Gentle On My Mind (Reapers MC: Pema Chapter Book 1)

by Bijou Hunter

  We reach the entrance before anyone interacts with us. Yet, once we’re through the set of front doors, a few women—all dressed in matching white dresses—approach in mass. Violet pauses to smile at them.

  “I came!” she exclaims with far too much enthusiasm.

  “Good job, brother,” Nevaeh snarks to me as she walks by. “Nice to know you’ve found her clit.”

  A lesser man would react. Someone like River, perhaps. Yet, I remain stony-faced.

  “Yes, and you brought friends,” Annalise Cosgrove says, sizing up our group as her sister, Andrea, frowns at where Nevaeh disappeared into a crowd.

  “They heard how kind you were to me and realized they might be missing out.”

  “Well, we wouldn’t want that,” Andrea mutters and then literally seethes at the sight of Kiefer in our group filling up their lobby.

  The women all look to Kambree, who gasps dramatically and backs away. Avery instantly leans into her fake boyfriend and whispers something. I don’t know what she says, but Kiefer looks at her as if she might be nuts. Then, he catches on and smirks.

  “Where should we sit?” Violet asks, sounding so innocent and vulnerable that I nearly buy into her ruse. “I want to be able to see and hear everything.”

  From what I know about the Cosgrove family, their women are coldhearted cunts. They ought to catch on to Violet’s game. Yet, her childlike façade is so convincing, they can’t seem to settle on a route to take. Yes, the Reapers’ choice to be here is clearly a warning shot in their direction. However, when Violet stares with her big, hopeful eyes, they hesitate.

  “Up on the top deck would be best,” Annalise says in a soothing voice detached from the cruel hostility in her eyes.

  When I glance back at Colton, he stops fiddling with the front buttons on his woman’s shirt and realizes they’re sticking us up where they can keep an eye on our group. He flashes the Idyllwild women a winning smile. Based on their icy grins, they’re aware of who he is. Then, they look at me in unison, still wearing those snakelike smiles. I only stare back and recall Quint from “Jaws” talking about a shark’s lifeless black eyes. I hope that’s what they see when they look into mine.

  Up the stairs, the Reapers’ Pema Chapter treks to a second-story balcony where we file down row after row. Gunnar carries Vi before resting her in a chair where she looks winded despite her husband’s assist.

  I have no fucking idea where Nevaeh is now or if she’ll join us. I try to spot her down below in the hundreds of people. Even with her trucker cap, she remains hidden. Or maybe she left.

  Violet gets comfortable as Raven sits next to her. Vaughn takes the spot next to his wife. Sylvie slides into the seat next to our father and will likely be asleep five minutes into the sermon. Cavalry might not even stay awake that long.

  “Your sisters attacked each other like cats when we were driving over,” Violet tells me. “There was hissing and weird yowling noises. It was very entertaining.”

  “I broke it up with my soothing touch,” Raven says, wearing the smile of a confident liar.

  “This is fun,” Colton announces from behind us. “It’s like being back in school on the first day when you realize you have nine more months before summer vacation. Just awesome.”

  There’s some awkward chuckling before the realization sets in that we have to sit through the sermon now. Others might feel let down by how none of the Idyllwild people pitched a fit at our appearance. I always knew they would grin and bear it. Initially, anyway. But our enemy is somewhere in this building, stewing with rage over how their gambit with Violet backfired. She not only told me, but I fucking told everyone. Now, we’re on their territory, and they have no clue what we’ll do next.

  The toughest part now is trying not to nap. Not that I don’t see how Amon Cosgrove wins over most of his parishioners. He’s got that “aw shucks” shit down pat, and his sermon is filled with promises of better days and bigger fortunes. But, of course, his flock must prove their devotion by supporting the church. No matter if the business is drugs, weapons, sex, or God, it’s all about the dollar signs.

  When the collection basket works its way down our aisle, I pitch in five twenties. Dad does the same. All the men do. Well, except for Kiefer. I catch him fighting with Avery over adding even a twenty-dollar bill. She finally slaps his hand hard enough for him to relent and drop the cash into the basket.

  Word must have gotten to Amon about our generous nature. Or possibly, he figures we should have put in more since we make so much cash from our whores and drugs. I have no idea what these assholes think our business entails.

  “What a pleasant surprise to find so many new faces with us this Sunday,” he says, using way too many words to say “thank you for the moolah.”

  Colton moves through the crowd of Reapers and stands next to me. “Your people invited our people, and I was like, ‘Hey, that’s a great way to get friendly with people, you know?’ Yeah, so then I asked if anyone else wanted to come be friendly, and they were all like, ‘Sure, man.’ So here we are. Oh, and you did a really great performance. I was riveted, man.”

  Amon can’t figure out if Colton’s a moron or if our president is putting on a performance.

  As for me, when Amon looks into my eyes, I hope he sees his death. Especially after he smiles at Violet and uses her full name in greeting.

  “The women of the Community Outreach Committee spoke highly of you.”

  I’ve never been prouder of the twins than when they refuse to giggle at the cock thing. Amon suddenly turns to me and leans in while the crowd around us begins to move. In the chaos of so many people jammed together, Violet gets surrounded by those bitches from the coffee shop.

  “I want to apologize for the trouble my brother gave you over the firehouse renovation,” Amon tells me. “Bufford is still learning the ropes and made a split-second decision which proved to be a mistake.”

  “I understand,” I say as he shakes my hand and then smiles at Colton.

  His charm offensive means nothing to me as my focus remains on the whispering women around Violet. My mom struggles to break through the sudden mass of people. Before I start shoving these fucking assholes out of the way, Nevaeh appears next to Violet. I don’t know what she says, but the women gasp in horror and back away. Soon, my sister elbows her way through the group with Violet close behind. Colton reaches over to shake Amon’s hand.

  “Real fine service. Is there potato salad at this after-party jamboree thing?”

  Right then, Amon realizes he isn’t rid of us just yet. We’re here to show off our numbers, not to make nice with the enemy. And if he thinks kissing our asses will keep him alive, he doesn’t understand how I know him better than his own parishioners do. His dreams of becoming a God-blessed crime boss will end just as the lives of many wannabe mobsters often do—with a bullet.

  THE CHAPTER WHERE VIOLET NAVARRO IS ENOUGH

  THE GHOST

  Delayed reactions are my forte. When something bad happens, I set an internal clock, counting down to when I’ll suffer the consequences of the stressful event. Rarely do I react immediately. When Shelby and her merry band of bikers arrived at O’Meara’s house, I casually went along with them. Weeks later, I began to unravel. Once triggered, I’m a ticking time bomb.

  That’s why I warn Maverick after the church service. “They called me a whore,” I tell him that night. “I know they’re evil bitches, but their words got under my skin. Sooner or later, they’ll break free and make me go bananas. Prepare yourself.”

  Maverick watches me with his passive green eyes as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. However, I know he understands. I’m also very aware he’s plotting revenge against them.

  My already lit fuse burns hotter after Raven and Vaughn leave. I hadn’t expected to get so attached to them. Raven’s personality turned from cold to hot, and her warmth infected me. I wanted to be close to her in the way I am with Shelby. But now, she’s as far away as my adoptive mom.
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  “We’ll visit them in a few weeks,” Maverick promises, wrapping me in his arms when I cry over their absence. “They’ll also be back soon.”

  He’s right, of course. I can also talk to them every day online when Avery and Savannah do. There’s no reason for my dramatics, but my burning fuse leaves me on edge.

  Then, two days after Raven leaves and two before Shelby arrives, I explode.

  “I need to go hunting,” I insist to Maverick one evening after he returns from the firehouse. I grip his shoulders and stare into his eyes. “I know you’ve thought of places we can go. You’re always thinking, and I need this.”

  Maverick doesn’t react. The more out of control I become, the more closed off he seems.

  “I do know a place,” he says, cupping my face. “But we do this thing quickly, okay? The weather is bad.”

  After quickly dressing in my “whore” outfit, I look at my reflection, and the Color Bunch’s words return.

  “Sad to see you addicted to that man’s cum,” whispered Teal Blonde, aka Kambree.

  “It’s not her fault,” said Crimson Blonde, aka Andrea Cosgrove. “She got a taste for it on the streets as a teen whore.”

  “Ladies, we should pray for her,” added Bumblebee Blonde, aka Annalise Cosgrove. “Only the Lord can fix what so much jizz has broken.”

  Their words were no more biting than teenage trash talk. I shouldn’t be bothered. Except their mocking feeds my nagging worry that I can’t be Violet Majors. I’ll always remain the girl from my past. I can learn to skate, train to fight with the twins, and make a life with Maverick. Yet, my past will never let go. All my big plans of reclaiming myself are a mere delusion.

  So tonight, I choose to dress up like a slut and entice a handsy man to take advantage. Once he does, I’ll hurt him like he wants to hurt me. Majors women know how to handle an asshole. I’ll prove I can be like them. Violet Navarro failed against O’Meara. She never stood up to her parents. She let kids bully her in school. She was a flop. I refuse to be her anymore.

  At the empty honkytonk just outside of Louisville, Maverick lingers nearby as usual. I trust he’ll watch out for me if I get in over my head. I always do, too. But I’ve been working with Avery on how to fight like a woman.

  “My brother teaches you moves that work for him as a tall man with powerful upper body strength,” Avery said one afternoon while Io napped. “I’ll show you how to fight as a smaller, weaker person. With my techniques, you might actually win.”

  I plan to use them tonight on this slobbering monster cornering me outside the honkytonk. His beard is covered with half-eaten peanuts. His fat fingers reach for me. I ball my hands into fists, planning to punch him in the throat and kick him in the knee. I’ll be Avery Majors.

  Except as he paws at me, I realize I’m just Violet Navarro. I can’t erase my past. The ghosts of those women will forever haunt me. I will always know my parents’ love was conditional. My body will never forget O’Meara’s touch. I’m stuck inside a battered person with back problems from standing hours in those fucking heels because a monster demanded his idea of a perfect wife. I can’t free my mind forever destroyed by those years in O’Meara’s hellhouse.

  I’m Violet Navarro, and I don’t want to beat up this man. Why am I out in the cold, facing off against a loser? Shouldn’t I be safe in our silly hotel room with Maverick’s arms around me?

  I lose my voice. Now unable to cry for help, I stand passively and wait for pain. I’ve reverted back to who I am deep inside.

  But Maverick doesn’t need me to call out to him. When I don’t react, he punches the slobbering pervert in the kidneys, surprising the asshole from behind. The man attempts a sloppy attack, which Maverick effortlessly blocks. I watch him make quick work of the drunk pervert. I used to envy Maverick for being so powerful. Why couldn’t I be like him?

  Well, because life isn’t a story in my head. I can’t rewrite the parts of me that I don’t like. And Maverick wouldn’t want to marry himself, anyway. He loves this fucked-up mess stepping over the twitching pervert.

  “I never want to touch another man,” I say, throwing myself into Maverick’s arms. “I only want your hands on me.”

  I probably sound stupid, but Maverick understands. On some primal level, he gets how I’m wired, just like I know he can’t be anyone except the silent predator.

  “I don’t want to do this anymore,” I mumble as we walk to his truck parked at the back of the lot. “I need to find another way to deal with being me.”

  Once we’re heading back to Pema, he says in a steely voice. “Whatever you need, I’ll give you.”

  “Are you angry?”

  “I don’t want you touching anyone else,” he says and flashes me a frown. “I never want a gross fuck grabbing you.”

  “I thought it would fix me, but I’ll always be me.”

  “Good,” he says and sighs. “I didn’t fall in love with anyone else.”

  Inching closer, I shiver in the warming truck. “I have a new idea to help me, but you might not like it.”

  Maverick says nothing, but I feel his razor-sharp brain working out what I might be thinking. I don’t share my plan until we’re back at the quiet hotel. We take turns showering, each of us watching the other soap up.

  “Our shower at the firehouse will be big enough for two, right?” I ask, and he allows a sly grin to warm his otherwise stern face.

  As Maverick dries off, I walk naked into the bedroom and push the chair toward the bathroom. He peeks his head out and frowns.

  “What’s happening?” he asks, wary now.

  “I want to watch us fuck,” I whisper, holding his gaze. “I want to make new memories for my messed-up brain to latch on to.”

  “Is this because of those cunts?” he asks, spitting out the final word with the kind of malice he normally hides.

  “No, it’s because of me. I’m bananas, you know?” I say, patting the chair for him to sit down. “I have a lifetime of bad memories. I thought I could be someone else, and I’d stop remembering. That won’t work. So, my new plan is to fill my head with so many good memories that the bad ones will get shoved into the shadows. They’ll still be around, but they’ll have more competition from the happy stuff. Does that make sense?”

  Adjusting to what I’m saying, he asks, “And you want me to fuck you in front of a mirror so you can see?”

  “Yes.”

  Maverick doesn’t need to ask more questions to understand where my head is now. For years, O’Meara recorded his rapes and then used the images to instruct me on being a more dutiful wife in the bedroom. I don’t want those thoughts to be the only ones in my head. Images of Maverick’s beautiful naked body can defeat my old memories just like his fists destroyed the asshole tonight.

  “The only full-length mirror in the room is on the back of the door,” I say as he sits his still-damp ass on the chair and watches me with unreadable eyes. “It’s not ideal, position-wise, but I know you know how to make me feel good this way.”

  Maverick’s cool façade cracks when I place my hands on the chair’s arms and lean forward to kiss him. His fingers slide across my nipples. Such a small caress tightens them into hard nubs. As I sway my ass to “Desperado” playing on my phone, I hold his gaze.

  “When my mind tricks me into diving headfirst into the darkness, I want thoughts of you to drag me back into the light,” I whisper while holding his gaze. “You’re my secret weapon. I’ll wield my love for you against a past hoping to destroy me.”

  Maverick exhales deeply, and I realize he’s been tense since I asked to go hunting. He hadn’t wanted to bring our old ways to Pema. Or he hoped I had grown out of the need to beat on perverts. Could an address change be enough to rid me of bad habits?

  Taking charge when he knows I can’t, Maverick deepens our kiss. His hands cup my face, keeping me focused on him. When his lips leave mine, he slowly turns me away from him. His knees press together and slide between my legs. Then, Maverick
gently tugs me back onto his lap. I sigh at the feel of his body warming mine.

  Tilting my head back, I meet his lips again. We’re reassuring each other. Sex between us is still fresh, uncertain at times. Maverick can’t let loose with his broken woman. Or maybe he isn’t capable of letting go completely. His nature is all about control.

  Even when I slide into darkness, Maverick only hints at his worries despite fearing I might never return to him. My heart is jagged and dangerous like a broken toy. His heart is cold and rocky like a mountain top. We can’t change. Other lovers would want us to bend to their wills. But tonight, I finally accept how we’re in love with the fucked-up versions of each other. Fixing who we are could end what we’ve created.

  I force my gaze from his handsome face right next to me to our reflection. I see how his hands claim my pussy, tugged wide by our positions. Shivering, I watch one of his fingers disappear into my pink flesh. Soon, a second joins the first, and my hips move instinctively. Maverick’s left arm crosses over my breasts, keeping me safely against him. His need to control soothes my fear of losing my way. I’m a part of this powerful man, and he’ll keep me safe against a cruel world and my often-crueler mind.

  Licking my lips, I watch his long, thick cock search for my pussy. His fingers still fill me, and the palm of his right hand dominates my clit. I watch myself writhe with pleasure. I’m Violet Navarro, the teacher’s pet with unsupportive parents and an honest-to-goodness monster in my past.

  I’m also the woman owning her moans created by this sexy, dangerous man. He’s a predator. I dreamed of being one, too. But it’s not my nature. That doesn’t make me his prey. I’m not a victim. I have power. I admire his expression when his cock finally fills my pussy. Maverick lets down his guard, revealing how good my body makes him feel. His control slips just enough to expose my power.