Chaos: A Reapers MC Boxset

by Elizabeth Knox

  The front door to her apartment clicks and I see her frame coming through the door, walking toward the shoebox of a room to check on Cobra. She sets her bag down on the floor outside the doorway and kneels down, scanning over him. Cheyenne places her fingers on his wrist and I see her turn her watch toward her. I guess she must be checking his pulse or whatnot.

  “Work any better today?”

  “What do you care?” Cheyenne grumbles.

  Shit, why do I even try? “Not everyone is an asshole you know. Some people actually give a damn.”

  She takes her hand from Cobra’s wrist and looks at me sternly. “We’re not friends. You’re only here because your club needed my help and Boomer is fond of you guys. I only helped because I couldn’t ever live with a man’s death on my conscious, knowing I could’ve done something to prevent it.”

  I smile, “See, you actually give a damn too.”

  Cheyenne rolls her eyes, but as she does I’m only left wondering why she’s so rough around the edges. Usually there are things in life that make people so cold, but I don’t know about her. Then again, I literally don’t know anything about her, besides the fact Boomer is her brother.

  “You don’t have to be so guarded.” I tell her, doubting it’ll make a difference.

  “That’s a load of shit. It’s better to be guarded versus an open book. The only thing that does is gets you hurt.”

  Obviously, she has some rough parts of the past she probably won’t share, but I’m not a pusher. She can either open up or keep it all locked away, safely buried under whatever façade she’s insisting on keeping up.

  “Not everyone you come into contact with is your enemy. I’m sure you know that.”

  “I didn’t say you were my enemy, but I’m not gonna sit over here and then blab about my life story when you don’t give a shit in the first place. There’s no point in even doing that, especially when I don’t even know where I’ll be going after this week.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I know she talked about having the lease on her apartment through the next week, and it’s mid-June now.

  She shrugs her shoulders and decides to sit down on the floor with her back against the wall. “I moved out here because I wanted a change. I wanted to get out of my brother’s shadow and away from his club and . . . this isn’t what I expected at all. I don’t know what I thought this was gonna be like if I’m honest but . . . I don’t like it here. I’m fuckin’ miserable. My boss is an asshole and I’m just over this shit. I’m so fucking over it.”

  An idea pops into my head. It’s either a bad one, or a great one. “Why don’t you come with us? You said you wanted a change of scenery and you’re miserable here, so why not come to Las Vegas with us? You can see if Nevada treats you better than Kansas has, and even if it doesn’t, there are always strip clubs and bars.”

  Cheyenne lifts her eyes to meet mine, “At least tell me the women are hot there.”

  “Oh, are you uh . . .”

  “A lesbian? Yeah, and I enjoy beautiful women just like you guys do. Honestly, I could probably teach you a thing or two on how to properly pleasure a woman. I’ve been known to give a few pointers.”

  Somehow, I get the feeling she’s thinkin’ I’m jokin’ about her comin’ down to Vegas. “You know I’m serious, right? I wouldn’t suggest somethin’ like that if I wasn’t. We have a nurse practitioner down there too, and I have a feelin’ you might get along.”

  “Why, she a lesbian?” Cheyenne laughs, loosening up just a tad.

  Shaking my head, “No. She’s . . . she’s my girl. Only, she doesn’t really know it yet.”

  Cheyenne chuckles, “Never took you for the overbearing alpha type. Guess I was wrong about you.”

  “Wrong about me?”

  “Yeah, I thought you weren’t an asshole. Obviously, you are.” The way Cheyenne smirks at the end tells me she’s fuckin’ with me now, but it seems like I’m bringin’ her to Vegas when Cobra and I leave. With any luck she’ll enjoy it, and even if she doesn’t, maybe we can get her up to Billings so they aren’t just relying on Blackjack’s years dated army medic training. We need someone who can handle heavier shit, especially since our list of enemies does seem to be getting bigger.

  Chapter Twenty

  She’s been going through more hell than you’ll ever know. But that’s what gives her beauty an edge . . . You can’t touch a woman who can wear pain like the grandest of diamonds around her neck.

  ~ Alfa

  Sakura

  It’s been odd to not have Mouser here for a week. It’s felt . . . weirder than odd actually. I had finally accepted Damon telling me Mouser was going to be this constant thing around me, hovering like a security guard and then they went on that run out to Kansas and Mouser stayed back with Cobra while he’s been healing. Yesterday they finally got on the road so they’ll be here this evening if we’re lucky.

  Mouser told me Cheyenne, the woman who’d been helping them is coming this way too and I . . . I don’t know how to feel about it. Part of me wonders if Mouser’s developed some sort of infatuation with her and that’s why she’s coming back with him. I was being so standoffish at first with him because of my past, my commitment issues. I could make a list and it would be a mile long, at least.

  Now I’m wishing I gave in a bit sooner and he knew I was starting to develop feelings for him before he left. The possibilities of what’s happened in the last week have been running through my mind and now I can’t stop thinking about it, no matter how much I try. I’m so fearful that something’s been developing between the two of them.

  Damon’s had Dixon with me since Mouser’s been gone, and in the time he’s been spending with me we’ve developed a really interesting friendship. He’s quirky, ballsy and hilarious. Whenever he does find a woman she’s going to be very lucky. The man is like a giant teddy bear once you get past all the bulkiness and the grimace he wears so well.

  I was able to sneak away and talk to Hawk yesterday in the clubhouse while Dixon was chatting with Amara and Widow. I discovered Hawk knows a woman he wants to set up with Dixon, but she’s not his typical type. He usually dates Latina women, sometimes Asian but he hardly ever dates Caucasian, African-American, or any other race. Hawk believes Indra is bi-racial, but he’s not sure, she could be fully African-American. He showed me a photo of her because they’re friends on Facebook and she’s absolutely stunning.

  To me, something like race doesn’t matter. It’s about the personality of the individual and their heart. Hawk told me so many nice things about Indra, and he has an appointment with her at the end of the month to search for an engagement ring for Raven. He made me promise not to tell a soul, but he asked that Izzy and I go along with him. I’m not too close with Raven, but my job isn’t to search for the right ring. It’s to do recon on this Indra woman and see if she’d be a perfect match for our boy Dixon.

  Since Dixon has suddenly become my best friend over the last few days, I decided he would be the one to help me on this next adventure. He’s the perfect person for the job, especially since he’s single and he’s a womanizer. Somehow Chaz shoved his way for a seat at the table, but we’re interviewing women to work in the brothel. So, him showing up could result in helping.

  I had a discussion with Damon yesterday about how we could twist this from your average run of the mill prostitution ring to offering the best of the best services to a prime clientele. In Nevada it’s legal to own a brothel, however we need to mandate with state guidelines and protocols, including paying hefty fines. After Damon and I looked over the guidelines, we’ve decided we’re going to go about this the right way.

  The club mixes in a lot of other businesses from what I can tell, but this is going to be clear of any wrongdoing. In other words, it’s going to be one-hundred-percent legitimate. The house that Esme, Cirque and Mirage are in now is going to be their private home. The girls will automatically have a place to stay which is safe on the property of the club. Howeve
r, I suggested we build or buy a piece of land that’s secluded yet close to the interstate to give a sense of privacy.

  Damon agreed and even spoke to Zane who also thinks it’s a great idea. We’d be able to maximize on what the Vegas area is already known for. Now, we’re down at the strip, with three women in the hotel room we rented. Every thirty minutes we’re going to have three to five new girls come in.

  “Hi, I’m Yami. I’m twenty-three and I’m from Calabasas, California. I moved here when I was twenty-one and I don’t have any experience in a brothel, but I’m a fun little woman who can bring any man’s fantasy to life.” Yami is a Japanese woman, she’s short with slight curves, black hair and dark chocolate eyes. She looks like the typical anime style woman American men love. I’m thinking she could definitely pull off some sexy schoolgirl sets.

  When we have our location, I envision having themed rooms in the basement, with a pretty large dungeon for the kinky people who love BDSM. The second floor will have private rooms, and the first floor will be for open play and orgies.

  “Thank you. Take a step back and allow the woman standing beside you to introduce herself,” I instruct.

  The next woman takes a step forward. “I’m Fawn. I’m a twenty-six-year-old woman from Ireland and I have worked in a brothel before back home. Although, it’s under the radar since prostitution isn’t legal in my country. I specialize in threesomes, female-female scenes and I’m a submissive by nature so your clientele with dark tendencies will adore being with me.” Fawn has that natural red hair that women try to get when they go to the salon, but never can. Her figure is good, even if she is a little on the thin side, but her breasts make up for it. If I was into women, I might even fuck her. She’s automatically getting in.

  “Please do the same as Yami did,” I state, and she takes a step back while the next woman steps forward.

  “I’m Natasha. I’m twenty-four and I’ll do almost everything, except anal. I won’t do that at all, not even for the right price.” Already I can say Yami and Fawn are going to be in and the fact Natasha wants to demand things says she won’t ever make it in this industry. Men want anal, and sometimes women do too.

  “Natasha, thank you for coming today but I don’t think our brothel is going to be a good fit for you. Yami and Fawn, I’d like you both to stay.”

  Natasha huffs on her way out before shooting the two who were chosen over her a glare but I know I’ve made the right choice. These two know what is required of this job and they’ll do it. Especially Fawn. I have a feeling she’s going to be our top requested girl, given the fact she’s open to many things.

  “Fawn where did you work at?” Dixon asks.

  “The Estate,” Ah, I know the name. It’s rumored to be owned by the Irish Mafia but nothing has ever been confirmed. Only the best of the best work there. It just goes to show she knows what she’s doing and she’s automatically in.

  “Great. We’ll be giving you a call later. You’re free to go.”

  Fawn smiles from ear to ear. Meanwhile, Yami looks a bit nervous. She bites her bottom lip and gives me an expression filled with hope. “Yami, I’ll be honest. I like you even though you’re a newcomer to this industry. However, I need to know you can get the job done.”

  “I can. I assure you I can!” Yami states, determined as ever.

  While I’m sure she can, I need her to prove that she can before she starts working with our already established clientele. Right now, we have eight bedrooms at the private residence and three girls who are splitting up fifteen men, if my numbers are correct. When we get our brothel situated our clientele will most likely dramatically increase with a possible waitlist. Which means I need to get another housing arrangement situated for the girls and I need to talk about the security measures that Damon needs to have set in place.

  Every day there should be at least two of the Reapers there while the brothel is open. Or at least, in my eyes there should be. “Do you want me to fuck one of them, because I will.” Yami states, looking at Chaz and Dixon.

  “I like you, but just because I like you doesn’t mean I’ll give you the job. I need to see that you can fully satisfy every type of man that walks through those doors. Even if it’s one of the MC guys, or a client. Chaz, would you be willing to test out Yami and see if she’d be a good fit?”

  “Motherfucker!” Dixon hisses under his breath.

  Chaz stands up, all smiles and goes right up to Yami who’s already stripped out of her clothes. “What do you want big daddy? I can give you anything you like.” She giggles like a sinful little thing and Chaz throws her up against the wall, hoists her body over his and slams his cock into her.

  “I take women rough, little girl. I shove my cock inside them so fast they scream and I make them cum until they beg me to stop. Do you understand that?” He asks, rolling his fingers over her erect nipples. Fuck, I’m standing here watching wishing I was Yami and Chaz was Mouser.

  I’d give anything to have him slamming me into a wall, fucking me like a savage beast. Reminding me what it felt like the first night we were together. Goodness, how I’d give anything for that.

  I bite my bottom lip and watch the scene unfolding in front of me. At this point I’m unsure if Chaz is pleasuring Yami or vice versa. Regardless, I’m hoping Mouser gets home as soon as possible because I don’t just need him. I crave his cock inside me.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed.”

  ~ Carl Jung

  Mouser

  The ride was long and hard, but I kept pushing through until we were within eyesight of the club. Cheyenne and Cobra wanted to stop at one point, they were tired, their asses were hurtin’ and they begged for us to get a room at a local motel. Instead of entertaining the idea I took ‘em both out for a good bite to eat at some diner on the interstate.

  After an hour of hot food, warm coffee and stretchin’ our legs they were both complaining less. Don’t get me wrong I was worried about Cobra, considerin’ he’s still healing and whatnot . . . but he didn’t argue. In fact, he supported my decision that we keep goin’ on and get back to the club. Izzy was there waitin’ for him apparently and I totally understand wanting to see the woman you care about.

  All I’ve been able to think about the last couple days is Sakura, and how much I hate not being around her. It’s a little past ten at night and I spot the club from the floodlights we have situated across the property. Drivin’ down the dirt road with bits of gravel I pull up directly in front of the clubhouse and immediately look over to Sakura’s house. The light’s out and I don’t see any sign of life.

  Propping my kickstand up, I turn off the ignition at the same time I look over to Cheyenne who drove her truck all this way. I was able to put Cobra’s bike in the back of it and secured it so it wouldn’t fall over and get damaged. When I realized she had a truck and gave her the idea of travelling in the truck with Cobra, I thought she was gonna say no because women typically have a lot of shit. Cheyenne didn’t. In fact, she only had a couple duffel bags and one suitcase worth of stuff. Felt weird, but I didn’t say anything about it. Almost feels like she’s running from something, but I’m not gonna say shit. Not until I know something is factual. No use in stirring up shit when I don’t have a leg to stand on.

  Dismounting my bike, I head over to Cheyenne’s truck to see if she needs any help, offering her my hand since she’s only just opened her door. She grabs it and hops out, hitting the ground with a thud and one woman’s unmistakable laughter causes me to turn back. I glance to her house where the light is now on and she’s laughing loudly with her hand on Dixon’s chest, smiling away.

  My heart sinks into my stomach and I’m left wondering what in the ever lovin’ hell has been goin’ on since I’ve been away. Sure, she and Dixon were friendly before, but . . . this looks different.

  I realize I’m still holding Cheyenne’s
hand when she clears her throat and rips it away. “Please tell me there are some hot chicks here. That just might make up for the fact I’m in a club.”

  “I mean, yeah. We have a few girls who are hot. Esme is one of the whores, she has jet black hair, piercing eyes. Mirage has pink short hair and then there’s Cirque. She’s a blondie. Not sure if any of them are interested in snatch, though.”

  Cheyenne laughs, tossing her head back in a joyful way. “You drastically underestimate my ability to show women what they’re missing out on.”

  “Yo, let’s get goin’ so I can show you where you’re stayin’. I got my own bitch to see.” Cobra snaps at Cheyenne, leading her off.

  He’s doing a lot better than I thought he’d be doing, although I wouldn’t trade it for the world. We all thought he was a goner and I’m so thankful he made it through and none of this was any worse. Shit, it could’ve been so bad.

  Turning back, I see Sakura’s hand is now off Dixon’s body and they’re both coming my way. Sakura’s smile is still there as she runs toward me, and Dixon . . . he just seems . . . cocky. Arrogant. Like he has something to hide. Even if she and I aren’t officially something yet, I’ve made it clear we’re going to be and he’ll have to respect it.

  Sakura, Dixon and I head toward the same direction. Sakura starts to run up to me at a point and I wrap her in my arms swiftly, spin her around and crash my lips down onto hers. Skimming my hands over her lower back I plant them on her ass and walk her right up against the clubhouse. Her shoulder blades are pressed into the metal of the structure while neither of us gasp for air. We’re simply reuniting, not afraid to show anyone what there is between us. I’m really hoping she doesn’t fight what I’m about to do, because I don’t give a fuck who sees this happen and for the love of God I’m claiming her directly in front of whichever brother is around.