Reaper's Property

Chapter Thirteen

I don’t know quite what I expected from the Silver Bastards’ clubhouse. Some dark pit full of bikers and sluts screwing on tables maybe, or drugs changing hands in the street out front while armed guards with machine guns patrolled restlessly.

Not so much.

We pulled up around ten at a low, squat building that looked like every other small-town bar on earth. It sat outside the thriving metropolis of Callup, Idaho, located just six short miles from Bumfuck, Egypt. I saw a faded sign reading “Silver Bastards” over the door, and there had to be at least thirty bikes parked out front. A couple of guys hung outside, watching over the bikes, and when Horse pulled up they exchanged friendly grunts.

“Prospects,” he murmured, putting his arm around my neck possessively and pulling me tight into his side as we walked through the door. His body heat felt good. Even with my jacket (left with the bike, of course—wouldn’t want to risk covering up that classy corset!) the ride had been chilly. “See how they only have a bottom rocker, not three patches? That’s how you tell. They watch the bikes, run errands, shit like that. They’ll keep an eye on my bike even though they aren’t Reapers because this is a support club.”

I wasn’t too sure what all that meant, but remembering his warnings about club business, I didn’t ask. Inside, the mountain-side watering hole motif continued. Scuffed wood floors, a long bar on one wall with a hallway beyond, presumably leading to rest rooms. Lots of high tables with stools stood in the center of the room, with couches lining the walls and arranged in groups for conversation. The music was loud but not too loud, and several women dressed remarkably similar to me were dancing in an open area toward the back. A guy stood behind the bar, and when he turned away I saw he was another prospect.

Men stood up as we walked in, all rough-looking, all wearing cuts. A girl in a bikini top and Daisy Dukes asked us if we wanted anything to drink. The guys didn’t speak to Horse unless he spoke first, which was weird, because clearly they were eager to talk to him. I decided Horse must be the biker equivalent of visiting royalty. He did say this was a support club, so the attitude of respect and deference must be part of that. Strange that a whole different world of bikers, complete with their own bars and laws and leaders, could exist without regular people like me even knowing about it—yet here we were, smack-dab in the middle of that world.

I stayed close to Horse as he exchanged back-thumps and manly hugs with some of the other guys. Then he grabbed my hand and pulled me behind him toward a couch against the back wall, which magically cleared for us. I nearly fell over trying to keep up in my ridiculous heels. He took a spot on one end, spreading out and relaxing as he pulled me down onto his lap sideways, my back against the arm rest, legs dangling down over his. His left arm cradled me and he dropped his right hand down to my leg, fingers sliding up the inside of my thigh. This pushed my skirt high enough that the big, burly man who sat down on the other side of the couch had to see my bright-red thong-style panties. Not cool.

I leaned over and whispered in Horse’s ear, “Why don’t you just pee on me and get it over with?”

“Don’t flip me any shit, Marie,” he replied softly. “You wanna fight with me, do it in private. It makes me hard when you run that mouth of yours. Right now I’m picturing it wrapped around my cock. That’s between you and me. But tonight, in public, you do what I say or things will get ugly. Nobody insults a Reaper in front of an audience, not without consequences, and they are always extreme.”

He squeezed my thigh for emphasis, brushing a fingertip against the front of my panties to make his point. His cock grew under my ass and I shivered. Horse talking tough turned me on in a way that my brain insisted was flat-out wrong. My body remembered exactly how good it felt to take him inside though, and it wouldn’t be happy until he filled me up again. At least I wasn’t the only one suffering. I wiggled a little more to get back at him, enjoying the sharp intake of his breath as my butt teased his dick.

“Kelly, get your ass over here with a drink for the man,” the guy next to us bellowed. He was probably ten years older than Horse, with just a hint of gray in his hair. A lot of the bikers seemed to wear beards, but his face was clean-shaven, and he wasn’t shy about checking me out. I didn’t get the impression that his appraisal was personal though. More like he was sizing me up, trying to judge me on some level I couldn’t understand.

Bikini girl showed up with a tray full of beers and shots, which she unloaded on a little table in front of us. The guy next to us handed a beer to Horse, who reached around me to take it in his left hand. The man offered me a beer next. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I looked to Horse.

“Have at it,” he told me.

“Damn, that didn’t take long,” said the other man, laughing. “Mousie knows her place, I take it?”

I stiffened, and Horse’s hand squeezed my thigh again in warning.

“She’s learning,” he said. “Gonna be interesting. You heard the news?”

“I heard something. This is her, I take it?” the man replied, glancing toward me. I chugged down almost half my beer, more than ready for a little liquid courage.

“Collateral,” Horse replied and his friend grunted. They ignored me as they started talking about people I didn’t know, so I let my eyes wander around the room, starting with the guy sitting next to us. He had tousled, deep-brown hair and greenish eyes. His cut had “President” written on it, along with a one-percenter patch and a few others I didn’t recognize. Picnic had a president patch too, but I’d never seen anything identifying Horse as an officer. The Reapers must be pretty powerful if a regular guy like Horse got this much respect from the president of another club. I took another long chug of my beer, surprised to discover I’d finished it. That seemed funny to me, and I had to catch myself before I burped.

What can I say? I’ve always been a lightweight.

I looked longingly toward the remaining beers on the table, thinking another would really hit the spot. Bikini girl reappeared, winding her way toward the couch. She leaned down low to take my empty, boobs hanging right in Horse’s line of sight, ass pointed at the other guy. That sort of pissed me off, but when I tried to glare at her she just offered a friendly wink and handed me another beer.

Not such a bad sort, I decided.

I glanced at Horse, catching his eye before I started drinking again. He nodded absently, fingers starting a slow slide back and forth across my thigh as the conversation continued. The guys ignored me for the most part as they shot the shit, talking bikes and business, using words that had to be code because the conversation didn’t make any sense to me at all. Occasionally other men walked up and took a chair for a while, then they’d drift away. Certain words and phrases jumped out at me as being potentially important, but I couldn’t put it all together. Respect. Something about a charity run for toys (which seemed totally out of sync with the criminal-biker-vibe hanging in the air). Meeting up with the Mexicans, whoever they were. Border patrol and “fucking homeland security”.

I tuned them out because there were far more interesting things to do. Drinking a third beer, for one. Watching the crowd. There had to be fifty or sixty people in the room. Most of the men wore Silver Bastards cuts, with big patches on the back that had a stylized picture of a man with a pickaxe, flames shooting out behind him. There were lots of women around too. Most of the women were dressed like me—slutty as hell—and they circulated through the crowd, handing out drinks, picking up empties and occasionally settling in to make out with one of the Silver Bastards. There was a lot of groping, and not limited to individual couples. The guys seemed to have a real thing for being double-teamed. I saw several girls disappear down the back hallway, giggling as men dragged them away.

Then the front door opened and a tall blonde woman with tasteful makeup and an air of authority walked in. She looked around for a minute, spotted us and cut straight through the crowd. She was different from the other women, anyone could see it. For one thing, she wore jeans that were tight enough to show her figure, but not painted on. She had on a black tank top with a Silver Bastards’ emblem on it, which displayed her rather well-developed cleavage perfectly. Her hair had been highlighted by a professional who knew his shit and she wore a black leather vest.

Most of the women circulating seemed to get their asses grabbed regularly, but nobody tried it on the blonde. Men moved out of her way, several of them calling out a welcome, but I didn’t catch a single one checking out her boobs or ass.

The president-guy sitting next to us stood up as she walked our way, a look coming over his face that could only be described as deep satisfaction. She ignored everyone else as she reached him. He pulled her close, one hand tangled in her hair and the other on her butt as he gave her a long kiss so intimate I felt embarrassed to watch them. He reached down with both hands now, urging her to wrap her legs around him as he lifted her high and nuzzled between her breasts. She laughed and smacked him. As he turned and set her back down I made out the patches on the back of her vest.

“Property of Boonie, Silver Bastards MC”.

Horse’s hand tightened on my thigh again, and I didn’t dare look at him. For the first time, I almost got what he’d been trying to tell me. This woman, Boonie’s property, fell into a whole different category from the rest of us girls, and it showed. Her man clearly thought she was the shit, and he wasn’t afraid to let everyone know it—even I could see the invisible aura of untouchability surrounding her.

So that’s what Horse had offered me…

His hand fell away from my thigh and he urged me to my feet. He stood and waited until the president and his blonde stopped making out, turning to face us.

“Darcy, this is Marie,” Horse said. She looked me up and down, eyes questioning.

“Hey, Marie,” she replied. “You’re new around here, I’m thinking.”

I glanced at Horse, unsure if I should be talking to her or not.

“Go with Darcy,” he told me. “She’ll take good care of you. Boonie and I need some privacy.”

I must have looked a little panicked, because he leaned over and whispered in my ear. “She’s Boonie’s old lady, she won’t let anything happen to you. You stick to her like shit on a blanket. Tell her why you’re with me, about your brother and the money. Got me?”

I agreed. Darcy offered me a soft smile, then leaned up for one more kiss from Boonie before gesturing me to follow her. Horse smacked my butt as I walked away, making me jump. I felt immediately exposed, men’s eyes falling on me speculatively as Darcy led me down the back hallway. We passed some bathrooms and seeing them made me aware of my full bladder.

“Can we make a pit stop?” I asked.

“Sure,” she replied, pushing open the door for me. I don’t know what I expected, some kind of setup with stalls and a couple of sinks. Instead I found a single, dingy room with a toilet and sink. She followed me in, which surprised me. I must’ve had a funny look on my face because she laughed softly. Of course, I usually hit the bathroom with my friends when we went out, but I didn’t even know this chick.

“Oh, sugar, we got no secrets here and privacy’s hard to find. What’s a girl like you doing with Horse?”

I stood there, uncertain whether to answer or pee first. I decided to multitask, pulling down my panties.

“I’m with him because my brother owes the club a lot of money,” I said, going as quickly as I could. I pulled up my panties and found her staring at me.

“You’re with him because your brother owes money?” she asked very carefully, crossing her arms over her chest. “Explain. Now.”

“Um, I guess my brother was working with the Reapers on something, I don’t know what,” I said, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. “They found out he was stealing from them. They decided to kill him, but Horse wanted to fuck me and so they gave him another shot to pay the money back. I’m the collateral. Something about paying in blood.”

She just looked at me for a minute, eyebrows raised, and I shuffled nervously, wondering if I’d said too much. Then her face softened.

“Oh you poor baby,” she said, reaching out and pulling me into her arms. I started telling her everything about me and Horse in a disjointed tumble of words. I didn’t know this woman, but it felt so good to talk about it. At some point I cried, and she just held on and rubbed my back, making soothing noises until I settled down into snuffles and hiccups. A woman’s voice called through the door, demanding that we get our asses out. Now. Darcy yelled back, “Go pee outside, you fucking skank!”

That startled me out of my little pity party. I pulled away, wiping my eyes, fingers dark with mascara. I’d piled on the makeup just like Horse’d asked. Wasn’t going to be easy to fix that.

“Um, how did you know she was a skank?” I asked, voice wavering. Darcy smiled at me encouragingly, holding my shoulders and looking down into my face with a grin.

“Darlin’, they’re all skanks,” she replied, smiling. “You and I are the only females in the entire place that aren’t human petri dishes. Old ladies aren’t into bullshit parties like this, and despite what the boys might pretend in public, a man who fucks around on his old lady at one is gonna discover just how cold things can get at home. We don’t tell them what to do. We just tell them what we’re gonna do and let them figure it out for themselves. The system works.”

I giggled a little bit at that, feeling better than I had since arriving.

“What I don’t get is why he brought you here,” she said, grabbing some paper towels and dabbing at my face. I turned toward the mirror, but she stopped me. “Trust me, babe, you don’t wanna see what you look like right now.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I don’t know why I’m here either. And I really don’t know what’s going on with me and Horse. For a while things were great. Well, great on and off.”

“So why are you ‘off’ at the moment?” she asked, biting her lip as she carefully wiped below my eye.”

“Well, I think I hurt his feelings,” I said. She stopped, giving me a look of patent disbelief.

“You hurt his feelings?”

“I told him I wouldn’t be his old lady for a million bucks. By text.”

“Shit. That’s a big deal, kid.”

I nodded.

“He told me it was, but I blew him off when he tried to explain. He stopped talking to me and I got drunk and sent him a bunch of texts and that’s when things really fell apart. Then I found the Reapers holding a gun to my brother’s head and Horse told me they’d give Jeff another chance if I came with him, so I did.”

Amazingly, Darcy didn’t accuse me of making it all up or some other normal, reasonable reaction to my crazy story.

“Okay, you can look now,” she said. I was impressed with what she’d accomplished. My eyes were smudged from the mascara but she’d blended it so they looked more smoky than scary. Darcy put her hands on my shoulders, meeting my gaze in the mirror as she stood behind me.

“Horse is a good man,” she said, and I didn’t doubt her sincerity. “But he’s clearly fucked in the head. This is not good shit.”

“Tell me about it,” I replied. “He told me that if I didn’t want to be an old lady he wouldn’t treat me like one. I apologized for the texts I sent but I don’t think it mattered.”

She gave a little laugh then shook her head.

“Sounds like you’re right—you bruised his precious little man feelings. But he can’t just acknowledge that, they never do.”

I smiled back at her, but it died as I thought about Jeff.

“What about my brother?” I asked. “Got any insight into that one?”

She sobered and shook her head.

“He’s in deep shit. Wish I could tell you something else, but the Reapers don’t fuck around when it comes to their rep. They lose that, we’re all at war. Lotta clubs just waiting to step in and take over this territory.”

“That’s what Horse said.”

“Here’s a piece of advice, whether you want it or not. Your brother’s a dead man unless he makes things right with the club. Horse can’t change that and you can’t either. Sounds like you’re buying him some time, but don’t think for a minute that they won’t follow through if he doesn’t pay them. So remember—it’s not your fault if things don’t go well for him.”

“But it is,” I replied. “I’m the only reason he’s still alive. Horse told me I can leave any time, but if I do, that’s it for Jeff.”

“So don’t leave,” she replied. “But don’t fool yourself either. This isn’t about you. Now we’re going back out, so put on your game face. Horse brought you for a reason, probably to scare the crap out of every guy here who’s got a sister. They see you, they won’t think Jeff is getting off easy. I know Horse well enough to know this isn’t his usual thing. I doubt you’ll get dragged out like this again unless your brother tries to make trouble. Think he will?”

“He’s a smart guy, but he wasn’t smart enough not to steal from the Reapers,” I said, shrugging. “I guess it could go either way. Something’s gone really wrong with him.”

Someone pounded on the door again. Darcy walked over, opened it wide and glared at the drunken girl standing outside. She leaned over and vomited on the floor.

“Fuckin’ hate parties like this,” Darcy muttered, grabbing my arm and carefully stepping over the puddle. I hopped along with her as she dragged me down the length of the hall into a room with a giant table. Horse and Boonie sat studying some papers.

“You boys need more time?”

Horse leaned back, eyeing me as Boonie broke into a sly smile.

“Nope,” he said, standing and walking toward Darcy. “Missed you, babe. I hate it when you’re out of town. Next time make your mom go by herself, okay?”

Darcy murmured some reply I couldn’t make out and they fell into another clinch even more intense than the first. Boonie lifted her and set her butt on the table. That appeared to be our cue to leave, because Horse came over and took my hand, drawing me back out into the hallway.