Reaper's Stand
Page 41
I bit back a smile, looking up at him through my lashes.
“She sounds like she was a hell of a woman.”
“She was. But she’s dead, and you’re a hell of a woman, too, London. Come back home with me.”
“I’ll come to visit,” I said, holding his gaze. “Sleepovers, how does that sound? We can get to know each other, do this the right way. We already did everything wrong once, but if what we have is real, me having my own place won’t kill it. When we’re ready, we can talk about moving in together.”
His arms stayed crossed, but he nodded.
“I’ll give you the summer,” he said slowly. “After that all bets are off.”
Smiling, I reached my arms up around his neck and tugged his head down to mine for a kiss. He let me, but he didn’t respond at first. I pulled back.
“Really, Reese? Pouting?”
He frowned.
“When you say it like that, it sounds so juvenile.”
I didn’t respond.
“Fuck,” he muttered, then wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in tight. His lips caught mine and I opened for him. Need and desire flared to life, and I wanted more than his tongue inside. Good thing we’d talked before we started making out, I realized. Otherwise I’d have done whatever he asked, because kissing Reese was that good. By the time Horse stepped into the kitchen and cleared his throat, Reese had me up against the wall, both legs wrapped tight around his waist.
“Your daughter called,” Horse announced. “She’s ready for you to come and visit. Said not to forget London. Should I call her back and say you’re too busy fuckin’ in the kitchen?”
Reese froze, groaning as I started to giggle. Then he leaned his forehead against mine, eyes closed.
“Children,” he muttered. “Shit for timing. Always.”
He lowered me and I straightened my clothing. Horse didn’t look away or give us even a hint of privacy. Nope. He just stood there smirking like a total creeper.
“You like to watch?” I asked him.
“Fuck yeah, I like to watch. Doesn’t everyone?”
Reese glared at him, which seemed to make him smirk even harder.
“Okay, let’s go see Em,” I said, tugging at Reese’s hand. “Just ’cause she’s a big girl doesn’t mean she doesn’t need her daddy.”
Reese rolled his eyes, then gave me a strange, almost sheepish smile.
“Thank fuck for that.”
“Hi, Dad,” Em said softly when we walked into her hospital room. She looked pale and weak, but her eyes were bright and she still managed to give Reese a smile.
Hunter stood next to her, his eyes watchful and concerned. He was still the badass biker I’d first met in Coeur d’Alene, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t devoted to his girl. He’d do anything for Reese’s daughter—I saw it written all over his face.
I decided I liked him, despite the fact that he’d locked me in a storage room.
“Hey, baby,” Reese said, dropping my hand as we crossed over to her bed, which was by the window. Em didn’t have a roommate. I wondered if that was because she’d gotten lucky, or if Hunter had scared the nurses into giving her space.
Probably best not to ask.
Reese leaned over and kissed her forehead, then sat down on the bed next to her. I stood beside him, which should’ve felt awkward but it somehow didn’t.
I was just happy to see Em alive and well.
“So I hear you saved my ass,” Em said to me, her eyes full of gratitude. Not a hint of blame or wariness—she obviously had no idea I’d been a prisoner when I discovered her bleeding. Guess that was on a need-to-know basis, something I found very comforting. I’d just as soon she didn’t find out I’d tried to kill her dad. I had a feeling she’d hold a wicked grudge.
“I did my best,” I said quietly. “You scared me—thought we might lose you. How are you feeling now?”
“Weak,” she replied. “Sad. They told me it was a girl. It’s strange … I was kind of scared when I saw the positive pregnancy test, but I loved her. I wanted her. I can’t believe she’s gone.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Em nodded, a hint of red around her eyes. I glanced up at Hunter, seeing shadows written in his face. They’d obviously both wanted her. I hoped they’d get another chance … Ectopic pregnancies could do a lot of damage.
“You tired, little girl?” Reese asked, reaching out to catch Em’s hand. “You want some rest? We can go wait outside.”
“No,” she said, squeezing his fingers. “I’m just glad you’re here.”
“Hello, Reese,” a new voice said, and I looked up to see a girl standing in the door frame. This had to be Kit, the daughter I hadn’t met yet. I recognized her from her pictures, although they’d all been taken before she’d adopted her current style. She looked like a Betty Page pinup, all vintage clothes, sculpted black hair, red lipstick, and tough-girl attitude.
Like Em, she was stunning, but in a completely different way.
Reese stood and walked toward her. She flung herself into his arms, squeezing him tight as he lifted her up for a hug. He’d told me she liked to pick fights with him—and I had a feeling calling him by his first name was part of that dynamic … But clearly when shit hit the fan, the Hayes family stood together. After long seconds he let her slide back down to the ground and she stood back, smiling at him with a hint of vulnerability in her face.
Then her eyes found me, and they narrowed.
“This her?” she asked, her voice sharp. Em sighed heavily and Hunter rolled his eyes. Time to step in and diffuse, I decided.
“I’m London Armstrong,” I said in a clear, friendly voice as I walked over and held out my hand. “You must be Kit. I’ve seen so many of your pictures, but none of them are recent. I love your look—very classic.”
She sniffed, signaling clearly that it would take more than flattery to win her over. Alrighty, then. I’d try another tactic.
“Reese, would you like me to go and get coffee for everyone?” I asked. “Let you have some family time together?”
He raised a brow, but Kit looked triumphant. Clearly she thought she’d scared me. Not the case, but I wasn’t looking to butt heads with her. Em was her sister and Reese was her dad—this was about them, not me. I saw right through this girl. Under the belligerence was an undercurrent of fear and insecurity. She needed to know I wasn’t here to take her father away from her, and the best way to communicate that was with space.
They could have their moment without me.
“I’ll help you,” Hunter said suddenly. I nodded, surprised. Up to this point, I would’ve bet a hundred bucks that he wouldn’t be leaving this room for anything.
Interesting.
He followed me into the hallway. “Cafeteria’s this way.”
We started walking, falling comfortably silent. I had no idea why he’d come with me, but if I needed to know, he’d say something. I felt like my role here was to support, not question.
“They should have time together,” he said finally. “They’re tight, but Kit and Reese love to fight. Like two alley cats. Us being in there just gives ’em one more thing to fight about, and Em doesn’t need that.”
I laughed, shaking my head as it fell into place.
“They’re not the easiest of families, are they?”
“You got no fuckin’ idea.”
We bought the coffee and carried it back slowly, but despite our best efforts the errand only took about twenty-five minutes. I knocked on the door and pushed it open carefully. Em lay back in the bed, Kit cuddled up next to her on top of the covers. Reese sat between them and the window, leaning back in his chair casually. He rested one ankle across his knee, watching over his girls as they whispered quietly to each other.
Then he looked up at me and smiled, pale blue eyes creased with warmth, obvious pride written all over his face.
“C’mon in,” he said.
I glanced at Kit, but she ignored me. Em winked, patting the side of the bed. I walked over and sat down awkwardly in the tiny sliver of space, wondering what the future held for me with this family.
Only one way to find out.
“Who wants coffee?”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
ONE MONTH LATER
LONDON
I leaned forward into the bathroom mirror, carefully brushing mascara over my pale lashes. Outside the bathroom door I could hear Mellie and Jessica arguing about something—the cabin was only about a thousand square feet and I was very, very happy that Melanie would be moving into student housing in a few weeks.
Wasn’t sure how much more of this I could take.
Loud music started blaring as I brushed my hair, changing abruptly to rap as I smoothed on lipstick. That would be Jessica taking control of the stereo.
It switched back again and I realized a full-on musical battle royale was starting outside the tiny bathroom. Taking one more quick look at myself—not perfect, but I’d do—I stepped out, prepared to start yelling. Before I could, the music stopped completely. Both girls stood in the living room, glaring at each other. Melanie had started standing up to Jessica in recent weeks, something I’d always wished she would do. Now I regretted that wish because I lived in a war zone.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” Jessica growled. I took a deep breath, prepared to tell her off. Melanie beat me to it.
“Don’t talk to me like that.”
“I will if it’s true. I saw that letter. He’s just another pussy-chasing asshole, and writing to him in jail is desperate and pathetic. You’re smarter than me, so why don’t you act like it?”
Mellie’s mouth dropped and so did mine.
Then the doorbell rang.
Melanie stomped past me toward their shared room, leaving Jessica standing in the center of the living room, eyes bright with fury. The bell rang again and I decided they were big girls who could figure this out on their own. Grabbing my backpack, I walked over to the door and opened it.
Then I smiled because everything was okay again.
Reese was here.
REESE
Christ, but she was gorgeous.
I took London’s hand and tugged her out onto the porch for my kiss, because I didn’t feel like dealing with whatever girl drama was brewing in the cabin. And there was major drama brewing—after raising Em and Kit, I could fuckin’ smell that shit in the air.
Fortunately, the sweet softness of London’s lips more than made up for the girls and their games. My hands found her ass, lifting her up and into my body. As always, my cock was as happy to see her as the rest of me.
Rap music blasted out through the window, all but knocking us off the porch. Just as fast it turned off again.
That’s when the screeching started.
“We have to get out of here,” I growled, dragging London toward my fully loaded bike. Being the clever woman she was, she didn’t argue. Let the girls kill each other—this was our weekend, and they weren’t gonna fuck it up for us.
Five minutes later we were pulling off the road and onto the highway, heading north toward the Canadian border. Over the past month London had gotten more comfortable riding with me, which was great for the most part … Although I sort of missed the way she used to cling to me like her life depended on it. Now she felt comfortable enough to raise her hands, weaving and dancing them through the air as we flew down the road.
Things had been fucked up and tense for a while when we’d gotten back. Some of it between me and her, but mostly just getting shit settled with the club. Painter and Puck were facing jail time no matter how you looked at it, and of the three brothers lost, one had been from the Moscow chapter, ninety miles south of Coeur d’Alene. He was a good man, and I’d known him more than a decade. London had come down with me for the funeral. Our relationship might be new, but she’d earned no small amount of respect when she killed that Medina fuck back at the warehouse.
She’d handled herself well at the memorial, too, and afterward more than one brother asked me why she wasn’t my old lady already.
Hard question to answer.
This weekend wasn’t about answering questions, though. It wasn’t about the club, the girls or anything to do with the cartel. Nope, this was about camping out, spending time together, maybe gettin’ my girl drunk and takin’ advantage of her. Perfect.
It was still early by the time we reached my favorite campsite up on the Pack River. Calling it a river was a bit of an exaggeration, at least this time of year. The Pack was fed by snowmelt, and by late summer it wasn’t much more than a foot deep in any given spot. It meandered through a wooded valley, the central channel running across a wide bed of rounded rocks, small sand banks, and waterfalls two or three feet high at most.
Our campsite wasn’t anything particularly special—tucked away off a dirt road, just a little clearing in the trees with a fire pit next to the river. I’d been coming here since I was a kid.
Had to be one of the most gorgeous places on earth. Couldn’t wait to share it with London.
I set up the fire while she rolled out the sleeping bags. Still too early to light it, which was fine because I had other things I wanted to do. And no, I’m not talking about fuckin’ her, although that was on the list, too.
“You ready for some fun?” I asked, and she smiled back at me.
“What did you have in mind?”
“When’s the last time you shot a Super Soaker?”
She stared at me blankly.
“Water gun, sweetheart. Plastic? Pump it up, water sprays out?”
“She sounds like she was a hell of a woman.”
“She was. But she’s dead, and you’re a hell of a woman, too, London. Come back home with me.”
“I’ll come to visit,” I said, holding his gaze. “Sleepovers, how does that sound? We can get to know each other, do this the right way. We already did everything wrong once, but if what we have is real, me having my own place won’t kill it. When we’re ready, we can talk about moving in together.”
His arms stayed crossed, but he nodded.
“I’ll give you the summer,” he said slowly. “After that all bets are off.”
Smiling, I reached my arms up around his neck and tugged his head down to mine for a kiss. He let me, but he didn’t respond at first. I pulled back.
“Really, Reese? Pouting?”
He frowned.
“When you say it like that, it sounds so juvenile.”
I didn’t respond.
“Fuck,” he muttered, then wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in tight. His lips caught mine and I opened for him. Need and desire flared to life, and I wanted more than his tongue inside. Good thing we’d talked before we started making out, I realized. Otherwise I’d have done whatever he asked, because kissing Reese was that good. By the time Horse stepped into the kitchen and cleared his throat, Reese had me up against the wall, both legs wrapped tight around his waist.
“Your daughter called,” Horse announced. “She’s ready for you to come and visit. Said not to forget London. Should I call her back and say you’re too busy fuckin’ in the kitchen?”
Reese froze, groaning as I started to giggle. Then he leaned his forehead against mine, eyes closed.
“Children,” he muttered. “Shit for timing. Always.”
He lowered me and I straightened my clothing. Horse didn’t look away or give us even a hint of privacy. Nope. He just stood there smirking like a total creeper.
“You like to watch?” I asked him.
“Fuck yeah, I like to watch. Doesn’t everyone?”
Reese glared at him, which seemed to make him smirk even harder.
“Okay, let’s go see Em,” I said, tugging at Reese’s hand. “Just ’cause she’s a big girl doesn’t mean she doesn’t need her daddy.”
Reese rolled his eyes, then gave me a strange, almost sheepish smile.
“Thank fuck for that.”
“Hi, Dad,” Em said softly when we walked into her hospital room. She looked pale and weak, but her eyes were bright and she still managed to give Reese a smile.
Hunter stood next to her, his eyes watchful and concerned. He was still the badass biker I’d first met in Coeur d’Alene, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t devoted to his girl. He’d do anything for Reese’s daughter—I saw it written all over his face.
I decided I liked him, despite the fact that he’d locked me in a storage room.
“Hey, baby,” Reese said, dropping my hand as we crossed over to her bed, which was by the window. Em didn’t have a roommate. I wondered if that was because she’d gotten lucky, or if Hunter had scared the nurses into giving her space.
Probably best not to ask.
Reese leaned over and kissed her forehead, then sat down on the bed next to her. I stood beside him, which should’ve felt awkward but it somehow didn’t.
I was just happy to see Em alive and well.
“So I hear you saved my ass,” Em said to me, her eyes full of gratitude. Not a hint of blame or wariness—she obviously had no idea I’d been a prisoner when I discovered her bleeding. Guess that was on a need-to-know basis, something I found very comforting. I’d just as soon she didn’t find out I’d tried to kill her dad. I had a feeling she’d hold a wicked grudge.
“I did my best,” I said quietly. “You scared me—thought we might lose you. How are you feeling now?”
“Weak,” she replied. “Sad. They told me it was a girl. It’s strange … I was kind of scared when I saw the positive pregnancy test, but I loved her. I wanted her. I can’t believe she’s gone.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Em nodded, a hint of red around her eyes. I glanced up at Hunter, seeing shadows written in his face. They’d obviously both wanted her. I hoped they’d get another chance … Ectopic pregnancies could do a lot of damage.
“You tired, little girl?” Reese asked, reaching out to catch Em’s hand. “You want some rest? We can go wait outside.”
“No,” she said, squeezing his fingers. “I’m just glad you’re here.”
“Hello, Reese,” a new voice said, and I looked up to see a girl standing in the door frame. This had to be Kit, the daughter I hadn’t met yet. I recognized her from her pictures, although they’d all been taken before she’d adopted her current style. She looked like a Betty Page pinup, all vintage clothes, sculpted black hair, red lipstick, and tough-girl attitude.
Like Em, she was stunning, but in a completely different way.
Reese stood and walked toward her. She flung herself into his arms, squeezing him tight as he lifted her up for a hug. He’d told me she liked to pick fights with him—and I had a feeling calling him by his first name was part of that dynamic … But clearly when shit hit the fan, the Hayes family stood together. After long seconds he let her slide back down to the ground and she stood back, smiling at him with a hint of vulnerability in her face.
Then her eyes found me, and they narrowed.
“This her?” she asked, her voice sharp. Em sighed heavily and Hunter rolled his eyes. Time to step in and diffuse, I decided.
“I’m London Armstrong,” I said in a clear, friendly voice as I walked over and held out my hand. “You must be Kit. I’ve seen so many of your pictures, but none of them are recent. I love your look—very classic.”
She sniffed, signaling clearly that it would take more than flattery to win her over. Alrighty, then. I’d try another tactic.
“Reese, would you like me to go and get coffee for everyone?” I asked. “Let you have some family time together?”
He raised a brow, but Kit looked triumphant. Clearly she thought she’d scared me. Not the case, but I wasn’t looking to butt heads with her. Em was her sister and Reese was her dad—this was about them, not me. I saw right through this girl. Under the belligerence was an undercurrent of fear and insecurity. She needed to know I wasn’t here to take her father away from her, and the best way to communicate that was with space.
They could have their moment without me.
“I’ll help you,” Hunter said suddenly. I nodded, surprised. Up to this point, I would’ve bet a hundred bucks that he wouldn’t be leaving this room for anything.
Interesting.
He followed me into the hallway. “Cafeteria’s this way.”
We started walking, falling comfortably silent. I had no idea why he’d come with me, but if I needed to know, he’d say something. I felt like my role here was to support, not question.
“They should have time together,” he said finally. “They’re tight, but Kit and Reese love to fight. Like two alley cats. Us being in there just gives ’em one more thing to fight about, and Em doesn’t need that.”
I laughed, shaking my head as it fell into place.
“They’re not the easiest of families, are they?”
“You got no fuckin’ idea.”
We bought the coffee and carried it back slowly, but despite our best efforts the errand only took about twenty-five minutes. I knocked on the door and pushed it open carefully. Em lay back in the bed, Kit cuddled up next to her on top of the covers. Reese sat between them and the window, leaning back in his chair casually. He rested one ankle across his knee, watching over his girls as they whispered quietly to each other.
Then he looked up at me and smiled, pale blue eyes creased with warmth, obvious pride written all over his face.
“C’mon in,” he said.
I glanced at Kit, but she ignored me. Em winked, patting the side of the bed. I walked over and sat down awkwardly in the tiny sliver of space, wondering what the future held for me with this family.
Only one way to find out.
“Who wants coffee?”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
ONE MONTH LATER
LONDON
I leaned forward into the bathroom mirror, carefully brushing mascara over my pale lashes. Outside the bathroom door I could hear Mellie and Jessica arguing about something—the cabin was only about a thousand square feet and I was very, very happy that Melanie would be moving into student housing in a few weeks.
Wasn’t sure how much more of this I could take.
Loud music started blaring as I brushed my hair, changing abruptly to rap as I smoothed on lipstick. That would be Jessica taking control of the stereo.
It switched back again and I realized a full-on musical battle royale was starting outside the tiny bathroom. Taking one more quick look at myself—not perfect, but I’d do—I stepped out, prepared to start yelling. Before I could, the music stopped completely. Both girls stood in the living room, glaring at each other. Melanie had started standing up to Jessica in recent weeks, something I’d always wished she would do. Now I regretted that wish because I lived in a war zone.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” Jessica growled. I took a deep breath, prepared to tell her off. Melanie beat me to it.
“Don’t talk to me like that.”
“I will if it’s true. I saw that letter. He’s just another pussy-chasing asshole, and writing to him in jail is desperate and pathetic. You’re smarter than me, so why don’t you act like it?”
Mellie’s mouth dropped and so did mine.
Then the doorbell rang.
Melanie stomped past me toward their shared room, leaving Jessica standing in the center of the living room, eyes bright with fury. The bell rang again and I decided they were big girls who could figure this out on their own. Grabbing my backpack, I walked over to the door and opened it.
Then I smiled because everything was okay again.
Reese was here.
REESE
Christ, but she was gorgeous.
I took London’s hand and tugged her out onto the porch for my kiss, because I didn’t feel like dealing with whatever girl drama was brewing in the cabin. And there was major drama brewing—after raising Em and Kit, I could fuckin’ smell that shit in the air.
Fortunately, the sweet softness of London’s lips more than made up for the girls and their games. My hands found her ass, lifting her up and into my body. As always, my cock was as happy to see her as the rest of me.
Rap music blasted out through the window, all but knocking us off the porch. Just as fast it turned off again.
That’s when the screeching started.
“We have to get out of here,” I growled, dragging London toward my fully loaded bike. Being the clever woman she was, she didn’t argue. Let the girls kill each other—this was our weekend, and they weren’t gonna fuck it up for us.
Five minutes later we were pulling off the road and onto the highway, heading north toward the Canadian border. Over the past month London had gotten more comfortable riding with me, which was great for the most part … Although I sort of missed the way she used to cling to me like her life depended on it. Now she felt comfortable enough to raise her hands, weaving and dancing them through the air as we flew down the road.
Things had been fucked up and tense for a while when we’d gotten back. Some of it between me and her, but mostly just getting shit settled with the club. Painter and Puck were facing jail time no matter how you looked at it, and of the three brothers lost, one had been from the Moscow chapter, ninety miles south of Coeur d’Alene. He was a good man, and I’d known him more than a decade. London had come down with me for the funeral. Our relationship might be new, but she’d earned no small amount of respect when she killed that Medina fuck back at the warehouse.
She’d handled herself well at the memorial, too, and afterward more than one brother asked me why she wasn’t my old lady already.
Hard question to answer.
This weekend wasn’t about answering questions, though. It wasn’t about the club, the girls or anything to do with the cartel. Nope, this was about camping out, spending time together, maybe gettin’ my girl drunk and takin’ advantage of her. Perfect.
It was still early by the time we reached my favorite campsite up on the Pack River. Calling it a river was a bit of an exaggeration, at least this time of year. The Pack was fed by snowmelt, and by late summer it wasn’t much more than a foot deep in any given spot. It meandered through a wooded valley, the central channel running across a wide bed of rounded rocks, small sand banks, and waterfalls two or three feet high at most.
Our campsite wasn’t anything particularly special—tucked away off a dirt road, just a little clearing in the trees with a fire pit next to the river. I’d been coming here since I was a kid.
Had to be one of the most gorgeous places on earth. Couldn’t wait to share it with London.
I set up the fire while she rolled out the sleeping bags. Still too early to light it, which was fine because I had other things I wanted to do. And no, I’m not talking about fuckin’ her, although that was on the list, too.
“You ready for some fun?” I asked, and she smiled back at me.
“What did you have in mind?”
“When’s the last time you shot a Super Soaker?”
She stared at me blankly.
“Water gun, sweetheart. Plastic? Pump it up, water sprays out?”
