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

by Bijou Hunter

  Sighing, I wish I still smoked. A cigarette would taste great right now, but I’m a new man who cares about himself and the people around him. Sighing again, I look at a pissed Cooper and force a smile.

  “This is actually a good thing for you.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Topher’s gone. You’ll get rid of the Mullens. The Roches will stop playing butthurt about Rudy. Fuck, they’ll think you’re downright kingly for getting rid of their arch enemies. Plus, you’ll make more money from booze and pot with your guys running it. I hate to tell you but Topher and Cy have been skimming cash off the top for years.”

  “What about your fucking brother?”

  “Topher likely killed him,” I say, unable to muster up any sorrow. “Even if he’s alive, there’s nothing for him here.”

  “He has two fucking kids.”

  “Yeah, but Mullens don’t view their offspring the way Johanssons do.”

  Cooper exhales loud enough to startle a nearby dog. Again, I’d normally find this amusing, but I’m too exhausted to react.

  “Let’s say I lowball the idiots and send them packing, then what? Who’s going to run the fucking business?”

  “Colton’s always whining he has nothing to do, so let him run it.”

  Frowning, Cooper glances around as if suffering from déjà vu. “I admit having Topher gone is a big damn New Year’s bonus.”

  “He knew he was on his way out, and I think he planned to take us all with him today. I wasn’t ready for the suicidal shit he pulled, and I’d be dead if it wasn’t for Sissy.”

  Cooper must hear something in my voice or see it on my face because he reaches over and pats my back reassuringly. It’s a simple gesture, but I’m not accustomed to concern from the men around me. Any other day, I’d bawl like a kid grateful for crumbs of support. Today, I’m hollowed out.

  Lily’s appearance offers a sunrise after a painfully long night. She emerges at the sound of Farah arriving home with Haydee and Hart. Lily’s gaze finds me, and a smile lights up her beautiful face. I notice how her hand reflexively touches her bump as she watches Sissy race downstairs to meet her babies.

  Walking past me, Cooper mutters, “Get your idiot cousins ready to meet tomorrow. We’ll pay them off and send them on their way.”

  His words are background noise. I can only see Lily who wraps herself around me.

  “Topher’s dead,” she says, and her words are music.

  “That he is.”

  Her infectious smile warms my mood. I know Lily wouldn’t be so relaxed if Sissy spoke of death or doom upstairs. I’m sure they only talked of our bright future in Conroe.

  A future without Topher Mullen.

  THE CHAPTER WHERE THE STORY ENDS

  THE PRINCESS

  A man’s death shouldn’t put me in the festive mood, but Topher Mullen is—scratch that—was the kind of a person who made the world an uglier place. Now that he’s gone, I can’t help celebrating a new beginning for everyone whose lives were tainted by his existence.

  I don’t know if Sissy will ever fully recover from what happened. On the first evening without Topher in the world, she alternates between bouts of tears and stretches of uncontrollable giggling. The doctor said she could sleep if needed, but we ought to check on her regularly. Sissy, though, refuses to go to bed until her kiddos go with her. Feeling maternal, I read them a story and promise tomorrow will be better.

  While his sister uses her kids as a security blanket, Dash clings to me.

  “I hate caring sometimes,” he whispers before dinnertime when the activity around us makes him edgy. “You did this to me.”

  Cupping his bearded face, I stare into his gray eyes and say with all my heart, “I’m not sorry.”

  Dash’s downward-turned lips curl into a smile. “Arr,” he says in an almost threatening tone. “Many times tonight, arr.”

  I smile at his meaning, but once alone, we spend more time talking than having relations.

  “If Sissy had killed herself,” he says, breaking down at the thought.

  I hold him while he nuzzles my bump. Dash desperately wants our little guy to kick hard enough for him to feel it. The baby remains too tiny for anyone except me to feel him playing the bongos in my belly. Soon, though, Dash will be able to enjoy our boy’s rhythm too.

  “Sissy can start over in Conroe. We’ll make sure she doesn’t hook up with any loser men,” I murmur while running my fingers through his dark hair. “I’m excited to work with you every day. We’re going to get so sick of each other.”

  “Never,” he says, smiling up at me. “Too many times we wanted to be together and couldn’t. I plan to make up for that shit by attaching myself to you every day and night.”

  “Ahoy, buccaneer,” I tease as my lips tease his. “I’d rather be annoyed by too much time together than lonely without you.”

  “I heard you loud and clear, matey,” he says, sitting up and removing his shirt. Stripping down to his birthday suit, Dash relaxes on the bed and sighs. “Ravish me as you will.”

  Despite laughing at his pose, I waste no time taking advantage of his naked body. Having relations is a fantastic distraction from the ugliness in life, and I distract him something wonderful all night.

  The next day, Dash leaves with Pop to meet the Ohio Mullens. MJ shares with me how Quaid told her that the Reapers plan a big show of force at the meeting. They want to make the situation crystal clear to Clyde and Lloyd.

  “Pop wants everyone at the meeting,” she whispers even though we’re alone in the room. “He might be shipping in guys from other towns just to make the Mullens pee themselves.”

  “Good.”

  “Don’t cry,” MJ says and hugs me.

  “I’m not crying.”

  “Oh, sorry, it’s just your face always looks on the verge of crying.”

  Enjoying her hug, I’m glad I called in and quit my job rather than struggling through two more weeks with people who don’t want me around. I’d rather spend time with MJ and Sissy while making plans for the Victorian in Conroe. By the time Dash returns from the meeting, I’ve sketched out the proposed floorplans for our new duplex.

  “Look at Lily Bear learning new skills,” he says. “You don’t need my help at all.”

  “Don’t tell me to suck eggs. You’re going to help with everything in our home. From floors to the ceiling and everything in between.”

  “I would never want you to suck on an egg,” he says and whispers, “Not when I have something tastier for you.”

  “Later,” I murmur before my dad can catch onto Dash’s flirting.

  “So your brother runs the pot and booze business in Ellsberg now,” Pop announces.

  Like clockwork, Colton rushes into the room with his fists pumping into the air. “I have shit to do!”

  We applaud his triumph over boredom. Even Hart and Haydee get in on the action, though they have no idea why anyone’s clapping.

  “I’m proud of you, baby,” Mom tells Colton.

  “Thanks. I waited around until something was dropped into my lap. This might be my greatest accomplishment.”

  While Colton and Mom talk up his achievement, I cuddle with Dash on the couch and soak in the joy around us. The demise of his family’s power in Ellsberg provides a boon for mine.

  But Dash isn’t a Mullen anymore. That guy with no fucks to give is permanently replaced by a man expecting blessings. He finally believes the world doesn’t have to be awful. His life is now his own and can be as good as he makes it. For the first time in all these years, I see genuine hope in his gray eyes, and I want him to have everything he’s ever dreamed.

  OH, BY THE WAY, FROM THE PRINCESS

  In mid-February when Ellsberg’s weather is frigid, Mom and Pop celebrate their wedding anniversary by flying off for a week in Punta Cana. I hope warmer weather in the Dominican Republic will provide the jolt of fun their relationship needs.

  “Fucking does the heart right,” says a stoned
Dash on the first night they’re gone.

  Colton laughs, exhaling smoke with every chuckle. “Don’t talk about my mommy and daddy porking.”

  “You two suck,” I mutter, unhappy to be the only sober person in the room.

  “They do suck,” Sissy says, blitzed out on the floor next to me. “The kids can hear my thoughts.”

  “They’re sleeping in the yurt,” I remind her.

  “And they can hear my thoughts from there.”

  Giggling at their idiot chatter, I mostly wish I could enjoy a little Mary Jane, but the baby insists I stay sober. Plus, someone needs to be the grown-up, though MJ does show up later to steal food from the house for her guests.

  “Can I come with you?” Sissy asks my sister.

  “No, you’re on vacation for the night. Now shut up and leave me alone,” MJ mutters before storming out of the house.

  “Why is she mad?” Sissy asks me.

  “MJ doesn’t like to share, and tonight your kids belong to her.”

  “Cool, cool,” Sissy says and smiles dreamily. “Colton, why do you fart so much?”

  My brother doesn’t miss a beat before replying, “Someone has to.”

  Dash finds this answer hilarious, and his laughter infects the rest of us. We hang out the rest of the night, dealing with the munchies while watching “Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure.”

  Our chill behavior is nothing compared to the mellow lovebirds who return days later from the Caribbean tanned and satisfied.

  Clinging to each other and wearing matching shell necklaces, my parents are renewed in a way that involves details I really don’t want to know.

  “Did you have fun?” MJ asks them.

  “Oh, yeah,” Pop says, and Mom giggles.

  Colton shakes his head and heads for the door. “Gross.”

  “That boy needs to get laid,” Pop taunts, laughing with Mom at their son’s reaction.

  “I feel uneasy,” MJ says and looks to Quaid. “I refuse to understand why they’re smiling so much.”

  Her husband guides her to the door where they look back at my parents with concern before disappearing outside.

  “Make your jokes,” Pop says, wrapping an arm around Mom’s shoulders. “Nothing you do will bring us down.”

  A triumphant Dash nudges me and winks. “I knew if it got Stella’s groove back, the same plan would work for your parents.”

  Laughing at where his inspiration came from, I make a mental note to reward him later with a trip to our bedroom version of the Caribbean, pirate style.

  A FINAL WORD FROM THE FORMER LOSER

  Conroe has all a man really needs to be happy—a delicious BBQ place, people who mind their own business, and other people who give a shit if I live or die. My life is better than I deserve. I’ve got a woman who loves me, a sister who cracks me up, a niece and nephew who think I’m pretty fucking awesome, and a job that pays the bills. Soon, I’ll even have a baby boy to hold.

  Driving back and forth from Ellsberg to Conroe for months proves to be more enjoyable than I expect. We take a page from Gram Jodi and alternate our bunking situation. One week, we end up at Bailey’s. The next week, we’re at Sawyer’s. This gives me a chance to get used to these new people I need to care about while also ensuring we never overstay our welcome.

  Sissy joins us on the days we can return by the end of the school day, so she’s able to pick up her kids. She brings them along for weekend trips. As for work, Sissy has no clue about house design and gets overwhelmed when given too many options. When her only task is to oversee someone else’s ideas, Sissy is a superstar and loves being onsite.

  Our planned move riles up Cy’s baby mamas who’ve accepted he isn’t coming back. I promise to deposit money monthly in their accounts, so my nephews won’t starve. In exchange for my generosity, the baby mamas swear to stay the hell away from my family and me. I’m convinced Cy’s sons will end up, at best, like their father and, at worst, like their grandfather. Either way, I’m finished with the toxic Mullen thinking, and I won’t have my children—or Haydee and Hart—tainted by their rage at the world.

  After months of driving back and forth between Conroe and Ellsberg, we finally officially move in. The Victorian is a beauty—almost as gorgeous as Lily Bear—and I try not to dude up the design and decorating process too much. However, I insist we cut down on the number of doilies and knickknacks Lily seems to produce out of thin air.

  “Unless they’re Lily creations,” I say when she puts up a fuss, “they can live elsewhere.”

  “But where?”

  “I’m sure there are plenty of old ladies around these parts who need them.”

  Lily narrows her brown eyes full Johansson. When that move doesn’t work, she puffs out her chest to distract me. I just smile since those sweet milkmaids are mine as much as hers. In fact, I bet they resent being used against the man who brings them such pleasure.

  “Okay, but I made the quilts, so we keep those,” she insists.

  So shocked to have defeated Lily, I forget to ask for a super masculine couch like the ones in Bailey and Nick’s house. She remembers, though, and surprises me with one during move-in day. Of course, she covers the super masculine brown leather beauty with one of her pastel-explosion quilted blankets. In the end, we both win.

  We’re settled in Conroe when MJ goes into labor. We immediately drive to Ellsberg to ensure Lily can be there for the birth. Thisbe is cute—for a baldy—but Lily is very concerned at how much screaming her sister did during labor.

  “I wasn’t properly stretched out,” MJ says more than once.

  Lily laughs off this comment, but I’m ready to do my duty.

  “Allow me to prepare your canal for our son’s journey,” I offer Lily after MJ makes her announcement again while everyone’s at the Johansson place. “My flagpole is at the ready.”

  Audrey overhears and decides to throw in her own advice. “Be careful not to overdo the stretching or else your baby might flop out as you’re just walking around.”

  “No,” MJ says, shaking her head. “Just no.”

  Lily rolls her eyes. “My baby will come out the way all babies come out.”

  Even unconvinced sex is the answer to a painful delivery, Lily agrees to a lot of sex during the last few months of her pregnancy. Just to be safe. Lily Bear is all about playing shit safe, and there’s no reason to be unprepared.

  Whether it’s the sex or her “wide birthing hips”—which Colton points out—Lily delivers our son after two hours of labor with minor pain and only a hint of violence. Mainly, she threatens to hurt her brother if he doesn’t stop talking about the size of her hips.

  Byron Cooper Mullen is the most chill baby. He literally comes out, screams for like thirty seconds, and then goes super mellow for the rest of the day. The kid barely cries when he’s hungry or wet. He just squawks and waits for someone to serve him.

  Yeah, that’s my boy.

  Born with a thick head of hair, Byron photographs wonderfully—which is vital for the competition between the three sisters. He digs his mom’s milkmaids nearly as much as I do, and he travels like a pro. I can’t believe I got such a badass kid. He’s chill like me but cool like a Johansson. On the rare occasion when he gets pissed, my boy even snarls like his grandpa.

  “You did good getting knocked up,” I murmur one night while Lily, Byron, and I relax on the couch.

  “This little man was the catalyst for a whole lot of blessings,” she says, caressing his cheek while he naps in my arms. “But I never would have had the nerve to get pregnant if I didn’t know loving you was worth it.”

  “Loving me is fucking fantastic,” I say, swimming in bravado since my awesome wife gave birth to my super badass boy.

  Lily laughs at my comment, but she knows I’m a winner.

  And thanks to my Lily Bear, I know it too.

  A FINAL WORD FROM THE PRINCESS

  Dash and I make the most beautiful, mellow son. There’s no denying Byron’s
my mini-me. He inherited my thick dark hair, big brown eyes, and a pout blessed to me by my mom. His relaxed personality is all Dash, though. He’s such an easygoing baby that I struggle against the urge to have another one right away.

  “I need time to focus solely on Byron,” Dash says when I babble about how we can totally handle another baby, ignoring how we’re still getting the hang of raising our first one while also settling into Conroe with a new job and a million other shifting parts of our life.

  His words mean nothing to me. The tone of his voice, though, sedates my need to procreate. Dash went from having so little to surrounded by blessings. He needs time to adjust to this new reality. Rather than rush for more, he wants to savor every joyful moment. I grew up never doing without, so I put my baby lust in neutral and let Dash set the pace.

  Right around the time Byron starts running, Dash gets his own baby fever. As his gorgeous gray eyes plead with me, he whispers how the two blue bears on his chest are lonely.

  Eugenie is born less than a year later. By then, the Conroe projects are complete, the factory is open, and our small hick town is bustling. Dash and I have the freedom to work from home or even at the park near our house. Mullens and Johanssons shared one thing in common—besides the whole illegal business situation—and that was intermingling work and childrearing. Byron and Eugenie tagging along while we oversee projects just makes sense, and our parenting skills gel perfectly.

  Mom and Pop visit a lot, which means he’s always butting heads with his sisters who don’t want him around.

  “You micromanage,” Sawyer announces.

  “I clean up messes,” Pop says, waving off her claim.

  Bailey immediately pipes in with, “What messes? We’re killing it here. You’re so jealous the astronauts on the International Space Station can spot your green face.”

  “The what now?” Pop mutters.

  Bailey just shrugs. “I’ve been watching a lot of NASA shit on YouTube, but my point remains. You’re a jealous monkey dork.”