Reaper's Property

Chapter Sixteen

“Seriously, you would not believe how big it is,” I slurred, leaning forward and holding out my hands for scale.

“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.”

She pushed me toward the rooms. I crossed the floor to the hallway, feeling awkward as all get out. Dark doors lined the both sides of the hall, all of them closed. I had no idea what I’d find inside and exploring on my own felt weird. I decided to wait for Maggs. Then Max strolled up, offering me that same friendly smile he’d worn at the bar.

“You lost?” he asked. I shook my head.

“Not so much lost as a little out of my depth,” I admitted. “I guess Cookie’s gonna have us film her dancing for Bagger. She said to find a room, but I’m afraid to just start opening doors.”

“No prob,” he said, shrugging casually, although his eyes held a pleased gleam. “Follow me.”

Something felt off. My instincts said I shouldn’t follow him, but I couldn’t think of a reason not to and I was still pretty drunk. My drunken instincts weren’t so hot—Gary’d asked me to marry him after I’d just killed a six-pack.

When Max pointed me toward the last door on the right side of the hall, which had a little green light glowing above it, I hesitantly walked over and pushed it open. It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the darkness and soft red light. Then I saw Horse sitting on a black leather couch against the wall, arms stretched out along the back. His shirt was off and an almost-naked, bleached-blonde woman straddled him. Her hips writhed against his and when she turned to look at us, I saw she had giant, obviously fake boobs. She wore a blue, sparkly G-string and nothing else.

Horse met my wide, frozen eyes and glared.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Thought this was ladies’ night.”

“Nothing,” I whispered, stepping back and very carefully shutting the door. I felt brittle, fragile, like I was going to break apart into a thousand pieces. I don’t know why. It wasn’t like we had a real relationship. I didn’t own him. But seeing him with another woman—that hurt me deep down inside. I bumped into Max, who caught my arms and steadied me. I looked up at him, devastated, and he wore an expression I couldn’t begin to describe.

“Did you know he was in there?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Max replied. His easy response, completely unapologetic, threw me.

“You set me up?” I whispered. “Why?”

“Because you’re living in a fucking dream world and the girls were filling your head with shit. I can be a dick, but not as big a dick as he’s being. Thought you had a right to know.”

I tried to think. Unfortunately, everything was spinning around me.

“I didn’t do it to hurt you, Marie,” Max said, pulling me in for a rough hug. I stiffened, then relaxed into him, needing the comfort. He rubbed my hair, combing it with his fingers.

“You’re a sweet kid and you’re in a really fucked-up situation,” he said, not unkindly. “You need to keep your head straight. Horse is not your old man, you’re not going to live happily ever after with him and your brother isn’t going to come through for you. The faster you figure that out, the better your life is going to be. That’s the truth.”

I pulled away from Max and glanced back at the door, willing Horse to open it, to come out and explain that this was all just some sort of mistake. He didn’t. The green light taunted me.

“You want a ride home?” Max asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Okay.”

He took my arm and went to the fire door, quickly punching a code into a keypad on the side. A tiny red light blinked green and he pushed through the door. I followed him across the parking lot to his bike. My phone started vibrating and I looked down to see Horse’s name on the screen.

I turned it off.

The ride seemed to last forever, and I was pretty much sober by the time we reached the house. Ariel ran out to greet us, smiling his big puppy grin, but I didn’t pet him so he whined and crawled under the porch. Max surprised me when he left his bike and followed me into the house. I guess I expected him to just drop me off or something. It felt strange and awkward with him there, and I wished I could be alone.

“You want a drink?” I asked, hoping he’d say no.

“Yeah, grab me a beer,” he replied, pulling out his phone. I left him fiddling with it while I found a beer for him and a glass of water for myself. As I came back down the hall he met me halfway, taking the drinks and walking into the dining room. He set them on the pool table and cocked his head to the side, studying me again.

“Why do you do that?” I asked.

“Do what?”

“Look at me like that?”

“Trying to decide what the fuck Horse is thinking,” he replied. “You don’t need to be with him, Marie. This is fucked up. You should let me help you.”

“Help me how?”

Instead of answering, he leaned down and threw me over his shoulder. I shrieked, hitting him on the back and kicking. Max ignored my struggles, carrying me back into the living room and throwing me down on to the couch. I hit hard and lost my breath. Before I could recover he was on me, thrusting a knee between my legs, covering my mouth with his. I struggled against him, but I shouldn’t have bothered. Way too strong for me. His legs pinned me, pelvis grinding into mine as his arms wrestled my own into the couch. His kiss wasn’t sensual, just a brutal attack. No tongue, no seduction. Just a crushing of his lips against my mouth. I seriously couldn’t breathe and my vision started going dark.

“Oh no fucking way. You’re a dead man.”

I heard Horse’s angry voice and felt a surge of hope. Then Max flew off me so hard I almost rolled off the couch. Horse threw him across the room into the wall, missing the TV by about six inches. I screamed as Horse leapt after him, hammering him with his fists. Max writhed under the onslaught, but he started laughing, the sound horrible and dark and oddly punctuated by the blows slamming his body. A loud, clicking noise cut through his laughter and I looked up to find Picnic aiming a gun at the two men.

Horse didn’t pause.

“Horse!” Picnic said. “Drop him or I’ll shoot you.”

Horse gave Max one last, vicious punch to the gut before he stepped back, chest heaving. Max rose to his feet unsteadily, grinning at Horse in a way that was truly unbalanced. Now I got the whole “Mad Max” thing…

“You got a problem, brother?” Max asked as he wiped the blood streaming from his nose with the back of his hand. “Your bitch didn’t seem to think so. Practically jumped into my arms at the Line. I’ll admit she’s a sweet cunt, but is she really worth fighting over?”

“Shut your mouth,” Picnic said, stepping forward. “You don’t talk to a brother that way. And you don’t fuck around with a fellow Reaper’s woman. We’ll deal with this at the armory tomorrow. You got that?”

Max laughed again. Then he turned to me and stuck two of his fingers in a “v” in front of his mouth, flicking his tongue between them at me.

“You asshole!” I yelled, filled with sudden rage. “You fucking asshole, you get out of here! Get the fuck out of here and don’t fucking come back or I’ll fucking shoot you myself!”

All three guys froze, looking at me in surprise.

I sneered back at them, disgusted.

“What, surprised that the bone you’re fighting over can talk? Well fuck all of you!”

With that I turned and stomped up the stairs to my room, slamming the door behind me. Moments later bikes roared to life outside. I paced my room for a minute, furious and full of energy, then threw my door open and headed back downstairs.

I had a few more things I wanted to get off my chest.

I found Horse standing in the center of the living room, running a hand through his hair, scowling at the splatters of blood staining his floor. He turned toward me, and we glared at each other across the room, neither of us giving an inch. I was still a little drunk, but I’d had it. Time to lay things out with Horse. I opened my mouth to let him have it, but he started in first.

“Who the fuck you do think you are, showing up at the Line like that?” he demanded. “And why did Max have his tongue down your throat?”

Oh, that really pissed me off.

“You don’t get to talk about tongues down throats, asshole,” I hissed. “And for your information, I was at the Line because your sister took me there. I guess it didn’t occur to her that you’d be screwing some slut in the back room!”

“I wasn’t screwing anyone. It was a lap dance. No big deal,” he said, eyes narrowing on me.

“So sorry I interrupted you before you got to the happy ending!” I yelled. I didn’t think I’d ever been this angry before in my life. The edges of my vision actually turned red. I felt like throwing things at him, and I glanced around, trying to find something with a good heft. Horse stalked over, looming over me as he yelled in my face, backing me toward the wall.

“Why the fuck shouldn’t I have a happy ending? It’s not like I have an old lady to worry about! No, not me!” he declared, throwing his arms wide, speaking to the room at large. “I don’t have an old lady, now do I? Nope, because you’re too fucking good to wear my patch, now aren’t you? What haven’t I done for you, Marie? I kept your brother alive. Didn’t come cheap, babe, you got no clue how pricey your ass is. And tonight? It’s not like you were around to take care of me, was it? We had plans and you blew me off. You can’t have it both ways, Marie. Either we’re together or we’re not, but if we’re not don’t expect me to sit around with my thumb up my ass while you’re out partying. And this bullshit with Max? In my own home? I should throw your ass out and call the hit on your brother myself. You can go fuck yourself, Marie. Seriously. I’m done with you.”

I snarled at him. How dare he play victim?

“Max was trying to rape me,” I said, the words cold and hard. “And the only reason I caught a ride home with him was because you were too busy letting some whore grind her skanky crotch against you to notice. I go out one night without you and you can’t keep it in your pants?”

“Why should I?” he demanded. He shifted his weight forward as he caught my hands, twisting them behind my back and forcing me against him. A sexual thrill ran through me, all mixed up with my anger and the crazy rush of adrenaline making my heart race. I felt his cock, hard and ready, and smelled the mixture of sweat and motor oil that always seemed to follow him. My pussy was a swollen, hot well of need and my panties were sopping. I wanted to bite him and lick him and kick him in the nuts all at the same time.

“Cookie hasn’t seen her man in months, but when she goes out, she wears his patch,” Horse snarled. “She’s proud to be his old lady. You want me to keep it in my pants, you wear my patch.”

Horse thrust his hips against me for emphasis and I laughed at him. Then I lunged forward and caught his lip in my teeth, biting, and not a little love nip. He dropped me with a shout and I took off up the stairs. He tore after me, catching the back of my shirt as I reached the top, pulling me down three steps and trapping me under his body on my stomach. One hand tangled in my hair, holding my head tight as the other ripped open my fly and jerked my jeans down around my knees, pinning them together. I moaned as he fumbled to free his cock, pushing my ass back at him, feeling my juices run down my leg because I wanted him inside me so badly.

Horse’s dick ripped through me and I screamed.

What happened next was not gentle and nice and sweet and romantic. Horse tore into me, fucking me so hard I’m surprised nobody got hurt. His hand in my hair hurt, but his cock filled me exactly how I needed it. I don’t know how long it lasted. I’m not even sure how many times I came. I just know that every orgasm I took felt like a victory over him, and when he finally blew into me—hot seed shooting deep into my womb—he shouted and pulled my hair and that turned me on like nothing I’ve ever experienced before in my life.

Shit…

I collapsed down on the stairs, cradling my face in my arms as Horse’s cock slowly softened inside me. His harsh, panting breaths echoed in my ears. Then he pulled out, turning and sitting down on the steps below me. I rolled over and looked up at the ceiling.

“This is really fucked up,” he said, sounded stunned. I knew the feeling. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” I replied, running a hand through my hair. I needed to pull up my pants, but it took everything I had not to melt into an exhausted puddle. “I’m fine. I know this is sick, but that was incredible. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

“Yeah.”

We sat there for I don’t know how long. My heart rate slowed and I started to notice things, like the rough texture of the carpet under my ass and the risers cutting into my back. And how wet I was. Ewww…

“I think I’m dripping on the rug,” I murmured. Horse gave a short bark of laughter. I looked at him and the complete and utter absurdity of our situation hit me. I couldn’t help myself, a little hysterical giggle started deep down in my chest. I twisted my mouth, trying to keep it in, but it broke free. I laughed harder and harder, my body shaking as Horse watched me like I’d lost my mind. Maybe I had.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, tears building up in my eyes. “But this is beyond crazy. What’s wrong with us? Where do we go from here?”

Horse shook his head, shrugging.

“Fuck if I know,” he admitted, and for once he didn’t bother putting on a front. “This is a whole new level of dysfunction for me, and that’s saying something. I don’t want to figure this out tonight. I just want to go to bed and I want you with me. Is that okay? Just for tonight? Can I hold you?”

I nodded.

“Yeah. Let’s finish fighting tomorrow. I’m exhausted.”

We stumbled up the stairs and he took my hand, pulling me into his room for the first time. I was too tired to look around. I just pulled off my clothes and fell into the bed. Horse stripped down and climbed in next to me, tucking me into his side. Like always, it made me feel safe.

How fucked up is that?

I woke up to find Horse lying next to me, watching as he traced his fingers across my face. He looked thoughtful and tired.

“I’m not sure ladies’ night was such a hot idea,” I whispered.

“I’m a dick,” he replied, closing his eyes, face pained. “I’m an asshole and a dick and I shouldn’t have been in that room at the Line. I did it because I was pissed you went out and I wanted to get back at you, which was bullshit. I’m sorry.”

I looked away, trying not to think of him half naked with that girl, big boobs rubbing all over him. I hated the idea of them together but I also had to be honest with myself. I’d refused an exclusive relationship with him when he offered, and then I insulted him on top of it. Sure, he’d kidnapped me in return…and then offered to pay for my college.

Did that make us even or just exceptionally fucked up?

I really shouldn’t have skipped biker babe orientation, I mused. Next time I’d definitely attend. A little laugh sneaked out and Horse flopped back, groaning.

“I’m fucked,” he said.

“Let’s talk this through,” I said, rolling over. Now it was my turn to lean up and look down at him. “We’re not in an exclusive relationship, or at least not one we agreed to together. I’m not even sure we’re in a relationship at all. I don’t know if I have the right to be so pissed at you, but I hated seeing you with that bitch. You have no idea how much I hated it. I didn’t expect that. And I am definitely pissed off about it. And I’m pissed off about Max too.”

“Do you want the right to be pissed at me, seeing as you’re so good at it?” he asked, mouth quirking. The humor didn’t quite reach his eyes. He took a deep breath, as if bracing himself. “What if we started over? Do you think you could give me another chance?”

“Do you actually think we could?” I replied. There were so many things between us, so many complicated feelings that I didn’t know how to even begin dealing with them. “Or is it too late? There’s a lot of baggage here. I mean, even if we let all the things between us go, there’s still Jeff.”

“I don’t want to be your enemy,” he said firmly. “I want to be your man. You make me feel crazy things, Marie, and I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want trouble for Jeff either, but I’ve done everything I can to help him. I can’t do any more, it’s up to him now. I hope you believe that.”

He dropped his hand down along the length of my body, catching my leg and pulling it up and over his hip. His cock brushed my center and I shivered, like always. His gaze caught mine, full of intensity. “I want you to be my old lady, babe. That’s all I have to offer. I’m a Reaper, and this is my world. You wear my patch, you be my woman and I’ll be your man. We take the good times together and fight through the bad times. No games. That’s everything I’ve got and it’s all yours if you’ll take it.”

I sighed, trying to think. I wanted it—I wanted him. I still didn’t like the whole property thing. But I’d seen Darcy and Dancer and Cookie in action—they weren’t helpless victims and what they had with their men might be different, but it was good. Much better than I’d had with Gary—and that was another whole load of baggage. Horse would be taking on a woman who was still married to another man, a woman with no assets and no skills.

I guess it just came down to a leap of faith.

“I want to try,” I said slowly, holding his gaze. “If we do it, I think we need to give each other a fresh start. Only look forward, leave all the past behind us. Let go of the anger. Otherwise we could spend the next year fighting over things we can’t change.”

“That works for me,” he replied, face still grave. “But I need to know—are you ready to wear my patch? That’s how it works in the club, babe, and there’s no leaving the club. If you can’t live with that, I’ll find another place for you to stay until this shit with your brother resolves. It’ll kill me, but I’ll do it. I’m ready to let you go if that’s what you need. No strings.”

“I want to be with you,” I said, reaching down to run my fingers along the length of his rapidly hardening cock. I moved my mouth toward his, letting my lips hover over his. “I’ll be your old lady and I’ll wear your patch. But if you ever let some bitch shove her tits in your face again, I’ll shoot you myself.”

At that, I wrapped my fingers around his dick and squeezed a little too tight for comfort.

“Noted,” Horse said, smiling against my mouth. “You got a gun?”

I laughed, shaking my head, brushing my lips against his.

“Okay, we’ll take care of that today,” he said, nuzzling my mouth. “Gonna fuck you first though. Honest to God, you wouldn’t believe the checklist I’ve got in my head for us to work through.”

Horse wasn’t kidding about the checklist. We got a good start on it, but after a couple hours I needed a break for food. We ate breakfast together and cleaned up, basking in each other’s presence.

Then he took me out to the barn and I learned Horse wasn’t kidding about the gun either.

“Okay, hold it straight like I showed you. Left hand down low to brace your right. Keep your finger off the trigger until you line up the sights. Good. Now put your finger on the trigger and pull back until it just stops. Double-check your aim and fire.”

I shot the little semi-automatic .22 pistol at the target pinned against a hay bale three times, then pulled my finger off the trigger like he’d taught me and pointed the gun at the ground.

“You like it?” Horse asked, looking pleased with himself. He’d presented me with the pistol like it was a diamond ring or something. Probably best not to think about that too much.

“It kicks ass,” I said, because it did. Firing it made me feel sort of powerful and tough. “But are you sure it’s big enough? Those are really tiny little bullets, Horse. If I’m gonna be a badass biker chick, shouldn’t I have a bigger gun?”

“A .22 was big enough to kill Bobby Kennedy,” he replied, and I stopped smiling and raised my brows.

“Damn.”

“No shit. Honestly, it’s about accuracy, not size, babe.”

“Did I seriously just hear you, Marcus “Horse” McDonnell, tell me it’s not about size?”

“Yeah,” he said, ignoring my little jab. “It’s true it doesn’t have the stopping power that a bigger gun does, but I’d be more afraid of a woman with a .22 who really knows how to shoot than a man with a .45 he bought because his dick’s too small. It’s not like the movies, Marie. A handgun isn’t gonna stop someone in his tracks unless you hit something important, not even a big handgun. You need a shotgun for that. It’s just physics.”

“So even this little thing could kill someone,” I asked, looking at the pistol with new respect. I handed it to him very carefully. “It just looks like a TV prop or something, you know?”

“No shit,” he replied. “I want you to practice with it, really get used to it. We’ll do it every day. Just remember, you ever point this at a person, you shoot it right at his heart and you shoot to kill. Never point a gun unless you’re ready to end a life. And don’t fool yourself that you can shoot them in the foot or some such shit. If it’s bad enough to shoot, it’s bad enough to kill. And nobody’s that good a shot anyway.”

“What about that night at the party?” I asked, my voice soft.

“What about it?” he asked, grabbing another, larger pistol out of his bag and sliding in the magazine with a click.

“You pointed a gun at that man. You didn’t kill him, you shot next to him. But you could have killed him.”

“Yep, I could’ve,” he said. “I got real lucky that night because when he shot near you, he didn’t hit you. Then he got lucky, because I put him in the same situation and he didn’t get hit either. The difference is, he chose to pull his gun on a bunch of innocent women at a party. Then he chose to pull the trigger three times. No excuse for that. He deserved more than he got.”

“You’re scary sometimes, you understand that, right?”

Horse grinned at me, leaning over to kiss my nose.

“Try the .38, little Miss I-don’t-know-if-my-gun-is-big-enough. It’s what I like to carry, big enough to do some damage but small enough to be discreet.”

I picked it up. This one was heavier and my hand shook just a little as I aimed it. I lined up the sights, braced my body with one foot back and pulled the trigger. The pistol bucked and while I didn’t lose control, I didn’t like how it felt either. The gun seemed kind of wild to me, and I decided an even larger one would probably knock me on my ass.

“I see what you mean,” I said. “That one’s harder to hold.”

“Yup,” he said. “And they have more kick as you go up. I’d rather see you with a gun that feels comfortable. Otherwise you might hesitate to use it when you need it. It’s your choice and if I don’t have what you want, we’ll go find it.”

“I want to try the .38 one more time,” I said. He nodded, and I took my stance. This time when I shot, the shell casing flew back and hit my face, bouncing down my neck and into my cleavage.

“Holy shit!” I yelled, dropping the gun and jumping round, trying to shake the hot metal out of my clothing. It slid around, burning me until I managed to pull my bra away from my body and the shell casing fell to the ground.

“Jesus, Marie!” Horse said, picking up the gun. “You drop a gun like that it might go off. You could’ve killed yourself!”

I stood and looked at him, breathing hard.

“The casing burned me,” I said, my voice faint.

“Honey, that sucks, but it’ll hurt a lot more if you shoot yourself. Or me. If you’re gonna shoot me, I want to do something to earn it first. Seems only fair.”

“I think I’ll stick with the .22,” I said, biting my lip. He set down the gun and then shook his head, smiling at me.

“You’re not boring, you know that?”

“But you like that about me, right?” I asked hopefully.

“Yeah, I like it,” he replied, leaning down to kiss me. “Now practice loading your gun so you can shoot it some more. If you ever need it, I want it to be more than a paperweight.”

“Do you seriously think I’ll need a gun? Is life as an old lady really that rough?”

He shook his head.

“Probably not,” he replied. “No more than life is rough for any woman, depending on her circumstances. It’s an ugly world. But if you know how to use one, and you take it seriously, it’s not going to hurt you. You don’t and you need it? I couldn’t live with that, Marie. Shit, you needed it last night.”

That sobered me.

“What about Max?” I asked. “What happens with him?”

“That’s club business,” he replied. “You don’t ask—you trust me to take care of it. He’ll be punished and he definitely won’t bother you again. If he does, I’ll kill him.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” I whispered. “You’d really kill him?”

“He fucks with you, he’s dead. That’s the way it is. Enough questions—now show me how you load your gun, babe. We’re gonna practice every day until you’re comfortable with it, can do it without thinking. This gun is part of you now. You got me?”

“I got you.”

“Oh baby, you have no idea,” he replied ruefully, brushing back my hair and tucking it behind my ear. “No idea at all. Now let me watch you shoot. Chicks with guns are hot.”