by Bijou Hunter
“I should send Sam a thank-you basket for helping you be less evil,” Sylvie says in an almost tender voice. “What does he like?”
“His parents would very much enjoy a ‘fruit of the month’ basket.”
“That sounds pricey. Can I put it on your credit card?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks. I’m planning to get a job one day when I can no longer mooch off others.”
“I understand. Work can’t be easy to find with your lack of social skills and terrible grooming.”
“MJ Johansson suggested I work for the animal shelter, picking up dead animals now that she’s domesticated.”
“Who?”
“Rando Johansson.”
“Who?”
“Miranda Johansson, the second of Cooper’s daughters.”
“Yeah, I know her. She’s MJ now?” I ask, vaguely remembering something about her name changing when she hooked up with a biker.
“Yeah, for a while. Way to pay attention.”
“I’ve always called her Miranda, and she comes to the name.”
“She’s like a dog, I guess,” Sylvie says, shrugging. “She’ll come to anything remotely close to her name.”
“I don’t think she’s that agreeable, but okay. Still, her idea isn’t bad. You don’t mind cleaning up dead animals, and you won’t need to brush your hair for that job.”
“True, but what about Houston?”
“The animal control thing will keep you busy until Cavalry makes his decision. If he goes, you can decide then.”
“I’m going to hug you now,” she announces, sounding like a little girl again.
“I wish you wouldn’t.”
“It’ll be heartwarming. Mom says I’m a great hugger.”
“But you said she lies.”
Sylvie wraps her arms around me and bear-hugs my body while I struggle against the urge to shove her off and throw a punch. When I finally go limp and submit to her affections, my little sister gives me a sweet smile.
“I love you,” she says, nuzzling my shoulder.
“I love you, too.”
“Because you have no choice?”
“Yeah, probably, but it still counts.”
“Yes, it does,” she says, releasing me. “Do you like The Collins Kids?”
“God, no.”
Sylvie stands up and flips me off. “Get better taste, you rotten-fish-smelling bunghole-dripping cunt.”
“This was fun.”
Grinning, she nods. “I’m going to visit you a lot now.”
“As punishment for me being nicer?”
“Sounds about right. Never go soft, bitch.”
Sylvie bounces on her heels and gives me one last big smile before running off to rat out my new sensitive nature to our brothers.
Watching her go, I realize I’m not nearly the well-adjusted know-it-all I figured. While I refuse to believe Sylvie is better than me—the bitch bites!—I do accept I could have enjoyed a better relationship with her. Probably with my other siblings, too.
But I did what was most comfortable. All my life, I’ve put myself first. Now, I’ll need to push myself a helluva lot harder if I want to keep the man I love.
THE CHAPTER WHERE IDYLLWILD KNEELS
THE CHARMER
I wake up to a text from my president, stating his inner circle will meet with the mayor of Pema and its sister city Idyllwild this afternoon. I don’t know why he’s informing me. Brick texts later to explain how I’m part of the local Reapers’ inner circle. Besides, the dustup is about Nev, Raimi, and Stew Krason.
My gorgeous gal leaves before breakfast to let out her dogs. After getting the kids on the bus, I take my parents’ SUV to the store to find a safe. Nev meets me there, wearing a smile I could certainly get used to seeing every day.
“Did you tell your brother about yesterday?” I ask as we walk together through the store.
“Of course. I spy on everything for him. I also rat out the Pema chapter to my dad, who shares potential issues with Cooper.”
“Does Maverick know what you’re up to?”
“Have I told him? No. Does he understand how my family works? Sure. He used to rat out us kids to our parents all the time. He’s very sneaky.”
Enjoying her relaxed demeanor this morning, I’m able to think over last night more clearly. While she got rattled easily, I sensed Raimi and Nev misread each other plenty at the ice cream shop.
“I’m glad I know about the doll,” I tell Nev after we pick out a safe. “There was a ticking time bomb in her backpack, waiting for some bratty child to set off.”
Hearing my thanks, Nev gets starry-eyed in the way her ice princess persona would hate. I kiss her immediately, wanting to savor her good mood.
“Should we get the kids something?” she asks after our lips part, and she stares at me. “Is Caesar too old for toys?”
“I haven’t a clue. If you have time, we can walk around and see what’s what.”
Nev doesn’t need to be at the restaurant until opening. After my Reapers’ meeting, we can hang out at her house. I’m hoping to talk her into spending the evening at my place again.
With Nev’s help, I buy a doll for Raimi and a video game for Caesar.
“Even if he already has it or doesn’t like it, you can use that fact as an entryway to talk about what games he prefers,” Nev says when I’m unsure what my boy plays. “My dad often pretended to be confused about things in my life as a way to get me to open up. Rather than just ask, ‘What do you like?’ You know, since kids are contractually obligated to say, ‘I don’t know’ to most questions.”
“I look forward to meeting your parents,” I say, and her eyes warm before going still as if she imagines a negative outcome to my idea.
Ignoring her going squirrely on me, I walk to the front self-checkout. I pack up the bags in my parents’ SUV and linger with Nev.
“Any pointers on this meeting?” I ask, letting the feel of her body against mine sink in deep.
“Colton will do all the talking. Maverick will look like a robot on charging mode. If Gunnar, Kiefer, and Jox come, they’ll seem angry about something. You should just be you.”
Nev kisses me before adding, “One time, I peeked in on a meeting with Cooper, Dad, and a few guys. Judd O’Keefe wears the same icy stare as Gunnar, but my father fucking winked at the guy they were threatening. So, don’t be anyone except you. If Colton and Mav feel you’re fake, they won’t trust you. Besides, I’ve seen their dynamic, and they desperately need some chill to offset the amount of dick wagging that goes on.”
“I gotta say it’s nice to have a woman who gets the job. Teigh came at things from a party girl’s perspective. She figured we were tough, so we should just punch any problem. Sure, that’s a solid solution at times. But she couldn’t understand the necessary finesse.”
“I always assumed I’d end up with the son of one of my dad’s friends, but none of them clicked,” she says, fondling me against the SUV. “When I got here, I did a quick check of my local Reapers options. Again, I wasn’t impressed. I figured I was done with men,” Nev adds and then smiles sheepishly at me. “But we all know that didn’t stick once I met you.”
“That day was a ‘holy hell, who is this gal’ moment, for sure.”
Nev smiles wider. “I love you, Sam. I’m not a particularly patient person, but I hear you in my head now. So, I’ll have you remind me to stop micromanaging situations. Like I’ll chill in the way I told you to do at the meeting.”
“We’ve got this,” I promise, and her smile screams she believes me.
Eventually, we’re forced to separate. Nev wants to clean up before work while I need to get the safe set up for Raimi.
We’re soon breathing the same air again once I arrive at the still closed Whiskey Kirk’s for the meeting with the mayor. Maverick speaks with his sister near the bathrooms while Gunnar dazzles Colton with stories of dirty diapers and late nights.
“Babies are difficu
lt, huh?” asks my president. “I plan to rock fatherhood, though. My niece, Thisbe, fucking loves me, and I supervised one of her diaper changes.”
Gunnar and Jox share an eye roll. I look forward to the two fathers razzing Colton in a few months.
My president notices me and walks over. “That shit with your girl can’t stand.”
“What does that mean?”
“Bufford and his family promised they’d keep their people in line. Instead, they’ve got their top shit-fuck scaring a child. No go. I’m looking for a particular head to roll.”
Brick joins us, signaling me with his eyes. If he thinks I know what he’s saying with that expression, he’s bound to be disappointed.
“What do you need from me?” I ask while Maverick joins us, and Nev disappears into the back office.
“This meeting is likely a formality,” says my VP. “Our intel gives us the impression the Cosgrove family have lost control of their preacher. He’s preparing the flock for trouble with the Reapers.”
Crossing his massive arms, Colton nods. “Basically, Krason is selling the idea of their future suffering as necessary to destroy the evil plaguing Idyllwild.”
“Seems like killing him is the fix,” I reply as the other men group up to better hear their president and VP.
“Krason has several allies in the flock,” Maverick says, clearly implying one dead asshole won’t be enough.
“But the Cosgrove family itself has submitted,” Colton explains. “They’ve suffered enough and still make plenty of money. No reason to fuck with us. Bufford is a good guy. Real submissive like a dumb dog looking for treats. He’ll play ball like usual, but he can’t control Krason. Today is our way of telling the Cosgrove family and their rich allies to behave while we spill the preacher’s blood. That’s their only route to everything staying nice and friendly between our groups.”
“So, I just need to look like the aggrieved daddy?” I ask, still unsure of my place in this inner circle.
“We also want Bufford to know you’re protected,” Colton explains. “Sure, all the Reapers aren’t to be fucked with, but your family lives deep in a territory we barely control. The Cosgrove fuckers need to understand if they breathe wrong on your kids or parents, we’ll view it as a signal for war.”
“I can’t complain about my people being protected.”
Colton and Maverick exchange a look with a meaning I can’t decipher. But I’m not looking to figure out everyone under the sun today. I’m still learning about my kids and girlfriend.
Nev announces over the sound system how the Idyllwild group has arrived. My mind flashes to us in her office, and that’s all I need to settle my britches before the shit-heels enter.
I remember Bufford from back in the day. He was always a likable moron with a boner for Gordon Gekko. Back in high school, the dipshit started slicking his hair back like a 1980s Wall Street corporate raider. I never expected him to amount to much. He wasn’t smart enough for even community college. Somehow, he’s the mayor now. I greatly underestimated how much his family’s connections could overcome a lack of any discernable talents.
I take up a spot next to Brick. We’re flanked by Gunnar and Jox. Maverick stands apart from us, near the exit. The tables are moved out of the dining room center with only two spots left for sitting. One chair for Colton and the other for Bufford.
“This was a surprise,” says the mayor as he sits down across from Colton, who frowns hard at him.
Bufford brought a few big guys, trying hard to mimic Colton’s stance. I also spot several Idyllwild moneybags-types. One owns the car dealership where Fred bought his SUV. The other has a few restaurants and smaller businesses. I’m unsure about the third, but I did hear something about a developer looking to build a subdivision on what used to be the Bakers’ farm. Brick mentioned the Reapers were involved in the project, looking to bring more people up from Ellsberg.
Rounding out their group is Bufford’s mother, Marge Cosgrove. I remember when she married John years ago. Word was her people in Indiana ran a militia. Fred met her once and asked Pricilla to give the woman a wide berth. That told me all I needed to know.
“Are you really surprised we’re upset about yesterday?” Colton asks, fucking with Bufford, who clearly has no clue what happened. “You probably sent the little shit after my VP’s sister and that child.”
“Wait, what, now?” Bufford stammers, glancing back at his mother.
“Why don’t you explain the problem?” asks Carl from Carl Motors.
“Your preacher sexually harassed my VP’s sister. She was minding her own business, just taking a child out for ice cream. His child, actually,” Colton says and gestures at me. “We were promised Idyllwild wouldn’t mess with our people as long as we didn’t mess with your leadership. Now, we have your hotshot holy man hurling sexually charged insults at a young woman and a little girl.”
Bufford’s body language hides nothing. The clueless fucker thinks he’ll be next to die. Makes sense. The first target was his horny brother.
But the Reapers don’t spray bullets over obvious targets. Brick said they calculate each kill, choosing the highest value marks with the least exposure risks.
The Reapers also like to hit these people when they’re out of town, so the investigations land in the laps of different police departments. All slick strategies my old club never would have thought of doing.
“We were unaware,” Carl says when Bufford just stares dumbfounded.
“How is that possible?” Colton demands. “Aren’t you running Idyllwild? Was there a coup when we weren’t looking?”
“No need to be a smartass,” Carl mutters, running a hand through his thinning hair. “We have no idea if what you say is even true.”
Leaning back, Colton smirks. “I see how it is. When Nev told me what happened, I didn’t think it made sense. Why would your group want our group to pay attention to your group? We’re working on the new builds together. Our future church will keep the riffraff out of your fancy church. Seemed like we were on the same page, so Krason’s behavior felt off. But now I get it.”
“Get what?” Bufford mumbles.
“You all think I’m a sloppy bitch you can push around,” Colton says and shrugs. “No, no, I get it. I’m young, and my pop got me this job. I also have a baby on the way. I smell soft to you. That’s what yesterday was about. You’re making clear you want the Reapers out of Idyllwild, figuring I can’t stop you.”
“Now, wait,” Bufford stammers and looks at his mom again.
Mother Cosgrove doesn’t show her fear, but I smell it on her more than the others. The businessmen are split. The real estate guy wants peace. The other two are iffy. I sense the muscle are probably the most nervous, considering how many of them “unexpectedly” died last year.
“I’ll be honest,” Colton says and glances at Maverick. “I wasn’t ready for this move on their part. Took me off guard. I’ll need time to think things over. Maybe call my pop and see what he thinks ought to happen. Maybe we’ll meet back in a few weeks after me and the boys brainstorm. See if we can find a way to make things okay again.”
Colton says his words with complete sincerity, sounding like a dumb kid in over his head. But he finishes with the smirk of a man with a kill list locked and loaded.
“We’ll talk to Krason,” Mother Cosgrove blurts out, inviting glares from the businessmen. “He’s turned into a showoff. But like when Bufford bothered Majors about his firehouse, the preacher will learn his place.”
“No,” Colton says in a cold tone, and the woman flinches. “You claimed you’d kick anyone out of your church who didn’t behave. Punish them like you did us by keeping us from God. Remember that? Those words were spoken right here. Now, you just want to have a chat with him after he harassed a woman and child. I’m not impressed.”
“You aren’t the only one calling the shots,” Carl says while Bufford looks ready to piss himself.
“You’re probably right. N
o way to know how things will turn out.”
“I think we could replace Krason,” Bufford says, squirming in his seat. “He’s not TV ready with that face and his weird voice. I never liked him.”
“Shut your trap,” Carl growls at the mayor.
There comes a time in every man’s life when he needs to pick a side. After Garbage died, I could have made a stink or looked for revenge when I walked out of prison. But I saw the writing on the wall, just like I would have when the Reapers showed up if I was around that day with Garbage.
Right now, Bufford is making his choice. He figures the Reapers are more likely to kill him than his people. Or maybe Krason’s made moves to take control, and the Cosgrove family is on its way out.
Seeing Bufford jump ship to save his ass, I’ve never been prouder of the little shit. And I once saw him try to get a cat out of a tree. That time, he nearly broke an ankle to save a furball who didn’t need help. This time around, he’s making clear if the Reapers kill Krason or Carl or even his own mother, he’ll keep playing ball with the club.
“Stew is hurting our bottom line,” he tells Colton. “He’s a fugly little shit.”
“Language,” Mother Cosgrove mutters as if she doesn’t sense how this conversation is a life-and-death situation for her family.
Bufford rolls his eyes, going way off script now. “Only the crazies love him because he’s so extreme. But attendance is down with Stew around.”
“I agree the guy’s a poppable pimple, but I’m not the one running Idyllwild or your church,” Colton says, losing all his friendliness in the way he did with Mutt and Chip when they crossed a line.
“If he’s gone, we’ll be square again, right?” Bufford asks, putting everything out on the table. “I can make that happen.”
“How do you know he won’t decide the same about you?” Maverick asks immediately. “Those men behind you want the crazy fucker in charge. They’re looking to go to war. Craving blood over cash. You’re not speaking for them, Bufford.”