Reaper's Property (18 page)
Authors: Joanna Wylde
“I’m Dancer,” said a tall, black-haired
woman with chocolate-brown skin. Her features were sharp and she wore her hair
long and straight down her back. She looked Indian to me, and I wondered if she
was part of the Coeur d’Alene tribe. I’d seen several historic markers around
town, and a lot of them seemed to be sponsored by the local tribal casino. “I’m
Bam Bam’s old lady.”
That startled me—Horse was pretty darn pale
to be this woman’s brother, but he’d said his sister was married to Bam Bam.
“You’re Horse’s sister?” I asked. Then I
blushed, realizing how rude I must sound. She laughed.
“Half-sister,” she said. “I’m Coeur
d’Alene, he’s not, but it works. Bam and I have been together forever, got
three beautiful little babies to prove it. I’m really happy to meet you,
honey.”
I smiled a little uncertainly.
“I don’t know how much you know,” I started
to say, thinking I should probably clear things up pretty quick here before
they got the wrong impression.
“We know it all,” said Maggs. She was
petite with shaggy blonde hair, bright eyes and a great big smile. She reminded
me of Goldie Hawn. “I hope you don’t mind, but Darcy told us. I mean, some of
it’s club business and we don’t have those details, but she told us everything
you told her.”
I frowned. I guess I hadn’t exactly sworn
Darcy to secrecy, but I hadn’t expected her to make all the details public
either. Maggs reached forward and took my hand, rubbing it between hers with a
look of concern.
“Oh honey, don’t worry,” she said quickly.
“We’re all family here. If you’re with Horse, you’re with us and trust me,
these boys cause enough trouble that they need all of us to keep them straight.
It’s a group effort.”
The others murmured agreement.
“Old ladies have to stick together,” Darcy
said. “Things can get rough, but no matter what we have each other. This is
your family now, and we’re here to welcome you.”
I shook my head.
“I’m not Horse’s old lady,” I said. “I
don’t know what I am, but we’ve only been together for a couple of days.”
“Bam says Horse is crazy for you,” Dancer
said. That caught my attention in a big way. “Never seen him this way. You may
not get this, but my brother doesn’t exactly have trouble finding women. He
doesn’t need to drive across the state to get laid, Marie. And this collateral
bullshit? The club doesn’t work that way, this is a special situation. He’s
never brought anyone home before. Never.”
“Really?” I asked, still uncertain.
“Never,” she replied. “It’s a rule of his,
actually. ‘No bitches in the house.’ Drives me crazy, he’s such a dumbass,
sexist pig about it. Been that way since high school.”
“Wow.”
“Wow is right,” chimed in Em, a tall,
slender girl with a shy smile. “I never thought Horse would hook up with
someone. We’re excited to have you here. I’m Picnic’s daughter.”
“I saw your pictures!” I said, placing her
now. I could see Picnic’s features in her face, although softened and feminine.
“He showed them to me once when they came to visit. He’s really proud of you.”
“Thanks,” she replied, blushing. “It’s good
to have you here. Dancer’s right, the club is like a family and sometimes it
feels like we’ve got a lot more brothers than sisters. We’re excited to get to
know you.”
“No kidding!” chimed in Cookie, a bouncy,
petite girl who had bright red curls, green eyes and lots of freckles. “I’m
Bagger’s old lady. You haven’t met him, he’s over in Afghanistan right now. We
girls have to stick together, for sure. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t
have Maggs and Dancer and the others to keep me sane.”
“I guess that means it’s my turn,” Maggs
said. “I’m with Bolt, you haven’t met him yet either. He’s down in Kuna, at the
prison.”
That caught my attention. Why was her man
in prison? I felt for her, thinking about visiting Mom in jail. Prison had to
be so much worse, and for longer too. I knew for myself that good people could
do stupid, stupid things.
“My mom’s in jail right now,” I told her,
taking her hand. “She’s going to get out in a few months though. Have you been
on your own for long?”
“About two years now,” she replied, looking
momentarily tired. “But we’re working on an appeal. I know everyone says this,
but Bolt honestly didn’t do what he went down for, and we can prove it. It’s
actually been kind of a big case. Every time there’s a hearing we have reporters
come around like a bunch of fucking scavengers—there’s a big scandal about
prosecutorial misconduct and mishandling DNA evidence. At least I don’t have to
deal with it alone though.”
“Exactly,” said Darcy. “None of us are
alone. And this isn’t all the girls either. This is just the posse I managed to
round up on short notice. Between the Reapers and the Silver Bastards there are
about fifteen old ladies, and we stick together.”
“What about those girls at the party last
night?”
Em made a gagging sound.
“They’re definitely
not
family,” she
said, rolling her eyes. “Bunch of sluts and losers.”
“Some of them are nice girls,” Cookie
protested. “I met Bagger at a club party.”
“That was a real party,” said Em. “Not one
of those drunken fuckfests my dad likes to pretend I don’t know about.”
“Whoever they are, they aren’t old ladies,”
said Dancer firmly. “They aren’t like us, and you aren’t like them,” she added,
catching my eye.
“And that’s why we’re here,” said Cookie.
“We decided you probably need a break, so it’s ladies’ night. We’re going to
take you out and show you just how much fun your new sisters can be.”
I sat up straight, shaking my head and
leaning forward to set down my untouched beer. They might not understand my
situation, but I certainly did. Going out to party was not on the agenda. Horse
left me with orders and I intended to follow them.
“I don’t think Horse would like that,” I
said. “He told me to make dinner, I think he was planning something…”
I trailed off as Dancer walked over to my
purse, pulled out my phone and scrolled through the numbers, hitting one and
putting it on speaker. It rang and then I heard Horse’s voice.
“Babe, what’s up?”
“This is your sister,” Dancer announced,
flashing an evil grin. “We’re kidnapping Marie and taking her out tonight.
You’ll just have to jack off if you get horny. She’ll be busy.”
There was a pause from the phone.
“Give the phone to Marie,” he said. “I need
to talk to her.”
I lunged for it, but Dancer tossed it to
Cookie, who jumped up on the couch to hold it out of my reach. “Too bad! I’ve
got a cooler full of jello shots and a flask, so we’re gonna have fun fun fun!
You might as well camp out at the armory tonight, stud.”
The girls all laughed, but I felt a little
sick. I couldn’t afford to piss Horse off. They might think I was part of the
“family” now, but I knew better.
“Put Marie on the fucking phone,” Horse
said again, and the tone of his voice was not amused one little bit.
“This is Dancer again,” said his sister,
grabbing the phone from Cookie and taking it off speaker. “You might as well
give up, Horse. We’re going to take her, she needs a break and you’re a dick if
you won’t let her have one. I heard what you did last night. Poor girl probably
needs therapy after that. I promise I’ll take good care of her and drive sober.
Find something to do that doesn’t involve shooting anyone, okay?”
Then she hung up the phone.
I stared at her, stunned.
“You can do that?” I asked.
“What?”
“Hang up on Horse.”
Dancer burst out laughing.
“Oh, he’ll be pissed. He and Bam’ll
probably bitch to each other all night. But we’re just going out for a little
fun and he’ll look like a pussy-whipped baby if he makes too big a deal out of
it. And our boys may
be
pussy-whipped, but they sure as fuck don’t want
to
look
like they are. It’s all good.”
I wasn’t too sure about that.
“Time for shots,” said Cookie, hopping off
the couch and walking toward the kitchen. The others pulled me to my feet and
dragged me down the hallway, my phone left behind. Then the music started and
things got a little crazy.
Chapter Sixteen
“That’s disgusting,” yelled Dancer,
slapping at me, and I burst into giggles, almost falling out of my chair.
“That’s my brother you’re talking about. Stop it before I puke!”
I held my hands farther apart, opening my
mouth wide and flicking my tongue at her like a snake. We all exploded into
fresh gales and I nearly peed my pants. Potty break time.
“I’m gonna pee. Anyone?”
Em stood up and we stumbled toward the
bathroom together. Seriously, I loved each and every one of those girls. I
couldn’t imagine why I’d been worried about Horse. Horse kicked ass. In fact,
when I saw Horse tonight I was going to rip off all his clothes and give him
the best blowjob he’d ever had in his life. And Jeff was going to be fine too,
because despite what everyone thought, he really wasn’t totally stupid. I knew
that for a fact, just like I knew that I really, really needed just one more
shot to make the evening perfect.
Old ladies kicked ass.
A couple of guys met us on the way to the
bathroom, one of them holding out a hand to steady me as I lurched into him.
“Can we buy you girls a drink?” he asked,
smiling at me. I smiled back. He was kind of cute in a college-freshman way.
Horse would eat him for breakfast, I mused.
“Not gonna happen,” came a low voice behind
us. I turned to see Painter, one of the Reapers’ prospects, standing behind us
looking mean. With his honed muscles, sneer and white-blond hair all spiked up,
he was pretty hot. Yum. Oops, too much booze… I couldn’t check out Painter,
that was just weird. “You need to step the fuck away from them right now.”
Painter might not have had his top rocker
but he was still a scary biker guy. He’d showed up at Horse’s house about
twenty minutes after Dancer hung up on Horse and had been following us around
ever since. The guys backed away instantly, mumbling apologies. Em turned and
smacked Painter’s chest. He grunted and narrowed his eyes at her, but he didn’t
say anything. I watched the exchange with wide eyes. Em grabbed my arm and
pulled me away toward the bathroom. She slammed the door open, banging it
against the wall as she dragged me in.
“I cannot believe him,” she muttered, walking
over to the stall, which was just an open toilet separated from the rest of the
room with a wooden partition. “How am I supposed to meet anyone like this? I am
never going to find a real boyfriend. Never.”
I swayed, trying to follow her words.
“I don’t get it.”
“Imagine being the oldest daughter of the
president of the Reapers MC,” she said. “How many guys do you think asked me
out in high school? I had to go to my prom with a
prospect
. A prospect
who
wasn’t allowed to dance with me
.”
Oh. Now I got it.
“That sucks,” I said, feeling very sage.
“But it’s probably better than having some guy take advantage of you.”
My own prom was an excellent example—Gary
had been like an octopus on Viagra and I’d been stupid enough to find it
flattering.
“I want a guy to take advantage of me!” Em
snapped, pulling up her jeans. “You have no idea how many guys’ve ditched me
once they learned about my dad. I tried to get away. I even went to college in
Seattle. Picnic had his friends over there checking on me. For about three
months it was great, and then the rumors started that they’d kill anyone who
touched me. You’d think I have two heads or something. I’m a virgin, despite my
very best efforts to give it away, and at this rate I’ll be dead before I find
a penis to put in my vagina.”
I took her place, pulling down my own jeans
and peeing. She made a good point. I decided to tell her that.
“You make a good point,” I said, standing
back up. I swayed again, and she laughed, catching me.
“Wow, I think you ate too much jello.”
She helped me over to the sink. I washed my
hands and we both took a few minutes to check out our hair and makeup. I
thought we looked pretty good—no wonder those guys wanted to buy us drinks. I’d
buy us drinks if I was a guy.
“So who
would
your dad let you
date?”
“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head.
“I’m not sure anyone is good enough. He’d like me to be with someone in the
club though. That way I’ll never move away from him.”
“Aw, that’s kind of sweet,” I said. “I
mean, at least your dad cares about you. I hardly even remember mine.”
She shrugged.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she said. “I
guess I wouldn’t trade him. Mom was pretty great too. I miss her.”
“What happened to her?” I asked, and then
bit my lip. The booze had apparently dissolved the filter between my brain and
my mouth.
“Breast cancer,” she said, clearly not
wanting to talk about it. “Long time ago. Let’s get shots.”
“Sounds good,” I replied, following her out
the door. Painter stood outside, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed,
looking bored. I grabbed Em’s arm and pulled her into me.
“Why does he have to be here?” I
stage-whispered. “Are they afraid I’ll run away or something?”
“Oh it’s not personal. They send someone
with us every time we go out,” she said, shrugging. “Usually a prospect, but
every once in a while Ruger tags along. He’s fun. They don’t want anyone
bothering us. That way we can party and they know we’re safe. It’s no big deal,
at least not for you because you already have a man. For me, it sucks.”
“So all old ladies get watched all the
time?” I asked. “Isn’t that creepy?”
She laughed and shrugged.
“Mostly just when we go out at night,” she
said. “It’s a security thing. There are a lot of clubs and not all of them are
friends to the Reapers. This is their way of making sure nobody hassles us.
Knowing we have a sober ride home. It’s great, unless you’re looking to lose
your virginity.”
I giggled and she glared at me, which made
me giggle more as we headed back out onto the main floor. Then I stopped,
because a tall man wearing Reaper leathers suddenly blocked my path. I looked
up, trying to focus. Max.
“Hey, Max,” said Em. “What are you doing
here?”
“Just felt like getting a drink,” he said,
looking us over with a gleam of approval in his expression. We looked good and
Max noticed.
Nice.
“Talked to Painter, heard you ladies were here.
Thought I’d offer to buy a round. You look great tonight.”
“You’re too sweet,” she replied, smiling up
at him flirtatiously. He smiled back, and I wondered if there might be a little
more going on with Max and Em than I realized. Painter came up next to us,
standing tall as he and Max shared a look. Then Painter shook his head and
stepped back, and he didn’t look happy about it.
That was interesting.
Max followed us back to the table, where
Maggs put him in his place, telling him to buy us drinks and stay out of our
way, “because it’s laaadddieess niiighhttt!” Everyone howled with approval as
he grinned and took orders, bringing back a round of shots. Despite my earlier
conviction that I needed more booze, looking at the little cup of vodka made me
feel sick so I pulled out my phone to see what time it was. Almost two. Horse
had texted about four hours ago.
Going to the Line with the guys. Don’t
wait up.
The Line. Why did that sound familiar? My
brain was all fogged up.
“What’s the Line?” I asked Cookie, who sat
next to me. She’d put on a leather vest before coming into the bar, and her
patches said “Property of Bagger, Reapers MC”. The whole property thing still
made me uncomfortable but she seemed happy enough wearing it. And Cookie wasn’t
exactly oppressed. I’d figured that out by chatting between the jello shots she
poured down my throat. She was way too busy running her coffee shop and taking
care of her and Bagger’s three-year-old daughter to be oppressed.
“Oh that’s the club’s titty bar,” she said.
“Makes a fortune, although those strippers can be such sluts. But some of them
are okay. I always tell Bagger I’m gonna start working there while he’s
deployed and it pisses him off. I love doing that,” she laughed.
“What are you talking about?” yelled Darcy
from across the table.
“The Line!” Cookie yelled back. Darcy got a
huge grin on her face.
“We should go there!”
“What?” I asked, startled. Cookie clapped
her hands.
“Oh that’s a great idea!” she said. “We can
play on one of the poles. I need pictures for Bagger!”
“Are you serious? Why would we go there?” I
demanded, mystified.
“Well, for one thing, if the guys are at
the Line, it’s fun to show up without warning,” said Darcy, winking at me.
“Scare ’em straight, you know? Plus it’s kind of interesting to watch the
dancers. Some of them are really good, I’ve learned some excellent tricks from
them. Boonie can testify to that.”
She leaned over and gave Maggs a high five
for emphasis.
“Not to mention that if your man is gonna
spend the night around naked bitches that aren’t you, it’s not a bad thing to
make sure he brings his hard-on back home, you know?” added Maggs. That was a
good point. I didn’t like the idea of Horse with another woman, I didn’t like
it at all. I scowled down at the phone and the offending text.
“And the shop has support merchandise,” she
added. “I need to pick up a new tank top. Gonna go see Bolt this week, want to
give him something to look forward to.”
“Oh I hate that place,” whined Em. “And if
Dad’s there I’ll have to watch some stripper rub all over him and it’s gross.
No girl should have to watch her dad screw so many different women, especially
when he won’t let me date anyone at all! I’d rather go home.”
“Have Painter give you a ride,” said Max,
coming up behind me and leaning against the back of my chair. He was kind of in
my space, but nobody else seemed to notice so I just scooted forward, frowning.
“It’s almost last call anyway. I’ll take everyone else to the Line, give him a
break.”
Dancer smiled at him.
“That’s sweet, Max,” she said. “Let’s do
it.”
Ten minutes later I was crammed in the back
of her car with the others, Max following us on his bike. I expected Em to
complain about catching a ride home with Painter, but she seemed happy enough
with the situation. That surprised me because I thought I’d caught a hint of
something between her and Max earlier. Apparently I’d imagined it.
It was almost two-thirty in the morning
when we pulled up to the strip club. We stumbled and giggled our way across the
parking lot, which was mostly empty. Then the sign flickered and turned off.
“It’s closed,” I said, stopping in my
tracks. “We can’t go in.”
“Oh that’s the best part,” Darcy said,
grinning at me. “It’s closed to the public, but we aren’t the public, babe. We
can party as long as we want.”
“What about the dancers?” I asked dumbly.
Max laughed behind me, putting a hand on the small of my back and pushing me
forward.
“Don’t worry about them,” he said. “They’re
not old ladies. They won’t get in your way.”
“Last time we were here, Dancer got up on
stage and showed us her moves,” said Cookie, giggling. “It kicked ass. Well, it
kicked ass for everyone but Horse. He looked kinda sick to his stomach.”
“I’m sober this time,” Dancer replied.
“It’s your turn tonight.”
“You know, I think I will,” said Cookie
with a grin. “I could do a little show in one of the private rooms. You film it
for me and I’ll send it to Bagger on the computer. He’s always asking me to
send him pictures. This’ll blow his mind!”
“He’ll definitely blow something,” Maggs
replied, cackling.
A big black guy stood guard by the bar’s
main entrance. He let us in without a word. I’d been inside with Horse the day
before, but things were different tonight. For one, the lights were dim, which
gave the whole place a completely different feel. Sort of murky and dirty.
There were a few waitresses bussing tables and two bartenders restocking and
cleaning up. A man wearing a Reapers’ cut sat in a booth counting money. Music still
played and the center stage held one dancer working the pole. Below her sat
several of the guys nursing beers, including Picnic, Ruger, Bam Bam, Boonie and
a couple of others. I didn’t see Horse.
“Hey, baby,” yelled Darcy, sauntering down
toward them. Just like the night before, Boonie’s face lit up when he saw her
and he stood, turning his back on the naked chick slithering around the pole.
He wrapped his arms around Darcy and they fell into another of those
all-consuming kisses, oblivious to the world. Dancer and Bam Bam were a little
more subdued with their greeting, but they disappeared off into a darkened
booth without a backward glance.
“Fuck, I miss that,” muttered Cookie, and I
glanced over to see tears in her eyes.
“Buck up, bitch,” said Maggs, giving her a
little punch on the shoulder. “You wanna make a porno for your boy, you can’t
be crying in it. That’s not his kink—unless you’ve been holding out on us?”
Cookie laughed, shaking off her melancholy
with a visible force of will. These were strong women, I decided.
Really
strong women. I could learn from them.
“You know I draw the line at soft-core, no
fetish stuff,” Cookie replied, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. “I’m gonna
get drinks. Maggs, show the newbie where the VIP rooms are, will ya? And make
sure it’s wiped down before I strut my stuff. My man likes his girls clean and
tight, no sloppy seconds!”
She gave a little shimmy and we whooped,
clapping. Maggs pointed me across the floor to a long, dark hallway.
“Rooms are over there, sugar,” she said. “I
left my phone in the car, and I’m definitely gonna need my own personal copy of
this for blackmail purposes. See you in a few.”
