experience of being shot in the neck is terrifying. It’s likely he had an anxiety attack and his body just completely shut down as a way to protect him.”

  “Thank you so much for coming out here and helping us tonight. We’re indebted to you.” Damon goes on to tell her.

  “You’re welcome. I’m not a fan of what you guys stand for and whatever but, my brother tells me you’re some of the good guys and I had the pleasure of helping Alexa when she really needed someone so . . . I guess you can thank her and my brother for making me change my mind a little bit about y’all when it comes to my thoughts on bikers.”

  “Who’s your brother?” Damon asks her.

  “Boomer, from the Corrupt Kings MC in Wyoming.” Cheyenne replies. Ah, they’re newer allies to the Reapers MC. I think we only teamed up with them because we had the same common enemy at the time. Hopefully it sticks and we remain allies for a while.

  “I can’t thank you enough. When will Cobra be able to ride?” Damon gets straight down to business, causing Cheyenne to laugh.

  “Okay, buddy. Listen up, and listen up good. Your friend here is lucky to be alive and has some serious recovery to do over the next few days. He had a hole blown in his fucking neck and I’m going to stitch him up, but if you’re a persistent motherfucker and insist on him riding out tomorrow he’ll do something stupid and tear them. Then you have the problem of a gaping hole and possible infection. If you’d like to roll the dice regarding his life by all means take him home tomorrow, but if you want him to have a shot, give him five days to rest. I have an extra room at the place I’m renting and lucky for you my lease isn’t up for another week.”

  “Didn’t you just move here?” I question, knowing I heard Zane correctly.

  Cheyenne nods, “Yeah, I did, but I don’t like it here. So, your buddy gonna stay here and heal for a few days?”

  “Yes. Mouser, can you stay with Cobra for a couple days while Widow, Chaz and I head back home?” Damon asks me. Chaz, shit. I forgot he was even here with us. The guy is so good at blending in in whatever situation he’s gotten into. Like a fly on the fuckin’ wall.

  “Whatever you need me to do, Prez.”

  “Perfect. Let me get to stitching your buddy up and one of you can help me get him in the car afterwards. As soon as we get to my place we’ll set him up with an IV, antibiotics and pain killers.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  And little by little, she found courage for it all

  ~JH Hard

  Sakura

  Three days have passed since Mouser went out on the road with Cobra, Widow, Chaz and Damon. Widow and Damon got back midday yesterday and Damon told us at the clubhouse how Cobra was shot and Mouser stayed back in Kansas while he recovered from his wounds. He needed a few days to heal up before he could make the ride back here to Vegas, and even then, it would still take them longer than it did on the way up.

  The positive thing is that it seems like Cobra is going to be okay. I know his girl Izzy is going to freak when she finds out what’s happened. Izzy and I get along as well as Ivy and I do, so Damon asked me to be in the room when he tells Izzy what’s happened.

  She had a long day at the station working on her show and was shooting some commercials afterward, so she won’t be here for a little while. I called Mouser on the phone earlier this afternoon and we spoke for a few minutes. He told me Cobra seems to be doing better, but because of the pain he’s been out of it. Which would be accurate, especially if that Cheyenne woman doesn’t have a lot of pain medicines on her. Honestly, she could just be alternating Tylenol or Ibuprofen so he won’t become reliant on the pain medicine. If I were in her shoes, I’d probably be doing the same thing. Opioid addiction is such a huge problem here in the States from what I can tell.

  When we were chatting, Mouser did fill me in on why they left, what they did, and essentially how they were protecting me. It shouldn’t blow my mind how people can betray those they work with, yet it still does. I can’t figure out how honor and loyalty means nothing to some people, like that man Vinny who was working with the Heretics. It didn’t matter that the Reapers were good to him and paid him
well for his services. Instead he wanted more and made the conscious choice to betray them. For what exactly? So he could get a quick payday? It’s sickening.

  “I appreciate you being here when I tell her.” Damon says, suddenly standing directly beside me. I didn’t even hear him come up to me, and he’s one of those guys who walks with determination. Basically, he’s loud. Annoyingly loud just like Widow. I heard those two were part of another MC before they patched into the Reapers, so I naturally assumed they picked that up from whoever they were with before.

  I’m standing in front of the small makeshift bar in the clubhouse and sip on my glass of ice water with lemon, nodding. “You know she’s been going insane for days. We should’ve told her something before now, and knowing she has to come here after work is only causing her more stress.”

  Damon runs his hand through his hair, “I know it is, and I’ll apologize to her for that but I didn’t see another option.”

  “I just gave you another option. If she’d found out before now but knew he was okay she may be sleeping a little easier and less stressed.” I say, not that it matters because we can’t change the past.

  Since Cobra hasn’t really been with it the past couple days, it would’ve killed her not being able to communicate with him, so I do understand Damon’s reasoning for acting the way he did— even if I think it was messed up.

  “I can’t change it now. She’ll be here soon, and then the three of us will head into my office and we’ll chat about everything.”

  “Yeah. You said that Cheyenne woman has been taking good care of him?” Cheyenne is an ally, who isn’t a big fan of MCs from the sounds of it, even though her brother is in an MC himself.

  Damon chuckles, “Yeah, she literally moved to Wichita to get away from MCs. Ironic how she’s in the one place we needed her to be in the most.”

  “That’s some luck you have there,” I mutter.

  “Yeah, I don’t know if it was God, a higher power or whatever, but I’m grateful we aren’t burying a body.”

  “So am I,” I comment back to him.

  The door opens to the club and instantly I’m thinking it’s Izzy. Mentally preparing myself for the emotional wreck I think she’s going to be, I take a couple steps forward and then see Kat with her dark locks. Glancing up at the clock on the wall I realize Izzy won’t be here for a bit, so I take a seat next to Dixon on one of the couches and peer over at his phone.

  He’s on one of those dating apps. Or, maybe I should call it a fucking app. People in this day and age don’t know how to date, they just want to meet up and get laid. “What’re you doing?” I ask, staring at the beautiful Latina woman on his phone.

  He sighs, “Doin’ what I always do, gettin’ ready to make another damn mistake.”

  Furrowing my brows, I ask, “What do you mean by that?”

  “I have the worst luck when it comes to women. Dunno why, but they chew me up and spit me out. I’m gettin’ to the point where there’s nothin’ more that I want than to settle down with a solid woman. Make her my ol’ lady and have a couple of rugrats runnin’ around. I see Kade, now Damon and . . . shit girl, I ain’t gettin’ any younger.”

  “And you think this app is going to help you find the woman your destined to be with?” I ask, cocking a brow.

  He chuckles, “Probably not, but at least I can get my dick wet.”

  “That’s your problem right there. You’re thinking with your dick and not the head that should be leading your decisions. How serious are you about wanting to settle down?”

  “Very,” He replies.

  “Alright, then no more app for you.” I take his phone from his hand and delete every single dating app off it.

  “Whoa. What the hell, Sakura?”

  “Don’t get sassy with me. You want to settle down, so we’re going to make it happen. I’m going to make it my personal mission to help you find a good woman. All you need to do is keep your dick dry, like the desert we’re in and be patient.”

  “No pussy?” Dixon whines.

  “No, and if you feel the need pull up PornHub and whack your mole.”

  “Jesus Christ. I’ve been around plenty of people, but never have I heard a chick tell me to whack my mole.” Dixon tosses his head back and busts out into laughter, his entire face turning red in the process.

  For the next hour I’m chatting with Dixon and Hawk who ends up coming into the club a little bit after I grill Dixon on the choices he’s made with searching for women. For some reason I get the feeling Hawk is trying to set his buddy up too. There’s a glimmer in his eye that usually signifies someone has a plan up their sleeve, so whenever I can get Hawk alone, I’m going to chat with him about it and see what our two heads being put together can do. Who knows. Maybe it’ll lead to a successful date!

  Izzy comes into the club a little after eight and with her hair being freshly dyed everyone shifts their attention on her bright violet hair. Throughout it has peekaboo areas of a fuchsia color that just makes you want to stare. “Hey Izzy,” I greet her, able to tell the second she comes through the door she’s freaking out even worse than we ever imagined.

  Her eyes go from one wall to the next looking for the person she’s concerned about. “I didn’t see Cobra’s bike out front. What’s going on, Sakura? Something has to be wrong. I can feel it in my bones. Something isn’t right.” She doesn’t even say hi, but I knew she’d cut right to the chase.

  “Why don’t the three of us head into my office?” Damon suggests from behind me. Izzy gives me a look, almost as if she thinks I’m going to give her some sort of warning, but I nod my head, assuring my friend it’ll be okay.

  She still seems to be nervous so I go up to her, take her hand in mine and walk beside her while we head to Damon’s office. Even as we get through the door and he shuts it behind us I sit next to her, offering support in whatever way I can.

  Damon is the Prez, so he takes the lead as he sits behind his desk, places one hand in the other and looks at Izzy with caring eyes. “The first thing I’m going to tell you is that Cobra is okay. He’s alive. He’s doing okay.”

  “Oh God, so he was hurt . . .” Izzy’s voice falters, confirming what she must’ve known.

  “Yes, he was. He was shot in the neck by a clubwhore at his birth father’s club. But we were lucky enough to have another nurse practitioner in the area like Sakura who acted swiftly and efficiently, saving his life. From what I’ve heard, the bullet entered his body at the perfect area. Meaning there won’t be too much damage. It didn’t harm any major blood vessels or veins. He’s just in a bit of pain right now and they’re managing it the best they can.”

  “Is he awake?” Izzy asks, clenching my hand with a vice grip.

  “He’s fading in and out of it. Cheyenne, the NP, believes it’s because of the amount of pain he’s in. She has said he’s coming out of his haze a bit more, though.”

  “Will I be able to talk to him s-soon?” Izzy asks, stumbling over her words. I can’t imagine the horrible way she’s been feeling the past couple of days, not hearing from the one person she loves more than anyone else on this planet. “I mean, I-I . . . fuck, I’ve been so s-scared.” Izzy declares with tears flooding over her cheeks. They rush down like a dam that’s just been broken. Placing my hand over her cheek I try to wipe away the tears and offer her some semblance of comfort.

  “He’s okay, Izzy. Cobra is okay.” I remind her.

  “I’m hoping he’ll be awake sometime tonight so you can talk to him. I can’t imagine the way you’ve been feeling and I’m so sorry I didn’t say anything to you before. I was wrong in keeping this from you and please accept my sincerest apologies for doing so.” Damon says, looking at Izzy in the sincerest way.

  I’m starting to realize that things can get pretty heated in the club lifestyle, but at the end of the day everyone is always going to be here for the other person. It’s different than what I’m used to, but these people view each other as family, even though the same bl
ood doesn’t flow through their veins.

  Just like my uncle and I, blood doesn’t matter.

  Families can be made through friendship.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The person you love should be where you can calm your soul. They should be your safest place to be yourself. Life is hard enough. That person should be your solace.

  ~ Unknown

  Mouser

  This chick Cheyenne doesn’t have much in her shoebox of an apartment. I always thought small apartments were secluded to cities like New York and Los Angeles, but man, was I wrong. She has two bedrooms in this joint, but her second bedroom is practically the size of a walk-in closet. The twin bed that was tossed on the floor barely fits in here and I’m sittin’ down in a bean bag chair with my ass hittin’ the wood floor below me. I know I’m not that heavy, so these beans must’ve gotten out at some point. Fuck, maybe there’s a rat in here takin’ the little Styrofoam balls to its nest.

  Turning to check on Cobra I see he’s peacefully sleeping. A few hours back he was finally with it enough to call and talk to Izzy. I overheard him arguin’ with her about the fact she wanted to come up and visit him. He told her no and was stern with his decision.

  If I were in his shoes, I’d be sayin’ the same thing. The chances are slim that the Lucifer’s Heretics will be back here before we’re on the road back home, but you can never be too careful. When it comes to our women, we’re fearless fuckers who will cut down any man in our way.

  A few of them did run off the night we put an end to Titan’s wrath. So, I imagine we’re going to have to deal with some havoc sooner or later. That’s only if they have a death wish, though.

  Cheyenne had left a couple hours ago and told me to keep an eye on Cobra while she was gone. She works at a small clinic in town and damn, she bitches about this place every chance she gets. It’s obvious she isn’t happy there, so I don’t know why she continues to work at a place she doesn’t like. I couldn’t imagine that, having to spend so many hours every day in a place that only caused stress.