Biker’s Pet: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance (The Sin Reapers MC) (Dirty Bikers MC Romance Collection Book 2)

by Heather West

  There were so many plots, some with flowers, some without, and it started to get me. There were so many dead people buried here. People who had had lives and families and hopes and dreams. People who’d maybe gone before their time or had been taken before given the chance to do the things they really needed to do.

  I thought of Dad like that, though maybe that wasn’t a fair comparison. Most of these people, maybe even all of them, had gone by some force that was beyond their choosing. A car accident, a plane crash. Some sickness like cancer or pneumonia or a bad fever. These people were taken from their loved ones, but my dad had chosen to go.

  Coward.

  The thought slipped through my mind unbidden. It was so powerful I almost stumbled as I walked, overtaken by this sudden, singular concept: my father was a coward.

  Never in my entire life had I thought that, but now I burned with the anger that came from the thought.

  When I finally reached my father’s plot, I almost couldn’t bring myself to stop. I was so angry so suddenly that I wanted to keep on walking by and pretend like he never even existed. How could this man who I’d known all my life have lied to me? And it was a lie, because he had given off this aura of manliness and courage that I had used as the standard by which to measure all men. So many had failed to meet that standard, but, in the end, even my father hadn’t met his own bar.

  I wasn’t sure what to do with that yet.

  Almost reluctant about the whole thing, I stepped closer to his grave. My gaze lingered on his headstone, tracing the individual letters that made up the inscription.

  MARCUS JAMES GILLES

  “THE PREACHER”

  LET NO MAN JUDGE YOU.

  LET YOUR CHOICES BE YOUR OWN.

  THERE IS ALWAYS A WAY TO DO THE RIGHT THING.

  The words were poetic and strangely righteous for a man who ran a club full of burly bikers. If you hadn’t known him in life, you would never guess in death that he had been an outlaw of sorts. Granted, he’d been the sort of outlaw that never strayed too far from the line of the law, but he did stray.

  I wondered briefly as I read the inscription if Dad had chosen it himself or if it had been a collective decision by the members. Maybe it was even Max who’d decided what belonged on the last memory of my father. He’d taken care of everything to do with the funeral, the wake, and anything else that might have been associated with his death. I was in no shape to do it; Mom had been even worse.

  I stepped closer to the tombstone until I was right in front of it. I wasn’t sure what I was doing until my knees buckled and I slumped into the damp, soft earth. The grass was wet still and seeped into the fabric caught beneath my knees. My shoulders slumped a little and for a moment, I just felt empty.

  What am I even doing here?

  I wasn’t sure until I started speaking. “You were my hero, you know?” I told the cold stone, imagining my father sitting in front of me, a half smirk tilted on his face, his eyes sparkling with mischief. The image was so vivid it could have been his ghost propped up on the headstone, watching me. “I never wanted to be you, I wasn’t that stupid, but that didn’t mean I didn’t look up to you. The biker lifestyle wasn’t meant for me, I don’t think. I wasn’t built for it. The strength you always had…I never got any of it. I know everyone thinks I can handle myself, that I don’t need the protection you and Max provided, but I do. I’ve always needed it and now half of that shield is gone.”

  I sucked a harsh breath of air through my nose, holding it deep in my lungs for damn near a minute, before it slipped back out between my lips. The air was strangely sweet here, like flowers and fresh plants.

  “Maybe I could have lived with that,” I continued, not sure where I was going with this or what I meant, but feeling the sudden need to get it all off my chest. I needed him to know what was going on inside of me, even if I weren’t quite sure myself. “Maybe I could have even moved past it if things had been different. I don’t know, maybe I’m completely off base when I say this, but I think a car accident would have made me feel better. Cancer. A gunshot. All of those are…are terrible things. They would have broken my heart. But they wouldn’t have left me feeling like I’d never even known you at all.”

  My voice cracked as I got those last words out. Tears pricked at my eyes as the ache of my bruised heart began to throb in earnest. I’d been trying to avoid it, medicate it with whatever I could find—taking care of my mother, sex with Max, motorcycle rides, throwing myself into work—so it was little more than a dull numbness that was fine so long as I didn’t move the wrong way.

  Sitting here, talking to my father, that was moving the wrong way.

  I sucked in a shuddering breath. “I loved you so damn much, and you didn’t even care enough to stay.” My tone had turned accusatory and I was vaguely aware that Becky was standing not far from me and could probably hear everything. I didn’t care. “People here, buried next to you, they had families, too. Families and lives and friends. Things that mattered to them. And they were taken before their time without so much as a say in the matter. But you? You were a coward! How am I supposed to live with that now?”

  As my words slipped through the air and slowly seesawed down towards the earth to be absorbed, I allowed the silence to fill me. That was something about this place I hadn’t noticed before: how quiet it was. So much quieter than the city and the shop, and even home. Here it was almost peaceful. But it was a lonely kind of peaceful. Not exactly the kind I’d want for the rest of my life.

  There might have been more to say. There probably was, but I didn’t know what it was and I definitely didn’t know how to get it out. It would just have to settle there again on my chest before I got the strength to stir it back up.

  I sat there in silence for who knew how long, lost in my own thoughts. Finally, it was a rustling behind me that brought me back to the here and now.

  Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Becky standing behind me just where she’d been when we first arrived. Behind her, though, was a large man with a blubbery middle and a balding head. Thunder. He was coming to pick up Becky since we’d taken my car here and I was only keeping her company—more like the other way around, really—until he got home.

  Becky noticed my gaze and turned around to see him. I couldn’t see her expression, but heard her gasp and remembered she hadn’t seen him since initiation. “Oh, Thunder!” she exclaimed, her hand partially covering her mouth so the words came out muffled, but there was no mistaking them.

  I saw, as Thunder moved closer, he was limping slightly and moving very slowly. When he got close enough that his features were visible, I could see his face scrunch up in brief bursts of pain.

  Becky rushed to him after a few more seconds and embraced him tightly. He winced at this, but wrapped his arms around her anyway. They held each other tightly and I heard whispers pass between them. They were too quiet for me to make out, but they sounded sweet and tender. I decided I didn’t need to know what they were saying. Knowing it was full of comfort and love was enough for me.

  Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to stand, brushing off my knees. I waited patiently until they broke the embrace.

  Becky, remembering I was still there, turned back to me, Thunder keeping one arm across her shoulders. She bit her lip. “Are you okay?”

  I forced a smile that probably was terribly unconvincing, and nodded my head. “Yeah, I’m good. You guys should head home. Take care of him.” I nodded my head towards Thunder.

  Becky offered me a sympathetic smile, then said, “Thanks. Don’t stay too long, okay?”

  I agreed, then watched as they walked away, their arms wrapped tightly around one another. It wasn’t until they disappeared completely that I turned back to the tombstone. I didn’t drop back down to my knees this time, and I didn’t say anything else to dad, but his ghost lingered there, watching me. I told myself it was a good thing, but didn’t entirely believe it.

  I couldn’t figure out if I was still angry wi
th him.

  I didn’t hear Max, not even when he was standing right behind me. It wasn’t until his arms wrapped around me tightly and he whispered in my ear that I realized he was there.

  “Are you okay?”

  I didn’t say anything, because I didn’t have an answer just then. I let him hold me instead and watched until my father’s ghost finally disappeared.

  # # #

  Max

  Lucy looked haunted. It was the only way I knew to describe it. There had been a little bit of that in her since her father died six months ago, but as I held her beside her father’s gravestone, I knew this was more. The things that were eating away at her were worse here and I needed to get her the hell out of here.

  “C’mon, baby,” I told her gently, still holding onto her. “Let’s go. It’s getting late.”

  She didn’t say anything, but, after a moment, nodded. She let me lead her away from the plot and back through the sprawling, evergreen cemetery towards the front gates. When we stepped through them back towards the land of the living, I noticed her car again. I knew she’d driven here, but seeing the state she was in now, it bothered me. I looked over at my bike, then back again to her car.

  Lucy was already pulling away from me and heading towards it, when I reached for her, yanking her back. Her lips tugged down into a frown. She motioned behind her towards the car and said, “I can’t leave it here.”

  I shook my head. “I’ll have someone pick it up. I just don’t think you should be driving right now.”

  Lucy looked ready to protest, to tell me I was being a stupid ass or something, and, in all honesty, it would have made me feel better. Maybe if she had actually done that, I’d have let her drive home, because it would have told me she was doing better than I thought.

  But she didn’t do that. Instead, her shoulders slumped and she nodded, telling me without words I was right. She didn’t need to be driving just then. She handed me the keys and I pocketed them, not wanting to leave them in the car—I wanted it deposited back at the house, not stolen.

  I escorted her back to my bike and handed her her helmet. She slipped it on and buckled it, but it was more of going through the motions for her than anything else.

  Bringing the bike to life, I waited for her to slip on it, and when her arms made their way around my waist, I took off, heading for home.

  The drive was quiet, filled with the silence of a city getting ready to call it a night and the deafening roar of the bike beneath us. The whole ride home, I kept thinking about what had happened that day. Bills, of all people. How was I ever going to trust him again? How was I going to trust any of my men when the one who was supposed to be the most loyal, was suddenly the one I had to be the wariest of?

  I wanted to tell Lucy what was going on. She was always a level head, and way smarter than anyone would have given her credit for. Her pretty face and her sexy body fooled a lot of guys into thinking she was just some dumb bimbo, but she was smart. And it wasn’t just because she had a head for numbers. She understood things and had a head for problem solving.

  But that was the old Lucy. I had hope still she’d come back to me, that she wasn’t just lost forever in a well of sorrow, but it was hard to remind myself of that sometimes. There were times when all I wanted to do was throw a fit and tell her to just snap out of it, that her father was dead and he was never coming back. Worse, that he’d chosen to die and it was damn time she chose to live. It was a stupid plan, though, and I knew it. I’d lose her if I ever said anything like that. Besides, his death weighed heavily on everyone. How could I expect it to weigh the least on his own daughter?

  By the time we arrived home, I made up my mind. I wouldn’t tell Lucy about Bills, not yet. She was in a fragile state and it wasn’t her responsibility to deal with this. It was my job and I had to deal with it.

  I helped her upstairs, helped her undress, and started the water for her. She took a hot shower and, I’ll admit, I got in with her. My hands roamed her slick body and I kissed at her neck. I caressed her and fondled her and slipped my fingers between her legs until little breaths and moans began to escape her full lips. Maybe it was crass or maybe it was brilliant, but it was the only way I knew how to take her mind off the things that were wearing her down.

  By the time my cock was hard and pressing into her round, firm backside, she was ready for more. I took her there in the shower, pounding into her from behind as her hands were planted palms down on the tiled wall. She begged and pleaded and cried out my name until I spilled myself inside of her.

  My fingers took care of what my cock didn’t, and she cried out again when her own release slammed into her. We finished showering, I tucked her into bed, even though it was still a little early. I stroked her damp hair until she fell asleep, wondering if there was any way I could salvage what was happening.

  I didn’t sleep much that night, but by morning I’d decided what I’d do about Bills. The next time I saw him at the clubhouse, I’d confront him. Whatever was going on, I’d take care of it, one way or another.

  Chapter 16

  I would have called Bills the next morning to set up a meeting with him to confront him about the whole thing, but I had other business to attend to. The whole alliance thing with the Slayers was causing a bit of a commotion and I needed some answers. This was the time to get some of those, before things were cemented officially and before anyone had a chance to argue with me.

  Maybe it was going to be a fruitless endeavor, but something told me I had to try. My gut was reminding me I couldn’t trust Blade, and since seeing two of Blade’s boys with Bills, I was beginning to think my instincts were right.

  Unfortunately, getting information was a tricky thing given the situation. I couldn’t ask my own guys without causing some mistrust between them and the Slayers. Tensions were already high and if I didn’t watch it, I’d blow the whole thing out of the water before Blade even got the chance to stab my back. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad if I knew for sure Blade was aiming to double cross me, but, until then, I had to play it safe.

  That being said, playing it safe didn’t mean I had no options.

  “I’ll be back soon,” I told Lucy. I had the saddlebags packed with a couple sets of clothes and some necessities. I didn’t plan to be gone that long, but I panned for a few days at the very minimum.

  Lucy stood on the door stoop, arms folded over herself, chewing on her lower lip. She was looking better than she had the day before when I’d found her at the cemetery, but not by much. That haunted look still lingered in her eyes and there was something about her, a vulnerability that I didn’t think I’d seen before.

  Or maybe I had, and it had been so long that I didn’t recognize it on her.

  “Are you sure you have to go?”

  Her voice was pleading with me to stay, and for a long moment I considered it. Fuck the club, right? Lucy needed me. But in the end, I knew this was important, too. She did need me, and that was part of the reason that I had to go.

  “Yeah, I do,” I told her, checking the straps on my saddlebags just for an excuse to not look her in the eyes. I hadn’t told her about Bills yet, and at this point I wasn’t sure if I was going to at all. She still didn’t look up to dealing with things and she had never cared much for Bills. “I have some business to take care of out of town and I just don’t think it can wait right now.”

  I could hear the frown in her voice when she said, “Oh, okay.” There was a pause, then, “When do you think you’ll be back?”

  I considered her question for a long moment and decided I wasn’t entirely sure myself. Hopefully, I’d be home in only a day or two, but if things went sideways it could be longer. Finally, I told her, “No longer than a week. Hopefully just a day or two, but definitely no longer than a week.” I straightened myself up to look at her and smiled comfortingly. “I promise, Lucy. I’ll be home soon.”

  We embraced and she clung to me like she worried I might never come back. The weight of h
er father’s death was taking its toll on her and now I knew part of the consequence of that was the desire to leave. It made me wish I weren’t going. I needed to be home with her, to remind her I was worth staying for, at the very least. Part of me was almost scared she wouldn’t be there when I got back, but it was impossible to say.

  “You’ll just be here for a bit by yourself,” I told her, worrying now that I might come back to find myself alone instead. “I called Becky. She’ll drop by to stay with you a couple of days and I’ll bet she’d stay longer if you asked her.”

  “Hmm,” was all Lucy said, not committing to anything one way or the other.

  We held each other like it was the end of the goddamned world, and when I let her go, I should have felt foolish, but all I felt was worried. I revved my bike and took off. Behind me, I saw she stood outside the door until I dropped out of sight completely.