Reaper's Property (22 page)

“Interesting times,” Picnic said as Horse
grabbed a seat. “Deke tells me the Portland boys are itching for this.”

“Glad for the excuse,” Deke said. “Jacks’ve
always been trouble, we all know that, but they’ve been working up on us for a
while. Nothing too overt, always just this side of what’s acceptable behavior.
Wearing their cuts on our territory, dicking with support clubs, that kind of
thing. There’s a group of them that’s set up near Brooklyn Park. They’re just
camping in some shitty rental and doing their thing like they think they’re
citizens or something. I know two of them are going to school at PSU, if you
can believe it, and they aren’t doing anything for us to call them on, besides
existing and being general assholes. No respect.”

“They’re up to something,” Horse replied as
yet another half-naked girl set a beer down in front of him. “They always are.
Shit, if it was us, we’d be up to something.”

They all laughed, knowing he was right.

“My thoughts exactly,” Deke replied. “And
since we’re the ones losing shipments, I’m thinking there’s a good chance the
leak is close to home. But no matter how much we check on the local guys, we
haven’t caught them doing shit. I wanted to ask you about this Jensen guy. How
good with computers is he? Do you really think he could hack in, pull stuff
from our home computers, that kind of thing?”

“Yeah, he’s good,” Horse said. “Guys like
him are why I do the books on a laptop without a wireless card. Lock it in a
safe, back it up once a week and keep that backup in a different safe. That’s
the only kind of computer security we can really trust.”

“That’s what I thought,” Deke replied. He
tugged on his short, black goatee, shaking his head. The Portland president was
a big guy with long, black hair he kept in a ponytail. His arms were covered in
full-sleeve tattoos, and the rumor was he operated as national’s unofficial hit
man. Horse didn’t doubt it for a minute. “We find him, we have to get rid of
him unless he hands us the Jacks. Even then, might have to get rid of him.”

Horse nodded, knowing the truth of it.
Fuck, this was gonna kill Marie.

“If it comes down to that, can you make it
an accident? Maybe in a couple of months?”

“I can,” Deke replied, glancing over at
Picnic, who shrugged. “Gotta tell you, I’m a little concerned about your commitment
on this one, Horse. You seem more worried about your girl’s feelings than
someone fucking with the club. We got a problem?”

Horse shook his head.

“No problem,” he replied. “This is my life,
I know that and she knows it too. Just hoping to walk out alive and still keep
my old lady. We all make sacrifices. Hoping mine isn’t bigger than it needs to
be.”

“Good to hear,” Deke said. “I’ll keep that
in mind. Make our lives easier if the Jacks killed him anyway.”

“That’s the truth,” Picnic said. “But don’t
count on it—they’ve never done anything to help us before, doubt they’ll start
now. Wish we had better control over the timing, but it’ll be good to take them
down, especially given your situation, Deke. But that’s enough business. I know
you boys had a long ride today. Time for some hospitality.”

Picnic glanced around, spotting a couple of
girls standing not too far away. He whistled, calling them over.

“Take care of Deke and Grenade for me, will
you?”

They smiled and obediently moved toward the
visiting charter officers. Picnic looked at Horse and cocked an eyebrow.

“You planning to partake tonight?”

Horse shook his head.

“Got something better waiting for me
upstairs,” he said. “Giving her some time to settle in, get used to what’s
happening. That’s all.”

“Some men say a brother who’s afraid to
enjoy pussy at a party is a pussy himself,” Picnic replied. “Who’s in charge,
you or the old lady?”

Horse laughed.

“You’re full of shit,” he replied. “When
your old lady was alive, you were a monk. I saw how it was.”

Picnic looked thoughtful and took a long
pull of his beer. Then he looked up and held Horse’s gaze.

“Caught a lot of shit for that,” he said.
“But I’m telling you, I’d give every piece of ass I’ve had in my life for
another day with that woman. This,” he continued, gesturing toward the party.
“This is good fun. But it’s not the real thing. We’ll do our best to protect
your girl. And if we take out Jensen, we’ll do it quiet. Want you to know
that.”

“Thanks,” Horse said. “You’re a good
brother.”

“That’s what it’s all about,” Picnic
replied. He smiled. “What I said aside, my old lady may not be here, but
remembering her makes me horny as fuck. Girl in the office only took the edge
off. Think I’ll do something about that.”

Picnic got up, moving toward another group
of giggling women. Hands came around Horse’s head from behind, covering his
eyes as a warm body pressed into his back.

“Hey sexy,” said a woman’s voice. He
recognized it instantly and smiled broadly. Serena. He pulled her hands off and
stood to hug her.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” he said,
stepping back to take her in. “Fantastic like always. Haven’t been around at
all lately, what’s up with that?”

She offered a knowing smile.

“I’ve got a new man, I think. Guy from
California, comes up here on his private jet, that kind of thing. Been seeing
him for a while, but his divorce is final now, so he’s got a little more
freedom. We’ve been hanging out. I’m thinking about heading south with him,
unless there’s a better reason for me to stay around here…”

Horse caught the unasked question and shook
his head ruefully.

“I’m taken, babe.”

She nodded, looking a little wistful but
not unhappy or surprised. That was Serena—always a realist, and a good friend
too. He’d been hooking up with her on and off since high school, and she was
one of the few women he’d slept with that he actually liked and trusted.

“I heard rumors,” she replied. “Kind of
scary rumors, to be honest. Answer me one question and I’ll leave you alone.
She a prisoner?”

Horse shrugged.

“I told her she can leave, but her
brother’s under a sentence. It’s way beyond her now, he’s on his own at this
point.”

Serena studied his face, then shook her
head.

“You’re tricky,” she replied. “You ‘told’
her she can leave? Does she know you lied?”

“We’re not having this conversation,” Horse
said, his voice firm. Serena laughed.

“Okay, big boy. Just asking. I always
thought the two of us might make something of it, that kind of thing. But I’m
happy for you, Horse, I really am. You’re one of the good ones. Buy a lady a
drink, for old times’ sake?”

He offered her his arm as they headed
toward the bar. Just one girl danced on top now, and she’d lost her clothes.
The other was down on a couch, one of the brothers from LeGrande eating her out
while she gave a blowjob to another. It didn’t interest him much, which made
Horse feel sort of old and jaded. He might be taken, but a man could still
look. But honestly, it just seemed so boring.

He snagged a couple of beers for them from
the bar and looked around for a spot quiet enough to talk, but it wasn’t
happening.

“Let’s go upstairs to the game room.”

Nearly half of the armory’s the second
floor was a large, open room where they’d set up pool tables, an air hockey
table and a bunch of old couches. There was a big-screen TV up against one wall
hooked to the satellite and about six different kinds of video consoles. Later
on people might bed down in here, but for now it was quiet. Down the hallway
was a series of rooms they used for all kinds of things, from storing extra
inventory for the businesses to privacy for a quickie. He escorted Serena to
the couch in front of the TV. She looked around, eyes lingering on the hallway.

“The room in use tonight?”

Horse grimaced and shrugged.

“Who knows,” he said. “Nobody makes ’em do
it. You starting to judge?”

She shook her head and laughed, leaning
toward him to brush her hand along his cut.

“Babe, I’ve spent a night or two in there
myself,” she replied, winking. “I think you were off with the Marines or
something.”

“You mean you were with someone else while
I was gone?” he asked, clutching a hand to his heart, pretending to be
offended. She burst out laughing.

“You know me. I’ll stand by my man so long
as he’s in the room and has a pile of cash.”

Horse laughed with her, loving her honesty.
Being with Serena was comfortable, no question. A part of him wished he could
care about her the way he did about Marie. They would’ve been a good pair, and
she sure as shit knew her way around the club. Intimately. Yeah, that wouldn’t
work, he decided. Someone took her as property the other old ladies would
probably kill her.

Or she’d kill them, he decided, eyeing the
long, red talons she called fingernails.

“What’s the look for?” she asked, arching a
brow.

“Just wondering who’d win if you got into
it with the old ladies,” he answered. “I’m not sure.”

She burst out laughing so hard that she
snorted beer out her nose, which made her laugh more. That’s what he loved
about Serena—whatever she did, she did it openly and without any pretense. He
took the glass from her, looking around to find something to help her clean up.
There was an old sweatshirt tucked into the end of the couch, so he snagged it
and leaned toward her, helping to wipe off her chest and lap. Serena didn’t
help, giggling and slapping at him.

“You’re just trying to cop a feel, you
dirty bastard!” she exclaimed. He grinned at her.

“Yeah, you know me. Always looking for my
next lay.”

Then a voice cut through his laughter and
it was his turn to choke.

“I can see why you t-t-t-told me to wait
upst-t-t-t-tairs.”

Horse turned his head to see Marie standing
behind the couch, wrapped in a blanket, face pale and teeth chattering.

“Well, shit,” he muttered. Serena looked
between them, eyes wide.

“I take it this is the old lady?”

Chapter
Eighteen

Marie

I couldn’t get the window closed.

It was stupid to open it but I’ve got a bit
of a claustrophobia thing. To be fair, I was stuck in a room alone all by
myself, and it wasn’t a particularly big room. I heard the noise of the party
below and I knew that Horse would be up eventually. But the bars on the window
and the fact that I couldn’t make contact with Jeff
and
I couldn’t leave
made me feel a little panicky.

So I decided to open the window for some
fresh air.

Of course it was stuck, so I worked at it,
rocking the old wooden sash back and forth until I got my fingers underneath.
Then I braced against the floor and pushed up with all I had. Because I have
shitty luck, it held for a second then burst free, sliding all the way up and
getting stuck again, this time open. It took about ten minutes before I
realized this might be a serious problem. The place was heated with one of
those big old freestanding radiators that didn’t have separate controls for
individual rooms, so I couldn’t turn it up. It hadn’t been too warm in here to
begin with. Outside the night was cold and clear and perfect, the evergreens on
the hillsides surrounding us dusted with a hint of frost like something out of
a Christmas card.

Now it was becoming cold and clear but
not-so-perfect in the room.

I tried to get it closed of course. And I
put on my coat, but it was just my leather jacket and not particularly warm.
I’d been looking for a winter coat but they all cost so much and I didn’t like
spending money, so I’d been hunting in consignment shops for just the right
thing. I started pacing, trying to decide what to do next. I dug in my purse,
pushing aside my gun to find my phone. Not that I carried the gun all the time,
but Horse wanted it with me until they dealt with the Jacks.

No voicemails or texts, but I decided I
might as well check my email. There was a new message from Jeff on the webmail
account. I start reading, a sinking sensation filling my stomach.

Sis, I’m glad they haven’t hurt you. You
need to play along and do what they ask, don’t give them any reason not to
treat you well. I’m sending a decoy message to your main account too, telling
you that I’m thinking about getting in touch with them. But you need to know
the Reapers are bad guys and they won’t hesitate to kill you. Neither will the
Devil’s Jacks, but I’ve got things worked out with them so that you and I
should be okay.

Couple of things you need to know. You
say it’s good between you and Horse, and that scares me. He’s stringing you
along, you can’t trust this guy at all. I’ve learned a lot about him. Did you
know he was special forces in Afghanistan? His specialty was recon, which means
they’d send him out ahead to get information and do their dirty work. He killed
a lot of people and he got investigated for murdering civilians. Women and
children, sis. They were going to court martial him, but then the witnesses
either wouldn’t talk or disappeared. It was a cover-up, that’s the only
explanation. They couldn’t even give him a dishonorable discharge, that’s how
sneaky he was. Here are some links to articles about the massacre. I found
other records too, but I can’t send them to you, it’s too dangerous.

Your boyfriend is a killer and if he
finds out you know the truth, he’ll probably kill you too. Do what he says and
play the good girl. Write to me on the other email account and I’ll pretend to
cooperate. Play dumb and be ready. I’ll contact you again later this week when
I have things set up. Remember, it’s not enough for you to just hop in your car
and drive away. They may look like a club, but they’re like the mafia. We need
an escape plan for all of us, you, me and Mom, and I’m working on it. Just hold
on a little longer.

I love you and I’m sorry I got you into
this. You’ll never know how sorry I am.

Jeff

I followed the link to a news story from
eight years ago. A bunch of Afghani families were murdered in their houses,
located in a region under the control of US allies, but heavily infiltrated by
Taliban forces as well. A Marine recon team was under investigation for war crimes.
Included was a picture of a much younger Horse, in one of those standard
military mug shots you see all the time.

I barely made it to the bathroom before I
threw up.

Afterward I lay down on the bed, wrapping
the covers around me and listening to the noise of the party below. An hour
passed before I realized that no matter how depressed I felt, I couldn’t just
stay in the bed. The room was bitter cold now, and the blankets nowhere near
thick enough to protect me. I tried texting Picnic with numb fingers. No
response. I thought about calling one of the girls, but with the party going on
below I knew that was a bad idea. Jeff said to keep the Reapers happy. I ran a
hundred different ideas through my head and then texted Horse. Nothing. Then I
called him. No answer.

That’s when I ventured out of my room into
the hallway. I knew there were other rooms up here, it’s where they put up
guests or members when they needed a place to land. I could go to one of those
and warm up while I waited. The doors were all locked, though. Now my teeth
were chattering and I fumbled to hold the blanket around me. No getting around
it—I needed to go downstairs and find Horse.

The third floor of the building was only
about half as wide as the first two, just one long hallway running the length
of the building with a single row of rooms on either side. There were
stairwells on each end. The main stairs, which I’d come up with Horse,
intersected the game room and the main lounge. But the back stairwell bypassed
the game room entirely and let out down by the offices. I figured I’d attract
less attention there, so that’s where I went. Unfortunately, the door was
locked on the main level, which left me to go back up or out into the cold of
the courtyard. Easy call. I climbed back up to the second floor, pushing
through the door from the stairwell as quietly as possible. I heard voices and
grunting and shouts coming from an open door on my left. I walked toward it
slowly, hoping I’d find Horse in there.

What I saw shocked me.

There were five men standing around the
room, none of them guys I recognized but all wearing Reapers’ cuts. They stood
around a bed with one woman on it, and she was getting fucked—seriously
fucked—by a man standing at the edge of the bed, pants just pushed down, hands
holding her tight around the hips.

“Harder, baby!” she yelled, giving a little
howl and arching her back.

“Jesus, can’t believe this bitch,” muttered
one of the guys, and I recognized his voice. Max. I saw him now. He’d been
turned away from me before. I couldn’t move. I just stood watching as the man
at the foot of the bed finished with a grunt, then pulled out and stepped
aside. Max stepped forward to take his place.

Oh my god, she was doing all of them. I
studied her face, wondering why she wasn’t screaming for them to get off her,
but if anything she looked satisfied. Not so much sexually satisfied but
triumphant. I shook my head, backing away and shuffling down the hallway,
feeling disgusted and sick. Horse might not have been in there, but this was his
clubhouse and his club. Did he know about stuff like this? Did it happen often?
I couldn’t wrap my head around it, didn’t want to wrap my head around it. I
just wanted to run down to my car and get in and drive as far and as fast as I
could.

But I remembered Jeff’s email. I couldn’t
do that. They might find me, or they might find him. They could even go after
Mom. She was stuck in jail, and God only knew what kind of connections guys
like this had in jail. I’d watched
Oz
on Netflix last winter, I’d seen
how prisons worked. Were jails the same way? I didn’t think so, but could I bet
Mama’s life on that?
You can do this,
I chanted under my breath.
You
can do this, you’re strong and smart and you’re going to figure everything out.
Just put on your big-girl panties and get on with it.

I continued down the hall, taking deep
breaths and forcing myself to stay calm. It was a lot warmer on the second
floor, which felt incredible. I was still freezing and shivering in my jacket
and blanket, but I’d survive. I’d already survived losing my dad, not to
mention Gary. I walked into the game room to see a couple sitting on the couch,
very close to each other. Their posture was intimate, like people who’d known
each other for years and were comfortable together. The woman was laughing.

It was Horse and some girl I didn’t
recognize.

“Just wondering who’d win if you got into
it with the old ladies,” Horse was saying to her. “I’m not sure.”

She burst out laughing even harder,
snorting and spilling her beer. Horse chuckled, grabbing the beer and fumbling
around on the couch. I saw him lean into her, rubbing her chest, his hands
disappearing lower. The woman giggled and slapped at him.

“You’re just trying to cop a feel, you
dirty bastard!” she exclaimed. He grinned at her.

“Yeah, you know me. Always looking for my
next lay.”

Wow. The cold in my body was nothing
compared to the ice filling my heart. Jeff was right. I didn’t know this man
and I certainly couldn’t trust him. He’d promised. I’d been an idiot and now I
had to stay with him and do what he said and pretend not to know he might have
murdered women and children in some remote village in Afghanistan. I felt
myself starting to panic, so I clamped down on my emotions, withdrawing deep
inside where I’d be safe. I couldn’t even run away and hide—I had nowhere to
go. Then I spoke.

“I can see why you t-t-t-told me to wait
upst-t-t-t-tairs,” I said, startled by how much my teeth chattered when I
spoke. Horse turned and looked at me, his face hardening, eyes full of guilt. I
wondered why he bothered.

“Well, shit,” he muttered. The woman next
to him looked rapidly between us, eyebrows raised.

“I take it this is the old lady?” she
asked.

“Fuck,” said Horse, pushing up from the
couch so hard it slid back a foot across the old wooden floor, stalking toward
me. I thought maybe I should run but I couldn’t seem to move. He grabbed my
shoulders and shook them, punctuating his words. “I told you to stay in your
room. What are you doing down here? You realize what could happen to you at a
party like this? Jesus!”

I didn’t reply, just let him shake me and
mused at how truly insane my life had become.

“What’s wrong with you?” he said finally,
anger disappearing as he reached out and felt my face. “Shit, you’re freezing!
What the fuck? Talk to me, Marie.”

“M-m-my wind-d-dow is st-tuck,” I managed
to say. “I t-tried to c-c-call you.”

He dug into his pocket, pulling out his
phone, punching it on and finding the notifications. He winced.

“Shit,” he said, pulling me into his arms,
rubbing my back hard. “I couldn’t hear it. I’m so sorry, I can’t believe how
cold you are. You need to get warmed up. Serena, run to the office and grab the
apartment keys. Meet me upstairs.”

He swung me up into his arms and carried me
back to the third floor. Thankfully we didn’t go back down the long hallway,
past the crazy woman and the group of men taking turns screwing her. I don’t
think I could’ve handled that. The woman—Serena—was fast, because she came
rushing up with the keys right behind us. Horse stopped by a room on the other
end of the hallway from my original one, waiting impatiently as she fumbled the
door open. He set me down on the bed and stripped me methodically, ignoring my
protests. Then I was totally naked and under the covers.

“Go down to the room on the far end and get
her stuff,” he said to Serena. “All of it, bring it down here and then lock up.
We’ll deal with the window situation tomorrow.”

Serena disappeared and I wanted to protest.
I didn’t want Horse’s whore touching my things. I bit my lip, remembering Jeff’s
email. Horse killed people. Maybe women like me. Children. I thought about his
guns, how easily he handled them, how he’d made me practice for hours with my
little .22. I remembered our first night together, when we’d watched the Johnny
Depp flick and he’d talked about how the hand-to-hand combat was all wrong.

I guess he’d know.

Horse crawled into bed beside me,
buck-naked, spooning me and wrapping around my body like a big, warm blanket.
My body craved his heat, soaking it up even as my mind stayed cool and
detached. The more I warmed up the harder I shivered until my jaw hurt from
clenching my teeth and I ached. Serena bustled in with my things at some point,
then closed the door and disappeared. The entire time Horse made soothing
noises and rubbed me softly, and for once he didn’t try to touch my breasts or
reach between my legs. Finally I stopped shivering and I drowsed.

“Babe,” he whispered, kissing the top of my
head softly. “Babe,” he said again, shaking me gently. I stirred against him,
and he rolled me over and onto my back, rising over me on his elbows. “Why was
the window open? What happened?”

He sounded so worried, so loving. Would a
murderer be able to fake that kind of emotion? But how many times had I looked
at Horse and thought he was more like two different men—good and bad—stuck in
one body? I couldn’t explore that right now, I couldn’t let him know what I’d
found out.

“I just needed some fresh air,” I said,
deliberately keeping my voice soft and weak. It wasn’t much of a stretch. “It
got stuck and I couldn’t get it closed again. The room got colder and colder
and I waited too long before I left to get help. It’s okay, I’m fine, Horse.
Honestly.”

“Why are you always saying that to me?” he
asked, although it seemed like he was talking to himself. “You’re so strong,
always strong. You shouldn’t have to be that way. I should’ve been there for
you. I’m so sorry, babe.”