Dylan's Reaper: Soul Reapers #3

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Dylan's Reaper: Soul Reapers #3 Page 3

by Lowrance, J. D.


  “Gun, Trig, Ax,” I called out to my brothers. Three quick answers came back to me. “What the fuck?” I yelled.

  “Looks like Hellhounds,” Gunner answered.

  As fast as the bullets started was just as fast as they stopped. Silence fell over the house and surrounding area. The tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. A minute, two ticked by.

  “Anything?” I whisper yelled to Gunner who was peering through his scope out into the night. A quick shake told me no. The slow rumble of motorcycles could be heard approaching. God I hope that’s back-up.

  The bikes were laid to rest and within a few seconds gunfire started again. Too afraid to shoot in case it was our guys we waited. Gunner took a few shots until silence descended upon us one again.

  “Clear,” Colton yelled from just beyond the darkness.

  “All clear,” I yelled back.

  Colton bounded up the steps and was through the house as he yelled, “Logan. Are you in here?”

  “Down here,” she called back as he took off down the hall.

  “God damn it woman,” I heard him yell. “Trouble finds you everywhere you go.” I chuckled knowing that statement to be true. Tank followed Colton’s path and as I made my way to my girl, I saw Tank and Sunshine locked in a tight embrace. About time.

  “About time brother,” Colton echoed my thoughts.

  “Back to business brothers.” I hated to break up this little party, but it was time to get back to the clubhouse.

  “Talk to me,” Colton directed as he tucked Logan back into his side.

  “Hellhounds. About five of them. Three down for the count. Two rode off. I don’t think they were expecting you two to come up behind them,” Gunner informed us.

  “They must have been scouting the place,” Whistler said as he joined the group. “For them to have known there were only a few brothers here guarding the place.”

  “Maybe.” Colton had that hard look in his eyes as he did a once over on each of us.

  “Either way this place and those bodies need to get gone.” Stating the obvious was stupid, but I was too worried about my girl as I walked through the group and stopped outside her door. “I will get her in the truck. You get Baxter,” I said as I went to check on her.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Dylan

  “Princess.” Knox had come back into the room. I had managed to work myself completely under the bed. My whole left side throbbed in pain. My fingers and toes were starting to lose feeling, which told me I was hyperventilating. Any movement at all sent black spots across my vision.

  I pried my eyes open to thin slits right as a small light came on by the door. A small light, probably from a flashlight, lit the room as Knox’s feet approached the bed. He laid his phone on the floor with the camera light pointing up to illuminate the room. He easily pushed the bed aside giving me my first good look at him. Dark thick hair crowned his head in what looked like a faux hawk. A perpetual five o’clock shadow graced his chiseled cheekbones to his strong chin. Eyes that caught and held the light stared back at me. I was mesmerized by him.

  “Can you see me princess?” His voice a perfect match to his ruggedly handsome face. Knox wasted no time as he lowered himself down, scooping me up in his arms. I ignored his question, finding solace in his arms; a sanctuary in the most unlikely of places. I clung to him as both relief that he was safe from the craziness that just transpired and weariness that I found such comfort in him washed over me. “I got you,” he reassured me once again. If he was not careful I was going to start believing him.

  I stayed buried in his chest as he carried me through the house. A truck idled out front that held the shadows of other people in the back seat. As Knox laid me down on the front bench I heard the murmurings and soft cries of two women. Was one of them the next sacrificial lamb to the Hellhounds? God, I hoped not for her sake. I would not wish what I went through on my worst enemy.

  Before long Knox was back in the truck, transferring me from the front seat to the back as he rearranged me to his liking. The roar of motorcycles surrounded the truck as Knox held me as once again I was being led into the great unknown. Yet this time, in Knox’s arms, it did not seem as terrifying as before.

  Time yet again let me escape her hold as I dozed in and out of sleep, nestled beside Knox. Eventually the truck slowed as we pulled into a clubhouse. A dozen or so men all dressed similar to Knox, leather, jeans, and shit kickers, waited as the bikes quieted and Knox lifted me back into his arms. Anxiety began to take hold of me as I tried to take in my surroundings without being noticed. Knox must have felt my trepidation because he pulled me tighter against him. His promise of having me once again a light in the storm of the uncertainty that I was facing. Voices and questions converged, some directed at those we were with and others at Knox. Yet he remained silent letting the others explain what happened. I kept my eyes closed and my face buried in his neck.

  “She needs rest,” Knox finally stated. Another instance where he put me first.

  “Take her to Emma’s make shift station,” someone instructed Knox. His body tensed as a few men said, “Whoa.”

  “Ok then,” came the response to whatever look Knox had given them. “Take her to your room then.” Knox did not want to be told again as he walked away from the crowd, but the tension did not leave his body.

  “Knox,” a woman’s voice called. “I need to take a look at her.”

  “I’m coming with you.” The voice was from one of the women that were in the truck with me.

  “Ok,” rumbled from Knox’s chest as he carried me inside and up a flight of stairs.

  “Once I check her out she will need a shower and food and rest,” instructed the first woman. “For now just put her on the bed.”

  Knox did as he was told, laying me gently in the middle of his bed. “Emma’s gonna look you over princess. I am going to go and check in and then be back right after the exam.” I nodded as I gazed up at him through small slits. The feel of his lips on my forehead sent a wave of warmth through me. “I’ll be back,” he promised as he turned to leave.

  OH. MY. GOD. Soul Reapers graced the back of his cut, and if I was a betting woman I would bet he stained his flesh with those same words. Out of the frying pan into the fire.

  Knox

  “So you and Cam huh?” I asked Tank as we made our way over to the bar after church, where nothing was decided and we beat more horses to death. I swore our meetings were getting too fucking long. We needed less talk and more action. Once again we decided to wait until we heard from Woods and Lefty before we did anything, but the more I thought about it the more I believed Prez was just acting like he was sitting on his hands in hopes of finding the leak before giving away what we would do next.

  “Yeah. Me and Sunshine.” Holy Shit. Look at that.

  “Wow brother. That was a full-fledged smile. You must be doing something right.” I felt a twinge of jealousy at Tank’s happiness in the mist of the chaos that surrounded us. Could I ever have that with someone? Could it be with the princess that lay in my bed? As always Ax was behind the bar and handed us both beers.

  “No shit. For once in my life I am.” Tank looked . . . giddy?

  Colton flopped down next to us. “Shit is about to get real,” he said, downing half his beer.

  “About time.” I was ready for this war. I slammed half of my beer. “I can’t wait to take my time with those Hellhounds for what they did to that girl.” And I meant every last word!

  “Anything new from her at all?” Tank asked as I finished off the other half. Ax signaled me to see if I wanted another and I shook my head no. I needed to get back to my girl.

  “Not yet,” I answered. “Her eyes are still so swollen she can’t open them yet. Gunner used to be an EMT so we kept her pretty comfortable. She refused drugs. The Hellhounds probably pumped enough in her while they had her. So we couldn’t really help with the pain, but she never complained once. Not even when Gunner checked and wrapped he
r hand. I feel better now that Emma has checked her out.” The more I thought about it the more I was in awe of her and her silent strength.

  “Speaking of Emma, here she comes,” Tank said. Emma came marching over like the Hellhounds were at our gate. Tru must have seen it as well for he was standing with her by the time she reached us.

  “Colton,” she said, “grab your dad and get to Knox’s room now. You both need to talk to Dylan.”

  “Who’s Dylan?” Colton and I said at the same time.

  “The woman you brought in,” was all she said as she went back the way she came, but this time with Tru following close behind.

  “Well shit.” Emma got more out of princess, I mean Dylan, than I did in thirty-six hours. I rolled her name around on my tongue testing it out.

  “Let me grab Pop and I will meet you in there.” Colton walked into Wesson’s office as Tank followed me to my room.

  As we entered the room, I could not see Dylan at all so I side stepped everyone so that I could see that she was alright. Emma had put an air cast on her broken wrist. From her enlarged pupils, Emma must have gotten some pain meds into Dylan. Logan and Sunshine sat on either side of her on the bed. The dirt and grime had been washed from her hair and reddish highlights caught and held the light. Bruises and burns still marred her skin, but she had a healthy glow about her now.

  She was breathtakingly beautiful.

  “Emma, we’re here,” Colton interrupted my thoughts as he walked into the room with Prez right behind him.

  “What’s so urgent Emma?” Wesson commanded the attention of the room, except Dylan still held mine.

  “HOLY. SHIT,” exclaimed Colton. No shit brother.

  A collective gasp filled the room as tears filled Dylan’s beautiful VERY grey eyes.

  “Honey, what’s your name?” asked Prez.

  “Dylan . . . Dylan Price,” she answered before her eyes looked from face to face finally landing on mine. The connection that I felt for her grew as she sought me for comfort.

  Emma began to clear everyone from the room rather quickly. I went to leave, but the slight shake of Dylan’s head locked me in place. Once the room was cleared of everyone, but Dylan, Colton, Wesson and me, Wesson asked, “Are you Becky’s daughter?”

  Her head nodded yes, but her eyes stayed on mine, seeking the strength she needed to get through this. “Are . . . are you my daughter as well?” Closing her eyes, Dylan broke our connection and my heart seized as the question settled over the room like a thick blanket, suffocating all of us. No one moved. No one breathed as we waited for her answer. A lone tear slid down her cheek. Longing for our connection once more, my feet carried me to her.

  “Shhh princess,” I whispered as I put my arm around her shoulder. I promised no one would hurt her again, and if that meant I shielded her from this so be it.

  With strength most men would kill for, Dylan squared her shoulders, turned to Wesson and looked straight into his eyes. “Yes, I am.” A collective gasp sounded in the room.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Dylan

  Are you shitting me right now?

  I met my father. And he was the PRESIDENT of a fucking MC. And holy shit . . . I got . . . I got a brother. A brother named Colton who has identical eyes as my father . . . and me. I got all of my features from my mother, even down to the dark brown, almost black color of my hair that I highlight with red, because I got tired of people thinking I was her. Oh shit! I was rambling. But my eyes! Holy Hanna! My eyes were just like my father’s, something my mother never let me forget. Those and my stubbornness she always said I got from my father when she was pissed or drunk, which was all the time.

  Why did she never tell me about Colton? Was he hers? The way Wesson looked at me last night, like he was in awe and I was something special. And Knox. Knox stood there in the eye of the storm with me, anchoring me as something powerful swept through that room. I practically begged for more pain medicine when Emma came back to check in on me, just so my mind would stop. I needed a few hours where all the noise died down. The second dose of meds must have been stronger than I thought, because when I closed my eyes it was dark out and now the sun peeped around the shades.

  My body still hurt like hell. I was sore and achy and everything throbbed to the beat of my heart. I needed more meds and some food. My stomach growled nonstop as I tried to focus on that and not go back to my time with the Hellhounds. Plus I really had to use the bathroom, but could not will my body to move. What the hell was I going to do? Not just on getting to the bathroom, but on getting out of this mess that I had made.

  I heard the door creak open and a new wave of helplessness washed over me. Tears filled my eyes as I realized I could not stop whoever just walked in. My body was too sore, my mind too fractured, my soul too broken to defend myself. “Please,” I breathed as the heavy footsteps drew nearer.

  “Princess.” Knox’s voice instantly soothed my frayed nerves. “What’s wrong? You are safe here. Nothing is going to happen to you.” A promise he continued to make.

  “Knox,” I croaked, turning my head to look at him. One tear, then another raced down into my hair.

  “I got you Princess,” he assured me again. “No more tears.” His hand gentle as he wiped away a few more tears that escaped. “Come on. Let’s get you up. You can use the bathroom and even shower if you want.” He paused. “Better yet. I brought you some breakfast. Eat to get some strength, then I can get Emma or someone to come and help you with your shower.”

  “Bathroom,” I whispered, trying to save my throat.

  “Bathroom break it is.” Knox helped me up and out of bed. It took forever to make it to the bathroom, but he never rushed me or made me feel bad for taking so long. I was afraid he was going to stay when he walked me all the way to the toilet, but he just told me to take my time as he left the room. The flush of the toilet had Knox knocking on the door as he slightly opened it. I called him in after my washing my hands and face, and then Knox took me back to the bed.

  Scrambled eggs, bacon, and two slices of toast were arranged perfectly on the plate. “Here.” Knox drew my attention from the plate to the silverware he held out in his hand. “Eat.”

  “Thanks,” I rasped. My throat still sore from all of the screaming and crying.

  “I’m going to get you some water and OJ to help with your throat,” said Knox as he backed out the door. “Eat,” he commanded again before disappearing from the room.

  A few minutes later the door opened again, but instead of Knox returning with my promised drinks, Colton walked in carrying them. I must not have hid my surprise fast enough, because Colton quickly broke eye contact as he murmured, “I hope this is okay.”

  “Of course.” My voice cracked.

  “Drink.” What was it with these men and single syllable commands? The water was the freshest I had ever tasted as I gulped the whole glass down.

  “More,” was all I said as I traded the empty glass for the orange juice. Only taking a small sip, I placed it on my tray before I went back to eating. A ghost of a smile showed on Colton’s face as he went to the bathroom. I heard the faucet and then Colton was back at my side.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “I’ve been better,” I answered truthfully.

  “Your voice sounds like shit.” His words had me jerking my eyes to his to find a teasing glint staring back at me.

  “Asshole,” I croaked. We both chuckled at my endearment.

  “That’s much better,” remarked Colton.

  “What?” Either my head was still messed up or he was all over the place.

  “Seeing you smile.” My cheeks heated. “And now a blush. Thank God because you needed some color in your cheeks.”

  “Oh. My. God.” I mouthed at him before shoving another mouthful of food into my mouth. I took my time chewing as I studied him studying me. Nothing clever came to mind so I decided to ask a couple of questions.

  “Is Rebecca your mom too?”

 
“She was called Becky when she lived here. And no she was not my mom. She may have given birth to me, but she was never my mother.” I could see the hurt in his eyes, and felt a deep ache in my chest for him, for me, for us.

  “She never told me.” A look of understanding passed across his face, and then anger.

  “Same here. About you.” I thought as much after the looks on their faces last night.

  “She told me that Wesson did not want me, so instead of getting an abortion she left town.” My eyes filled with tears again. “I am betting that she lied about that too.”

  “She did,” he confirmed. “Pop was with her because of me, and I know if he knew about you, he would have gotten you away from her.” Tears ran down my cheeks as I tried to accept what he was saying. I could have had a family, but like everything else she took that away from me.

  “Why?” I cried. “Why would she do that? She acted like she couldn’t stand me most of the time.” Colton came and sat next to me on the bed, pulling me into his side. His warmth encased me as I took comfort from my brother. “She was barely ever around. She would leave for days on end the minute I could pour my own cereal and milk. When she needed money she would come home and strip until she got enough to leave again. But sometimes,” I gasped trying to control my sobs. “When I would find her drunk and alone, she would rip into me about Wesson, about my eyes, my attitude, how I was just like him. I was compared so much to that man that I thought I knew him. But I don’t know shit,” I yelled. “I never looked for him, because I thought he didn’t want me and now . . . now . . . I’m in this mess because I was trying to save her!”

  “Shhhh,” Colton hushed. “It’s okay. Whatever mess you are in, it’s our mess now. We take care of our own,” he said. “And you’re ours now.”

  “I don’t want to be anybody’s.” The tears would not stop as Colton pulled me tighter into him. “Can’t you see,” I wept. “I just want to be left alone. Please.”

  “Shhhh.” Colton started to rock me back and forth as I cried into his chest for everything. I cried and cried until sleep eventually overtook me.

 

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