My Perfect Drug (Reapers MC: Ellsberg Chapter Book 2)

by Bijou Hunter

  “I know.”

  “Do you?” MJ asks, shuffling closer to me on the couch. “Or have you gotten so nasty down there in Tennessee that you can’t help yourself?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t pull that move on me, you girl from Tennessee who makes people cry.”

  “She’s not crying,” Audrey says, pointing at me.

  “Not yet, but it’s coming.”

  When I say nothing, Audrey shakes her head. “Lily wants honesty.”

  “She made a baby with Dash Mullen. No way does she want honesty,” MJ says, defending me in her MJ-way. “Lily wants the dream. A stupid, dangerous dream that you’re crapping all over with your logic and harsh truths. Tennessee people are stupid.”

  “You’re stupid,” Audrey hisses at MJ.

  I gasp without thinking. Calling our dumb sister dumb is a huge no-no in the Johansson family. MJ shakes her head and pretends to be disappointed. I know she’ll rat out Audrey later to Mom and Pop. Oh, she’ll rat her out good!

  “You were jealous,” Audrey tells me. “I had a baby, and then even this one gets pregnant, and you were jealous. It makes sense, but you could have picked someone better.”

  “He’s handsome,” MJ says, patting my head before reaching for my plate of food. “He might come from trash, but he’s got good bones. I bet Lily wanted to bang someone sexy after wasting her time humping the dentist who probably smelled like mint and bleach.”

  “Why bleach?” I ask.

  “How do you think they keep their stuff clean?”

  “Not bleach,” I say, handing her a napkin.

  “This is dumb,” Audrey grumbles. “Lily, you should know better, and MJ is just filling your head with fairy tales.”

  Mouth stuffed with food, MJ narrows her dark eyes at Audrey. “Does the giant like how your ass spread during pregnancy? Also, is he aware it won’t return to normal now that the baby is out?”

  “Shut up.”

  MJ smiles brightly, enjoying Audrey’s scowl. After a full minute of them glaring at each other, my sisters suddenly pay attention to me.

  “Dash is handsome, right?” MJ asks, of course not knowing who Dash is.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, there you go,” she says and swallows a mess of food. “Looks are what matter. In fact, I didn’t want Quaid for any other reason than his good looks. People can learn to be kind or wise, but no one can study their way into good looks.”

  “That’s actually smart,” Audrey says.

  “Don’t think sucking up now will prevent me from tattling on you to Mom.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Wide load.”

  “You’re the mean one.”

  MJ shrugs. “I’ve always been the mean one, but people never seem to notice. I think the other stuff distracts them.”

  “What other stuff?” Audrey asks, challenging her.

  “Well, I recently heard from my little sister that I’m dumb, so there’s that,” MJ says wearing her blank stare.

  “Don’t tell Mom,” Audrey begs. “Or Pop.”

  “I promise nothing. You’ve been royally mean to our poor knocked-up and alone-in-the-world sister. She just wanted us to make a big deal about her ability to create life, and you had to hurt her feelings with your mean Tennessee ways.”

  “Shut up.”

  “I’m telling Mom you said that too.”

  “Whatever.”

  MJ turns to me on the couch and takes my hand. When she stares at me with her big brown eyes, I can’t help admiring how much she looks like Mom.

  “You’re smart, Lily. You made the decision to get knocked up by a handsome guy from a horrible family. You wouldn’t do that if you hadn’t worked out all the angles. If this is what you want, I am happy for you, and I’ll support you any way I can including doing or saying things that’ll irritate Pop. That’ll help take the pressure off you.”

  Cupping her jaw, I smile. “You’re the bee’s knees.”

  Audrey decides she wants in on the sisterly love action too. Walking to the couch, she squats down and smiles.

  “What Einstein said.”

  “Your giant made you a bitch.”

  “I know, right?” Audrey cries, tearing up. “I hear his family snarking at each other, and it seems like fun. When I do it, people get upset and hate me.”

  “Do what that other lady does and just nod when they snark,” MJ says.

  “What lady?”

  “The blonde one.”

  Audrey frowns. “They’re all blonde.”

  “The bitchy one isn’t.”

  “You mean, Cricket?”

  “Sure, why not.”

  “Well, Candy is blonde, and she’s bitchy.”

  “I don’t know who that is.”

  “You’re killing me, Smalls,” Audrey grumbles.

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  Audrey glares at MJ who only stares passively. I don’t know if I want them to stay or leave. They both warm my heart and make me wish I was an only child.

  “Do you want a boy or a girl?” MJ asks suddenly.

  “I don’t care. I’ll love whatever God gives me.”

  MJ points at my face and nods. “You’ve got that lie down. You just need to figure out a better explanation of your baby daddy.”

  “How about,” Audrey begins, “you say you’re star-crossed lovers? Ellsberg’s very own Romeo and Juliet.”

  “Or Pyramus and Thisbe,” MJ suggests.

  “Who?” Audrey asks.

  “The Greek version of Romeo and Juliet.”

  “Oh, well, Lily and Dash can be like them except without all the downer suicide stuff.”

  “Mom and Dad both like book learning,” MJ says. “They sit around reading their books in between having sex.”

  Audrey sighs. “Will you ever be able to enjoy quiet moments like that with Dash? He’s a Mullen, so is he even qualified to be your ride or die?”

  “He can be anything he wants,” I declare and my sisters shake their heads in unison. “He and I can make whatever life we desire.”

  “Dash is a lost cause, sis,” Audrey says. “Even with his kid, you can find someone better suited for you. Lots of men can overlook the single-mom thing.”

  MJ stops downing a bottle of water for long enough to mumble, “Yeah, Candy was a single mom for many years before she found the giant Hayes man.”

  Audrey frowns at our sister. “I thought you said you didn’t know who Candy was.”

  “I say a lot of things, dumb-dumb.”

  Audrey grins. “I knew you paid attention.”

  “Don’t cream your panties, little sister. I maybe catch forty percent of what happens around me, so don’t start quizzing me or anything.”

  “This is not how I thought this conversation would play out,” I say, sighing deeply.

  “Did you think we’d wail with horror at your baby daddy choice?” MJ asks and cuddles against me.

  Enjoying the warmth of my sister, I lie and say, “Actually, I figured you’d be most excited about our babies being so close in age.”

  “Hey, that’s true!” Audrey cries and MJ flinches at the sound. They eye one another again until Audrey finally continues, “Cap’s nieces and nephews all have twins to play with, and now Keith will have cousins close to him in age too.”

  “Wait, who’s Cap?” MJ asks.

  Audrey loses her smile. “I swear I’m going to bitch slap you one day.”

  “Not while I’m with child. Can you even imagine how embarrassed you’d be if a preggo kicked your wide ass?”

  “Bitch,” Audrey says, enunciating the words, “slap.”

  “I hope you have a girl,” MJ tells me. “I can imagine how much fun you’ll have dressing up a little girl. Oh, and she and you could wear matching outfits like those weirdo moms do with their kids. Except it’ll be cute when you do it because you’re better looking than those weirdo moms.”

  “I really don’t care if it’s a boy or a gir
l,” I say, resting my hands on my stomach. “I’ve wanted to be a mom for so long that I’m just happy it’s finally happened.”

  “And we’re happy for you,” Audrey announces as if she missed the entire conversation up to this point.

  My sisters spend the rest of lunch cooing over me and the baby and my trailer trash lover. Mostly, they talk about how we’ll raise our babies together so they can defeat the babies of other people. Through it all, MJ eats all my food and Audrey tries to snark less cruelly.

  Fortunately, their rude, accusatory reactions prove to be stellar prep for what likely awaits me with Mom and especially Pop. I’m one step closer to going public with my long-time secret, and I’ve never been more excited.

  THE LOSER

  My brother, Cy, is six months older than me but looks ten years my senior. Seeing him beaten down by life is one reason I chose not to give a shit about anything. His anger keeps him warm, but it’ll also kill him young. I have no doubt he’ll be dead by forty, leaving his two sons to take up his raging mantel. Seeing him drink his breakfast, I wouldn’t be shocked if Cy dies before reaching thirty.

  This morning is no different as he stumbles downstairs at eleven, nursing a hangover he’ll treat with beer. I look up from my phone to acknowledge him, but we don’t speak. I can’t remember the last time I had any interest in exchanging words with Cy.

  While he rummages around in the kitchen for something to eat, I lean back in our makeshift office’s desk chair. My mind reminisces on the dinner I cooked with Lily last night.

  Before she moved in all of her crap, Lily’s place felt cold. Books now fill the many built-in living room shelves, and her couch is covered with pillows she quilted during her engagement to Jay. Our house also has them scattered everywhere. Lily gets crazy-crafty when stressed, and half of the homes in Ellsberg are filled with her quilted pillows.

  I glance into the living room where our ratty couch is covered by a quilted blanket Lily made Sissy years ago. Smiling, I think of last night again.

  During the many years of our on again, off again relationship, we’ve spent plenty of nights together and even taken a trip away, but we never managed to cook together. I hadn’t expected frying chicken to be such a big deal. I cook at home all the time since Cy refuses to and Sissy only knows how to prepare three things—grilled cheese, spaghetti, and hot dog casserole.

  Cooking with Lily was casual like we rarely get to be. We moved around each other with ease while she rehashed the latest episode of the soap opera crap she loves and I tolerate for her benefit. Every once in a while, we’d accidentally block each other’s way in the small kitchen, and a make-out session would break out. I might be reading too much into her behavior, but I’d bet money that pregnancy hormones are giving her an extra shot of horny.

  “I think we got pregnant on the couch,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows for effect. “Probably on that first night you visited here.”

  “I sensed my cum was very productive that day.”

  Lily then proceeded to grab my ass and objectify me in the best possible fucking way.

  Yeah, last night was brilliant like life rarely is, but I’m not buying into her hopes for unicorns farting rainbows. Sure, behind closed doors we can be anyone, and the world isn’t the wiser. Once we step outside her place, we’re back to being the princess and the loser. She can’t shake her last name any more than I can mine.

  Reality be damned, my mind keeps returning to last night. Lily beamed with excitement after sharing her big news with her sisters. An empowered goddess, she looked ready to call her parents and announce to them what she told Audrey and MJ. Of course, she didn’t. Embracing life without their approval remains her white whale.

  “Heard you knocked up some skank,” Cy says from behind me.

  I glance back to find him elbow-deep in the kids’ cereal box. Making a mental note to tell Sissy not to use that one, I shrug at Cy’s words. I assume he learned about the baby from our big-mouth sister.

  “Don’t worry,” I mutter and light a cigarette. “You’re still ahead of me in the bastard kids contest.”

  Cy stares at me with his raging blue eyes, and I hate how much they resemble Topher’s. Having two sets of those evil peepers in the world feels like two too many. Both of Cy’s boys share the same look. The faulty Mullen genes continue to trash up future generations.

  “Who’s the whore?”

  Typing numbers into the Excel worksheet, I ask, “Why? Are you looking to bang my sloppy seconds?”

  “You’re hiding something.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  Cy shoves a handful of food in his mouth before spitting out the words, “Topher won’t like that.”

  “He doesn’t like anything. Not you. Not me. Not even himself.”

  “Oh, I bet he likes himself just fucking fine.”

  Unable to ignore my brother with him crowding me, I look up to find Cy’s hard gaze. He wants something from me. There’s no other reason he’d be so chatty this early in his day.

  “Topher thinks I shot Miranda Johansson,” he growls as if I’m the one who made the accusation.

  I don’t even know how to respond. My face muscles just freeze, and I stare at him for way too fucking long. Finally, I burst into laughter.

  “Why the fuck would he think that?”

  “Apparently, at some point in my life, I talked shit about her.”

  “You’ve talked shit about all the Johanssons,” I mutter. “Talking shit about them is our family’s pastime.”

  Backing off, Cy shrugs. “Topher got it in his fat fucking head that I’m the guy who pulled the trigger, and I brought trouble on the family, and I need to pay for that shit.”

  “Pay how?” I ask, no longer snickering.

  “He didn’t say.”

  Our father has a hair-trigger temper, but plenty of assholes in our world do. What’s different about Topher is how he’ll kill anyone.

  He killed his brother during a fishing trip. When someone asked why, he only said, “He knows what he fucking did.”

  He likely killed Cy’s mother who disappeared during a visit to Ellsberg. She no doubt knew what she did too. It’s rumored Topher killed every one of his brothers and two of his sisters. The other Mullens ran off years ago after Grandpa “died in his sleep” the same night he beat his remaining son in a poker game.

  “If you wanted MJ dead, she’d be dead,” I finally tell Cy. “Whoever shot her was a pussy.”

  “I think one of the Reapers shot her. I also think Johansson knows it was one of his guys, but he’s hiding it from people. No way did some twat from Tennessee do it. They’re lying about how shit went down.”

  “Did you tell Topher that?”

  Cy leans against the wall, and I suspect his world is spinning. “I told him if I was going to kill one of the Johanssons, it would be Colton. The fucker pissed on me.”

  “That he did,” I say, unsure if I admire or hate Lily’s brother despite him doing what I’ve often considered doing. “If you’re looking for my advice regarding Topher, I’d say you keep a low profile. Maybe even leave town until he finds something new to obsess over.”

  “He doesn’t let go of shit,” Cy says, doing nothing to hide his doom.

  “He’ll have new shit to obsess over very soon. You won’t be on his radar.”

  Suspicious now, Cy asks, “What shit?”

  “He won’t be a fan of my baby mama.”

  “Fess up.”

  “Fuck that. I don’t gossip, bitch.”

  Rolling his blue eyes, Cy returns to the kitchen where I hear a beer crack open. I don’t blame him for wanting to spend his time wasted if he thinks he isn’t long for this world. On the other hand, hiding makes more sense than drunkenly waiting for his death. Cy’s not an idiot like Sissy, but he doesn’t think past his immediate needs. Right now, he wants a beer, so he’ll drink. Later, he’ll want to run even though he’ll be too drunk to get far.

  When I think of the trash famil
y I come from, I’m again struck by the mistake of bringing a kid into the world with our foul blood running through its innocent veins. Sooner or later, my family’s fuckery dooms every Mullen.

  THE CHAPTER WHERE THE PRINCESS PISSES OFF THE KING

  THE PRINCESS

  My sisters were adamant that I shouldn’t make my baby announcement on family dinner night. They swore the added pressure of having everyone around would make Pop extra-mental. They also claimed I don’t do well under pressure or with an audience.

  “I was on the debate team in high school,” I countered during the fondue party.

  Audrey didn’t miss a beat before declaring, “Yeah, and you always lost.”

  While I could have explained the luck of the draw in those debates as the reason I always lost, they wouldn’t believe me anyway.

  So instead of a family dinner night, I choose an ordinary evening when Pop and Mom will be alone. I arrive before they’ve eaten, figuring they’ll be easier to distract if they’re hungry rather than resting comfortably. We’ll argue a little, eat a little, and end the evening in a better place. Wow, it’s amazing how effortlessly my plan comes together when everything happens in my head.

  Just after five, I sit across from them while they relax in their side-by-side chairs. My still handsome Pop scans his phone for messages, occasionally blowing his too long blond bangs from his eyes. My mom—who blessed me with my dark hair and eyes—looks over a recipe for tonight’s dinner. They seem calm enough. Even if they weren’t ready for my big news, I’ve waited too long for this moment to chicken out.

  “Mom and Pop, I’m pregnant,” I announce before blurting out, “On purpose by a man you don’t like, but he’s someone I love. I hope you can understand. If you can’t, I’ll give you space to come to terms with what I’ve told you here.”

  “What’s she talking about?” Pop asks Mom, falling into his old man routine quickly. “Is she pregnant?”

  “Yes, Coop. Stop acting as if you’re deaf.”

  “Who’s the father?”

  Mom rolls her eyes. “I don’t know, but I don’t think she wants you to kill him.”

  “Eh, hard to say how much I care what she wants until I know who he is,” Pop says and narrows his brown-eyed gaze. “Fess up, kiddo. Who’s the man I might need to kill?”