See You Smile (Reapers MC: Pema Chapter Book 3)

by Bijou Hunter

  “I guess.”

  Stroking his head, I explain, “It feels less scary to make sense of the world by saying you could have saved her, or I would have done it if I were around. I can’t imagine how you felt that night with Raimi crying and your mama gone. You were too young to have so much pressure on you. But I swear nothing you did or didn’t do made her die.”

  Caesar fights tears as his mind returns to that night. “She felt empty.”

  “Her soul had already gone to Heaven.”

  “But she did drugs.”

  “Son, we live in a town full of bad people who think they’re going to Heaven because they give money to a church. They don’t care about themselves or each other, yet they’re real quick to point out your mistakes. Their words are just noise, okay? You can’t listen. You ever watch those Charlie Brown movies?”

  Caesar looks at me as if I’m nuts. “Yeah.”

  “Remember how the kids heard the adults as speaking gibberish? Welp, that’s what I hear when those sanctimonious assholes try to tell me what’s what. Half of them are addicts themselves. Many are abusing their families. The other half are looking the other way to protect the first group. Those aren’t people with the right to say whether Teigh went to Heaven. We knew her. Your mama loved her babies with all her heart. We knew she was a good woman, and those troublemakers don’t know shit.”

  “Mom sometimes called me ‘CB’ like the radio. I don’t know why she did that.”

  “Your mama loved being silly with her babies,” I say, stroking his head. “Life wasn’t always easy for her. She didn’t get a good family growing up. That’s why you and Raimi were a miracle for her. All the sweetness she couldn’t share with others shined on you and your sister.”

  Caesar smiles softly, seeming lighter now. “I forget stuff about her.”

  “You need to talk about her more,” I explain, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “We’ll do that, okay? Watch videos of your mama and talk about her, so she’ll stay bright in your mind.”

  His blue eyes find me, and he struggles against competing emotions. “Are you going to leave again?”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  “What if Brick will go to prison?”

  “Now, I don’t know what that means for him. But I’m sticking with you and Raimi if I have any choice in the matter.”

  “But you still might leave,” he says, full of worry.

  “I can’t promise I’ll never get locked up or hurt. I don’t have the power to make my words true. But I can say I won’t be taking the fall for someone else.”

  Caesar nods and pulls away. “I don’t want to move back to our old house. Raimi does, but it’s where Mom died.”

  “Raimi wants to feel what she did as a little girl. Back before I went away, and your mama died, life was simpler. She misses that, not the house. You and I know we’ve got to move forward,” I say and rest my hand on his back. “And things are different now with me being back. I want us to talk more about your mama. And I don’t want you running stuff.”

  “I take care of the house,” he mutters.

  “Because you want to or because you think you need to?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I bet you’d rather be a kid and worry about your stuff while I take care of the grownup things.”

  “What if you mess up?” he asks, getting tense now.

  “Then, you can help me, but I’m still the one who ought to be in charge.”

  Caesar studies me before admitting, “Nana forgets to check the food.”

  “She’s getting older.”

  “They don’t remember the bills unless I remind them.”

  “I can do that now, so you don’t have to.”

  Shrugging, Caesar fears giving up the power that comes with worrying all the time. “I don’t mind.”

  “I believe you, but I already got to be a kid. How about I do the boring grownup stuff and let you enjoy your childhood?”

  Nodding, Caesar looks smaller now. Having lost that wannabe tough-guy stance, he seems lost.

  “You’ve been blaming yourself for a while now,” I say, rubbing the back of his neck like Teigh would when he got upset. “Been blaming me, too. It’ll take a little time to think different, but there’s no hurry. All that pressure’s been eating on you like your pawpaw going at a corn cob.”

  Caesar smiles a little and glances at me. “He drools when he sees them.”

  “I don’t doubt it. When I was little, my grandma told me how your pawpaw would eat a whole plate of corn on the cob by himself.”

  For the next few minutes, we swap stories about Fred’s love of food, dancing, and miniature golf. Then, I suggest we plan a fun outing one evening. Caesar suddenly loses his smile.

  “Nev is your girlfriend.”

  “Yeah, seems that way,” I say before asking, “Why are you bringing that up now?”

  “She doesn’t like miniature golf.”

  “I didn’t know that,” I say and then add, “But I was thinking just the five of us anyway.”

  Caesar nods, but his gaze remains wary. I tap his forehead and ask, “Where you at in here?”

  “Do you miss Mom?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But you want to have sex.”

  “Sure, but I also like Nev.”

  “She doesn’t like kids. She calls them crotch goblins.”

  “Does she treat you bad?”

  “No,” he says, shivering under a rough breeze. Once I wrap an arm around him, he continues, “But what if she wants you to live with her? Are you going to leave?”

  “Nev knows I’m a package deal. She wouldn’t ask me to live with her if she wasn’t looking to have you and Raimi move in, too. But that’s not something we need to worry about. Nev and I just started dating.”

  “She’s really pretty.”

  “That she is. I like pretty women,” I say, and he smiles. “But I’m a pa before I’m a boyfriend, okay?” With him relaxed, I ask, “Do you have a crush on Nev?”

  “No,” he mumbles.

  “It’s okay if you do. She’s pretty like you said, and you’re at an age where girls being pretty means more.”

  Seeming sheepish, he mumbles, “I didn’t know you were going to like her.”

  “No, neither did I. But it’s okay if you have a crush. I had one on my teacher when I was your age. Felt weird when she got pregnant. Like I was doing something wrong by thinking she was pretty when I knew she was married and had a baby inside. But that’s how it is when you’re young. Kinda hard to control yourself. Not that it’s all that much easier when you’re grown up.”

  Nodding, Caesar turns on the bench and looks at me in the warm, open way he hasn’t in years. On those video calls, he always seemed overly positive. I get the feeling the kids feel they need to put on a show for their upbeat grandparents.

  Then, when I got home, Caesar was edgy all the time. Every day, he hated me more. I understand now why, and I hope we can rebuild the solid relationship we once shared. But I also know problems aren’t fixed by saying a few words.

  Today, though, offered me an opening to my boy’s heart.

  THE CRACKERJACK

  The woman at the front desk stares at my ID for like a minute before calling Raimi to get picked up. Sam said they might give me trouble, so I got here early to ensure they couldn’t pull the “we’re so busy with everyone leaving” shit. Though the women in the office try to make small talk with me, I give zero fucks about playing their games.

  Raimi appears, looking smaller than I remember. I realize I’ve never seen her without Caesar nearby.

  “I’m taking you home,” I say and gesture toward the door.

  The child follows me out to my SUV, where I struggle against the urge to drop her off immediately at the Donners’ place.

  “Do you like ice cream?” I ask as she sits in the passenger seat of my SUV.

  “Yes.”

  “We could stop at a shop nearby and get sunda
es.”

  Raimi looks around. “Where’s Caesar?”

  “Your dad picked him up early, so they could hang out. He’ll do that with you soon, too.”

  “Why?” she asks, playing with her purple-and-white striped shirt.

  “Your dad wants to be close with you outside of the house.”

  “Oh.”

  “So, do you want to get ice cream with me before I take you home?”

  Raimi’s sweet smile eases my fears. I’m not a robotic monster capable of making people cry. I’m nice, dammit! Fuck anyone who says different.

  We stop by Cold Yums in Idyllwild’s tame downtown district. There are a few couples and several older people inside. I choose for myself a vanilla sundae with peach slices. Raimi wants chocolate with M&M toppings. As we order, she wears her backpack despite me suggesting she leave it in the SUV.

  While waiting for our treats, I sense the mood in the shop shift. Raimi plays on my phone next to me. Sam said she got excited over his, so I figured this was an easy way to entertain the kid.

  Through the door strolls Idyllwild Church of Hope’s current preacher. This short, slimy-looking dork replaced Amon Cosgrove. My oldest brother blew out the former preacher’s brains before the Reapers framed a local loser for the killing. At the church that day, I can attest to the beautiful shot River made.

  For nearly a year, the Reapers have stayed out of the church as part of our deal with their leadership. Their slice of the agreement was to let our people move into Idyllwild. The Reapers and the church assholes agreed to stay out of each other’s way, business-wise.

  But today is personal. Or so, I guess, based on the enraged expression on Stew Krason’s chubby, pimply face. Flanking him are two meatheads with size but likely little skill. I instantly devise a plan to take them all down if shit goes sideways.

  “Why would anyone leave this sweet child in your care?” Krason asks loudly as if punishing the ice cream shop patrons with a sermon.

  Rolling my eyes, I mutter, “I’m not one of your sheep, baaing at whatever stupid shit you say. Meaning you have zero reasons to know my business. Now, piss off.”

  “Spoken like a true harlot.”

  “What’s a harlot?” Raimi asks me.

  “He’s saying I’m a whore.”

  Eyes widening, Raimi scoots behind me while I smirk at Stew Krason.

  “You’re proud of your wanton ways,” he says, glancing back at the two large men shadowing him.

  “Listen, Stewie, I can’t respect a man who’s gone down on fewer women than I have. Facing off against you holds the same weight as intimidating a fourteen-year-old boy with his first big-boy woody.”

  “No good man wants your defiled body. That’s why you settled for her convict father.”

  “This is your big play?” I ask, snorting. “I grew up around real men who don’t pay meatheads to protect them. That’s why your pathetic insults come off as small-dick energy.”

  As Stew opens his mouth to insult me again, I startle him by stepping closer. The meatheads tense immediately.

  “You’re short for a man,” I say, sizing him up. “Puberty never finished for you, explaining your terrible skin and feminine voice. You lack upper body strength, and you stand like a man afraid of his own shadow. That’s you, Stewie. You’re no leader. Sure, Amon Cosgrove was a philandering charlatan, but he was also a real man in a way you’ll never be. Why else would you try to scare a small child?”

  “You’ll burn for your foul words.”

  “In hell? Maybe. But in this life, I’ll bury you if you ever mess with my people. This child here is none of your concern. If I find out you’re sniffing around her, I’ll assume you’re a pedophile grooming your next victim. In my world, perverts don’t enjoy happy endings.”

  “I won’t listen to such trash from this whore,” he spits out, but I only smile and wink at his bodyguards.

  “I hope he’s paying you enough to act as human shields.”

  Before Stew can speak, I turn my back on him. His people won’t lay a finger on me in front of witnesses. The Idyllwild Church of Hope is sneaky about its evil ways. On the surface, with all these eyes watching, the preacher and his sheep play the good guys.

  Though truth be told, most of the people in the ice cream shop wouldn’t mind if these men gang-raped me publicly. Once people step into a cult, they toss aside their own will. Nothing is out of bounds if it hurts the enemy and pleases their leader.

  That’s the difference between their church and the Reapers. If Cooper started selling girls or killing kids, most of his men wouldn’t obey. Some are weak, sure, but the majority would fight back if he crossed a line. Their moral codes don’t get shelved once they follow a leader.

  Even when I’m surrounded by the enemy like right now, I never show fear. As a kid, Vaughn trained us with large dogs who’d bark a few inches from our faces. We’d practice hiding our fear—never flinch or hesitate. Maverick always excelled at this task, seeming oblivious to the snarling beasts. I wasn’t too shabby, either. Now, I use the same technique with these assholes.

  Raimi and I walk outside with our sundaes, finding a table in the shade. I don’t want to discuss what happened, but my silence leaves her wide-eyed.

  “People at that church are losers,” I tell her and take a bite of my sundae. “They’re jealous and cruel. They intimidate a lot of people. That’s what they tried to do to me, but I’m not scared of losers.”

  “I am,” she says, biting her lower lip.

  “You’re a little girl. Of course, you’re scared.”

  Raimi glances into the shop, where people likely watch us. I want to tell her to stop. Except she’s already nervous, and I fear making her cry like I did Sylvie.

  “Before Mama died,” Raimi says, and my body goes cold with panic, “she had a neighbor who came over to give us food after Daddy left.”

  “Is she from that Idyllwild church?”

  “I don’t know,” Raimi mumbles. “The lady told me to pray really hard to have good stuff. She also told Mama to pray to be forgiven.”

  “People from that church are losers. Your mom didn’t need to do anything.”

  Raimi looks into the shop and then back at me. Her blue eyes are huge as if she’s terrified. She doesn’t speak for a few minutes, mostly eating her ice cream.

  “I have a doll in my bag,” she mumbles after we sit in silence. “It’s against the rules to take it to school. I hide her in my bag and look at her when I’m sad.”

  “That’s smart. Some rules are dumb, and you need to take care of yourself.”

  Relieved by my support, Raimi nods. “My mama gave me the doll for my birthday. It was my last present from her. It’s special.”

  “Then, it’s good you have it,” I say awkwardly.

  “My mama loved me.”

  My chest aches with icy panic. What does Raimi want me to say here? I’ve been around her and Caesar before, and they don’t really talk about their parents. I wasn’t prepared for her seeming so little and fragile.

  “I know she did,” I babble as I focus on my sundae. “I saw pictures and could tell how much she did.”

  Raimi finishes her ice cream and looks back at the shop. Stew Krason and his bodyguards walk outside. A real tough guy wouldn’t look at us. He’d seem above acknowledging our existence. Not Krason, though. He’s like a mean girl, thinking his bugged-out eyes will intimidate people. Raimi sees him glaring and shrinks a little.

  “He’s a useless worm,” I tell her. “I could easily beat up him and his bodyguards. Don’t let the bully freak you out.”

  “He’s the preacher.”

  “That’s just a job like how the woman inside is in charge of ice cream.”

  “He talks to God.”

  “Billions of people in the world talk to God, Raimi. He isn’t special.”

  When the child watches me, my panic hits another level. Her expression is like watching an accident ready to happen. I can’t stop her from speaking
the words bubbling up inside her. I’m trapped in this hell of impending drama.

  “I talked to God,” she says in a wobbly voice. “I prayed real hard like the lady said, but my mama didn’t wake up.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say as tears fill the blue eyes she inherited from her dad.

  “I asked the lady at the funeral party why it didn’t work. She said I didn’t pray enough before, so God didn’t help me.”

  I want so badly to end this conversation and get her back to her grandparents’ house. Sam can talk to her. Hug her, too. Just be a warm person who soaks up her pain and helps her move past it.

  But I can’t casually shut her up long enough to take her home. My silence is making her more agitated.

  “People like that lady are evil,” I say rather than something sensitive. “She probably thinks she’s good and holy or whatever, but she’s got evil in her heart. Trust me. I’ve known a lot of bad people. They’re usually the ones who think they’re the most perfect.”

  Raimi just stares at me as a tear rolls down her cheek. I toss our sundae containers in the trash before returning to find her looking in her bag.

  I’m again struck by the urge to run. My greatest fear is raw, uncontrolled emotion. I can’t deal with grief. My life was too easy growing up, maybe. Unable to process such pain, I avoid it.

  But Raimi can’t be tossed in my car and dropped off like a bag of garbage. I push past my panic, feeling as if I’m moving through quicksand, and rest a hand on her shoulder. Her gaze finds me, and I struggle to speak.

  “Your mom was a beautiful person, and she loved you very much. Life isn’t fair, sometimes. She died, even though she wanted to stay with you. Nothing you did made that happen. You were her angel. She wouldn’t leave you if she had a choice.”

  Raimi does exactly what I fear and wraps herself against me as she cries. My first inclination is to make her stop. The enemy is watching. Showing them weakness is a mistake.

  But she’s an eight-year-old girl still struggling with an unbearable loss. I mimic what my mother would do right now. Hugging Raimi, I stroke her back and tell her everything is okay. I try to see myself as Raven. She wouldn’t fear this moment. I can be my mother for long enough to get Raimi home, where her people don’t need to fake anything.