Reaper's Property (6 page)
Authors: Joanna Wylde
That worked for me.
I drifted in and out after that. Cool water
dabbed my face. Horse stuck some pills in my mouth and then held up a cup of
water for me to swallow. Jeff sat next to me, holding my hand as the pain faded
completely. Good pills, I mused. Definitely not Tylenol. Bikes roared and then
I drifted away. When morning came Jeff called in to work, told them I’d been in
an accident and would probably need several days off. He tried to get me to eat
some breakfast but I couldn’t handle the thought of food. I decided to just lie
in bed feeling sorry for myself. Around ten I heard the rumble of bikes again,
but this time the whole crew didn’t come inside, just Horse. He walked in and
sat next to me on the bed without saying anything.
“I’m pretty tired,” I said, refusing to
look at him. I felt so stupid, so embarrassed. I knew Gary could get violent.
They warned me at the Women’s Center not to go back by myself, but I’d felt so
silly being afraid to visit my own house. “I think you should go.”
Horse stroked a finger along my collarbone,
one of the only visible places on my body without ugly purple bruises.
“He’s not going to hurt you again,” he
said.
“It’s not your problem, Horse,” I replied.
I didn’t want to talk to him. I just wanted to close my eyes and sleep, forget
for a little while about what had happened.
“It’s not your problem anymore either.”
Something in his voice caught my attention,
so I forced myself to look up at him. His eyes were bloodshot and the muscles
in his unshaven jaw clenched. He lifted my hand and kissed it very softly.
That’s when I saw his knuckles.
They were completely torn up, crusted over
with blood.
He followed my gaze, shaking his head
slowly, offering me a strange, sad little smile.
“Don’t ask the question unless you want to
hear the answer,” he said. “I’ve gotta go, we’re on a long run. California. If
anyone asks, you were in a car accident, okay? Don’t go into it any further
than that, as soon as you give out too much information or complicate a lie,
it’s harder to keep up with it.”
I nodded, closing my eyes again.
I didn’t even consider asking how he hurt
his knuckles.
Chapter
Six
Now I sat outside the trailer in a camp
chair, reading an old romance of my mom’s and listening to the roar of a bike
coming down our driveway.
Horse.
The others weren’t with him, and I didn’t
know what to say as he walked over to me. I still felt stupid and
self-conscious. Not only had he seen me at my lowest, but I still looked like
hell. Thankfully I’d been right in my initial assessment of the damage—nothing
broken, nothing permanent.
“You look like shit,” Horse said helpfully
as he pulled up a lawn chair next to me. He sounded almost cheerful, which
annoyed me. I glared at him and he smirked. “Still got a sweet butt though.”
I went from annoyed to pissed.
“Don’t call me that,” I snapped. “I don’t
like it.”
“I know,” he replied. “That’s why I do it.
You’re cute when you’re pissed. Kind of like a wet kitten. Gets me hard.”
My jaw dropped. Horse leaned back in his
chair, running his fingers through his dark, messy hair, grinning at me with
that perfect mouth, stubble so long it had turned into a short beard. The man
looked extremely pleased with himself.
“Hear from the ex?” he asked.
I shook my head, deciding not address the
“gets me hard” comment.
“Glad to hear it, I don’t think he’ll be
bothering you again,” he replied. “The guys will be here in a couple hours.
They’re grabbing some food, we’ll camp here tonight before heading home.”
“Um, that sounds good,” I said. “Does Jeff
know?”
He shook his head.
“No, I just wanted to check on you,” he
said. “Is he around?”
I shook my head.
“He went to the casino with some friends,
said he might crash at Krissy’s tonight.”
Horse’s face didn’t change, but I felt a
distinct chill. Well, fair enough. I didn’t like Jeff going to the casino
either. He must have work for them he hadn’t finished yet. Jeff had been going
downhill fast the past few weeks, and I couldn’t seem to do anything to halt it
or help him.
“Don’t let that stop you,” I added quickly.
“You guys are welcome to stay here, especially if you’re bringing your own
food.”
I meant it too. Even though he’d scared the
hell out of me that unforgettable morning, I felt safe around him, especially
now. When I’d been hurt, he protected me. I knew he’d done something nasty to
Gary. I supposed I should be upset about that, because violence never solves
anything. But Gary deserved whatever he got and then some.
“You want anything to drink?” Horse asked,
taking in the empty plastic cup sitting next to me on a plastic milk crate. I
smiled at him, trying not to wince as it pulled at my split lip.
“Iced tea?”
“You got it,” he said, snagging my cup and
carrying it inside. He came back out with a second one for himself. We sat
companionably for the rest of the afternoon, talking about all kinds of things.
I learned he’d grown up in a biker family and his father had been one of the
first Reapers. His sister was married to Bam Bam. When I’d first met them, the
MC had seemed like a gang of thugs, but the way Horse described it was more
like a family. A crazy, loud family that fought a lot and occasionally went to
jail, but still a family.
That I could understand—after all, my mama
was more than a little crazy and sitting in the county jail as we spoke. I
still loved her to pieces.
I told him about the brochures I had in my
bedroom from the community college in the Tri-Cities. They had a culinary arts
program, and the people at the Women’s Center had encouraged me to look into
going back to school.
“It’s a good idea,” he said. “I know you
like the daycare, but that’s not a long-term thing unless you decide to open a
center yourself.”
I shook my head, laughing.
“No way,” I said. “The kids are fun, but I
can’t imagine doing that for the rest of my life. Too many diapers.”
“So you don’t want kids of your own? Had
enough diapers?”
I shrugged.
“Well, I don’t want to be a single mom,
that’s for sure,” I replied. “My mom’s in jail right now for assault with a
deadly weapon, which was pretty stupid of her, I admit. But she took good care
of us growing up. She worked her ass off before she blew out her back and
started drinking. Chronic pain, you know? But she never would have tried to run
over that cop if she’d stuck it out in the anger management program. I’m still
not sure why she went after the second guy, he’s not the one who wrote the
parking ticket…”
Horse burst out laughing, biting it back
quick.
I shook my head, narrowing my eyes. He
wouldn’t meet my eye, taking a quick drink of his tea. Then I reached over and
poked his side and another laugh escaped, which he tried to hide with a cough.
I decided to let him off the hook.
“It’s okay,” I said with a smile. “Even Mom
laughed when she finally calmed down, and thankfully she never came close to
actually hitting them. It wasn’t her finest moment, that’s for sure. She’s got
another four months ahead of her though, which isn’t nearly as funny.”
We fell silent for a few minutes. Then he
spoke again.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Oh, the kids,” I looked up at the clouds.
One of them looked kind of like my mom holding a cigarette. I smiled.
“Actually, I think I’d like kids. But not by myself and not if I can’t stay
home with them. Jeff and I had to be on our own way too much, and while I don’t
blame Mom for that, I want something better for my own family.”
I looked over to find him staring at me
intently. I blushed, though I couldn’t say why.
“What about you?”
“I want kids,” he said. “My mom would kill
me if I didn’t give her at least a couple of grandbabies. Never had an old lady
though, not a keeper at least. Kinda hard to have one without the other.”
“That’s the truth,” I replied, feeling more
uncomfortable by the minute. “Tell me something. What’s with the ‘old lady’
thing? Seems like a nasty thing to call someone you care about.”
“It’s a term of respect,” he replied. I
shrugged, but he reached out and touched my shoulder, getting me to look at
him. His expression was intent and focused. “Seriously, a biker’s old lady is
like his wife. She’s his woman, his property, and if anyone fucks with her the
entire club will come down on them. Hard.”
“Property?” I asked, wrinkling my nose.
“That sounds even worse.”
“You don’t get it,” he said, shaking his
head. “Things are different in the outside world, but the club is a tribe. If a
woman isn’t claimed, she’s fair game. But when a biker brands her as his
property, she’s untouchable.”
“I still can’t imagine being called
property,” I snapped. He blew out his breath, exasperated.
Before he could reply, we heard the roar of
pipes in the distance. For once, his friends had good timing. They pulled into
the yard with a rumble, carrying bags full of KFC chicken and biscuits. I don’t
usually eat stuff like that, but as the sun faded and they laid out their
bedrolls, I couldn’t imagine anything tastier than the plate of junk food
balanced on my knees.
None of them mentioned my bruises, which I
appreciated. Picnic brought me a box of chocolate-covered dried cherries. They
built a bonfire and we all sat around drinking beer and laughing until my head
drooped. When I got up to go to bed, Horse followed me in and it felt natural
for him to climb in beside me. He seemed to understand how sore I was and
didn’t so much as kiss me, although I felt his erection several times during
the night. I felt safe in his arms. The next day they took off at first light
while I was still half asleep.
That afternoon I got a text from Horse,
telling me to look at the “favorites” list on my phone.
He’d programmed himself into it, right at
the top.
Aug. 23
Horse:
How’s it going?
Me:
Good. Kid barfed at me at work, but
I managed to jump out of the way :)
Horse:
Sounds like fun. Bike broke down
here
Me:
That sucks. You have a car?
Horse:
SUV. Good for getting around, esp
in snow. Hate feeling caged tho. What you doing?
Me:
In yard, catching sun.
Horse:
What you wearing?
Me:
Nothing. Working on tan all over
Horse:
!!!! You fucking me????
Me:
LOL I’m wearing a tee and shorts
:->
Horse:
Too good to be true. Going to try
to make it down next week
Me:
Give me heads up
Horse:
I will. TTYL
Aug. 27
Me:
Bored. Hows the bike?
Horse:
Bored is better than barfed on.
Bike up and running again.
Me:
Congrats! Kind of excited, going out
tonight. Friend Cara from HS came to visit from NY. Like old times
Horse:
Out?
Me:
Dancing in tri-cities. Some club.
Gonna slut up and everything!
Horse:
Huh. Be careful
Me:
Always. Excited tho. Haven’t gone
out since Gary
Horse:
Looking for new man?
Me:
Um…not really. Just fun
Horse:
Watch out and don’t dress too
slutty. Don’t want trouble
Me:
Had enough trouble, trust me
Horse:
True. Send me a pic later
Me:
OK
Me:
So what you think? Too slutty?
Horse:
Hot. Definitely too slutty. Go
change.
Me:
Prude :-P
Horse:
Text me when you get home
Me:
Night gone to shit
Horse:
?
Me:
Jeff is sick, really sick. Asked me
to stay home with him. Thought I might have to take him to the hosp but all
right now
Horse:
That sucks. He okay?
Me:
Think so. Getting checked tomorrow,
stomach pain
Horse:
Sorry
Me:
Me too. Cara leaving tomorrow, so no
party for me…
Aug. 28
Horse:
Hows Jeff?
Me:
Fine, like nothing happened. Doc
says must have been gas
Horse:
Heh
Me:
Bad gas
Horse:
Sorry about going out. Glad
nobody saw you dressed like that
Me:
Jealous? ;)
Horse:
What do you think? Gotta go,
church in a few
Me:
Church?!?? Didn’t peg you for a
church kind of guy
Horse:
What we call a club meeting. I
try to stay away from collection plates
Me:
Don’t get holy water in your beer!
Sept. 1
Me:
Going to see mom today. Hate jail
Horse:
Watch out for LEO
Me:
LEO?
Horse:
Law enforcement officers. Jail
crawling with them
Me:
LOL. Cause I break so many laws?
Horse:
No, cause you keep bad company
:-> Social visit or something up?
Me:
Just regular, try to go every week
since closer now. Harder when I lived with Gary. Didn’t like me seeing her.
Calls cost too much $ tho, so visiting important.
Horse:
I get it. Got brothers inside.
Hope visit is good
Me:
Thanks
Horse:
Send another pic?
Me:
Um, not dressed up
Horse:
Don’t care. Send it. Want to see
you today
Me:
Okay :)
I’ve spent way too many hours in the
waiting room, although I know it’s probably better than visiting a real prison.
The county guys look at me like I’m trash and occasionally they cop a feel
while patting me down.
That’s the price of seeing my mom.
They put me in a little room that had a
built-in table, sort of like those tables at McDonald’s where you can’t move
the chairs. But here the chairs are just stools and the whole thing is white.
After a few minutes the door opened and Mom came in. She was wearing an orange
jumpsuit, and even though it had to be the ugliest piece of clothing on earth,
Mom looked fantastic. Seriously. My mom is hot, always has been, something that
drove me crazy during high school. But from the way she walked, I could tell
that her back was hurting worse than usual. She had a bunch of ruptured discs
and no health insurance to fix them. The doctors wanted her to have surgery,
but the county didn’t want to pay for it, so she was stuck in limbo.
I stood and hugged her.
“Hey, Mama,” I whispered into her hair,
which looked fantastic even though she didn’t have any styling stuff or
anything. How did her hair look better in jail than mine did after two hours
fixing it? Just another part of the mystery that was my crazy, loving,
incredibly-difficult-at-times mother.
“Hey, baby,” she replied, holding me tight.
She smelled a little like cigarettes, which I know a lot of people find
disgusting but I find strangely comforting—so long as it’s not totally filling
our trailer with smoke. It made me think of when she’d come home late at night
after work when we were little. She’d walk into the bedroom I shared with Jeff
and kiss us both good night. That little hint of smoke was the smell of comfort
and safety.
