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Authors: Joanna Wylde

BOOK: Reaper's Property
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“We should put him in the ground,” Max
said, voice firm and cold. Horse glanced at him, surprised to see his face
flushed, the little muscle in his jaw flexing with suppressed emotion. Max was
still on probation, and it wasn’t usual for a guy in his position to talk so
much during church. Max’s blood tended to run hot though. He was one of the
hardest men Horse had ever met, which was saying a lot. “We’ve done everything
but lead this guy to the shitter and wipe his ass. He’s always making promises,
always got an excuse, but nothing ever changes. You should’ve seen him last
night. He’s definitely tweaking. Time to cut our losses.”

The words hung heavy in the air.

“How much does he know about club
business?” asked Duck, a Vietnam vet who couldn’t make the long runs anymore.
He spent most of his time in the clubhouse drinking beer and telling the girls
stories about back in the day when men were men and women knew their place.
Horse didn’t much like the man but he’d still trust him with his life.

He’d trust any of the brothers with his
life.

“Too much,” Horse replied, his voice heavy.
“Way too much. He’s a liability if we don’t take out some kind of insurance.”

“What kind insurance is good enough for a
guy like that?” asked Max, clearly spoiling for a fight, although damned if
Horse could understand why. “He’s a liar and a thief. The money we’ve been
feeding him for his work should be enough for anyone. Instead he’s livin’ in a
shithole, smoking weed and waiting for his sister to bring home her fuckin’
pathetic little paychecks. What kind of man lives like that? Even if he started
playing it straight, we’d never be able to believe him. Probably full of all
kinds of crazy lies.”

“That’s the truth,” Picnic murmured. He
looked up at Horse, his face grave.

“We in agreement here?”

Horse glanced around the room, seeing
Jensen’s death written in every face. He couldn’t argue with them—the man knew
way too much. He needed to be removed.

Fuck.

He thought about Marie, what she looked
like when she was pissed at him, spitting fire like a little dragon. Damn, he
wanted to get inside that woman. Once wouldn’t be close to enough. As usual his
dick stood up to salute the idea, but what really pushed him over the edge was
the thought of Marie crying over that lame-ass bastard.

He couldn’t let that happen.

“What about the sister?” he asked.

“What about her?” Picnic replied, voice
carefully neutral.

“She’s gonna be my old lady. Some nice
insurance there,” Horse said, aware of the pointed looks several of the
brothers gave each other. “And when it’s family, we take care of business
different and you know it.”

“Last I heard, she wasn’t on board with
that,” Picnic replied slowly. “Girl didn’t even ask about you last night,
Horse.”

“There’s precedent. Not all old ladies
start out with their priorities in line, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be
claimed if the president approves it and the members agree. It’s happened.”

“Sure, thirty years ago,” snapped Bam Bam.
“They did all kinds of shit back then. We’re livin’ in a modern world, bro, you
can’t just kidnap some chick and take her home.”

Duck snorted and slammed his hand down on
the table, startling everyone.

“You pussies talk about the modern world
like we give a shit about their rules. Remember who we are,” he boomed. “We’re men—one
percenters. Fucking kings of the MC world. We don’t follow the rules, we make
our own goddamn rules. My brother Horse wants a woman, wants her bad enough to
come to the club and throw down for her. He ever done that before?”

He looked around the room, glaring at each
man in turn.

Horse bit back a grin. Duck on a roll,
hadn’t seen that one coming.

“Our brother has come before this club and
let us know his intention to take an old lady,” Duck continued. “The situation
is complicated. We all know he’ll put the club first, so we hear him out and
back his play. He may not always be right, but he’s always our brother. You
little cocksuckers need to think about that, ’fore I show up here one day and
find you growing tits in place of your balls.”

Duck sat back with a grunt.

“How ’bout you tell us what you really
think, Duck,” said Ruger, laughing and relaxing back into his chair. “Jesus.”

“He’s right,” Horse said, voice deadly
serious. “I may not always be right, but I
am
always your brother—or at
least I thought I was. A Reaper takes what he wants. You got my back?”

Picnic sighed.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” he said.
“She isn’t part of our world, she’s got no idea what to expect and she doesn’t
even want to try. It’s not gonna end well.”

“That’s my problem, now isn’t it?”

“It’s your problem so long as you keep it
controlled and out of club business,” Picnic replied. “She’s a nice kid, I like
her. Good cook, fucking love that potato salad of hers. Puts bacon in it. It’d
be nice to have some of that shit with dinner next time we roast a pig. But
that still leaves us to deal with her brother. Makes things more complicated.”

Horse smiled. He’d won—this was just
details.

“So she’s our insurance,” he answered. “Let
the brother know that if he doesn’t pay us back, he’ll never see her again.
Give him a few months, see how things play out.”

“You think he’ll find a way to pay us
back?” asked Picnic.

“No idea,” Horse admitted. “The guy
practically prints money when he’s focused and sober. Enough motivation, he may
come through for us.”

“Hasn’t so far.”

“He loves his sister,” Bam Bam said
quietly. “He’s a weasel and a bastard, but he really does care about her. Seen
it with my own eyes. I don’t think he’ll hang her out to dry.”

“We make sure he knows—he doesn’t pay, she’s
in big trouble,” Horse said. “He pays up, great. He blows this deal, we put him
in the ground. Everybody wins.”

Except Marie. But Jensen was a big boy and
he’d chosen to do business with and then screw over the Reapers MC. If it
wasn’t for her, fucker’d be dead already.

“And the issue of respect?” asked Ruger.
“We have to cover our bases here. Can’t look weak.”

“That’s the truth,” Picnic said. “But
taking a man’s sister, holding her hostage? That’s payment in blood, we spread
it ’round the right places. It should do.”

“You’re forgetting one thing,” said Max.
Horse looked at him, trying to read his mind. Something was up with Max. They
all cared about club business, but this was a step beyond. Almost personal.

“The money,” Max continued. “It’s one thing
to let Horse have his little fuck toy, I don’t give a shit about that. It’s
another to just sit back and lose fifty large. You guys may have money stashed
somewhere, but I don’t. We sure we want to risk that kind of cash on this
asshat pulling through for us, on top of the risk of him running to LEO?”

Horse narrowed his eyes at Max, who met
them straight on. The man didn’t flinch.

“It’s a good point,” Bam Bam said, his
voice mild. “Of course, we take him out now, we never see that money again
anyway, Max.”

“Well maybe we wouldn’t have our asses
hanging out so far if Horse’d done a better job watching him.”

Picnic sat up.

“Careful, brother,” he said, his voice
cold. “Horse did his job. It was my call to let this play out, and I had good
reason. That little shit made half a million bucks for this club, easy, in the
last two years. You don’t just throw something like that away if you don’t have
to. Fucker’s got a gift, can’t just replace him. That’s why I like this idea,
maybe we can still save the situation.”

“I’m not voting for it,” Max said. “We need
to put him down.”

“Why don’t I buy her?” Horse said. Everyone
turned to look at him, startled. “I’ll buy Marie from the club, and we give
Jensen another shot. Fifty grand, outta my pocket and into the club account. We
wait and see if Jensen comes up with the money and interest. He does, I get
paid back, the club makes a profit. He doesn’t, it’s on me.”

“That’s fucked up,” muttered Bam Bam. “No
cunt worth that.”

“She’s not a cunt.”

“They’re all cunts,” Max snapped. Horse
caught his eye, staring him down.

“Play nice, boys,” said Picnic. “I think
you’re crazy, Horse, but this works for me. That good enough for you, Max?”

Max dipped his head in agreement.

“I’m with Picnic, you’re crazy,” said Bam
Bam. “Should be a hell of a show. She hates you, Horse. Jensen told me.”

“Well, I’m pretty pissed at her myself,”
Horse said. “We gotta work through that. But she’s mine and that’s the way it
is.”

Picnic rolled his eyes and Ruger snorted.

“Nice to see youngsters acting like men instead
of chorus girls,” Duck grunted, looking around the table in approval. “Let’s
vote. I want beer.”

 

Horse left the meeting feeling pretty good.
Paying out the money was gonna hurt, no question. But he’d been thinking about
putting up a new shop on the property, so he had the cash. He damned sure
wanted Marie more than a shop. He couldn’t wait to come home to her after a
tough day, the smell of her cooking in the house, the sight of her in an apron
and nothing else.

Nice.

Horse grabbed his phone out of the box,
thinking he should have called her before now. He’d gotten her sweet little
text messages and knew she was hurting. Hell, he’d wanted her to hurt, he could
admit it. She’d hurt him, so he let her dangle for a few days…

But now that them being together was a
reality? Time to let it go. He stepped out of the clubhouse and into the
sunlight, powering up the phone. It pinged repeatedly, letting him know he’d
missed a bunch of text messages from the night before.

 

Marie:
Horse, muss yu

Marie:
Why dont anser?

Marie:
Horse like yur name. Horsey. I’d
like to rid u horsey, LOL. You sleeping? Or busy with someone?

Marie:
I know yur there. I bet you got a
new gurl alredy. Screw you.

Marie:
Screw you and your slut. I hate
you. Take yur club and shove it up yur ass I wudn’t be yoor old lady for ten
milion dollrs.

 

Fuck.

She’d been drunk, no question. And when
people were drunk they said stupid shit, but they also told the truth. Marie
might want his body, but she definitely didn’t want to be his old lady, despite
all her sweet little texts to him trying to mend fences.

“Goddamit!” he yelled, throwing the phone
at the concrete block wall of the clubhouse. It hit hard, shattering, as Ruger
stepped outside.

“Problem?” he asked, raising a brow and
looking from the phone to Horse.

Horse shook his head.

“No problem,” he said, tamping down his
anger. He’d made his choice, taken a stand in front of the club. He’d play it
out. But Marie was damned well going to pay him back that fifty grand one way
or another. “Decided it’s time to get a new phone, that’s all.”

“What was wrong with the old one?” Ruger
asked, his voice mild.

“It broke.”

 

Sept. 17—Present
Day

Horse looked down at Jeff, feeling
detached.

The man knelt in the middle of the floor,
hands cuffed behind his back, Picnic standing over him with a gun. Blood ran
down his face—they’d given him a decent beating, but not serious enough to need
a hospital. Just bad enough to make him really, really uncomfortable and
hopefully scare the hell out of Marie.

He’d have a few permanent scars to help him
remember not to fuck over the Reapers too.

“I wonder if sissy’s gonna bail you out?”
Picnic asked Jeff. “You really screwed yourself this time, little man. Do you
not know our motto? Fuck with us and we
will
fuck with you.”

“I’m sorry,” Jeff whispered, eyes wild
behind his puffing eyelids. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t do it on purpose, you’ve
got to give me another chance.”

“How many chances do you need?” Horse
demanded. “It’s hard to keep a straight face, listening to you talk.”

Jeff’s phone pinged on the counter, and
Ruger picked it up.

“Text from Marie,” he said. “She’s gonna be
home in a few, leaving the store now.”

“Text her back,” Jeff said quickly.
“Please, she doesn’t have anything to do with this. Don’t let this happen, just
tell her not to come home for another hour. Don’t let this be her last memory
of me.”

“Shut up,” Picnic said, sounding
exasperated.

Jeff shut up.

“You guys said this was a dump, but I
didn’t realize just how bad,” Ruger said, leaning back against the wall, crossing
his arms in front of him as he surveyed the room. “Can’t believe you let your
sister live like this, fuckwad, especially given how much money we’ve been
paying you.”

“I’m a shitty brother,” Jeff mumbled. “I
know that. But don’t hurt Marie, she’s a sweetheart. Right? Never hurt anyone,
doesn’t deserve this.”

“Oh I’m sure she’s
sweet
,” Ruger
replied, smirking. Horse shot him a dark look, but it didn’t shut him up. Ruger
grinned at him. “You can’t seriously expect us not to fuck with you over this,
Horse.”

Horse shrugged—he didn’t, actually. What a
mess. Fifty grand out the door for a woman who didn’t even want him. He ran a
hand through his hair. At least he’d finally get to fuck her.

For fifty grand her cunt better be lined
with gold.

“She’s pulling up now,” Painter said from
his station near the window. “Got an armful of groceries. Should I help her
carry them in?”

The men just looked at him, Picnic shaking
his head in bemusement.

“Joking, right?” asked Ruger.

“Sorry, guess I didn’t think that one through,”
Painter said. Horse had his doubts about the prospect—still pretty young, and
so green. Could take him years to earn his top rocker at this point. The door
opened and Marie walked in.

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