by Geri Glenn
That sparks some emotion. Reaper’s name obviously precedes him. I’m willing to bet that as the Sergeant at Arms for the Kings of Korruption, Reaper has struck fear into many of Ottawa’s shadier characters, Shiv being one of them. “Aw shit, Banana. I didn’t mean to hurt you. You were just being so goddamn stubborn. I thought we were friends, you and me.”
“We are not friends,” I seethe. “We’ve never been friends. I don’t know what you want from me, Shiv, but I need you to leave. I don’t want to see you in here again.”
Shiv shakes his head, as if he’s sad. “Bitch, you’re a joke, you know that? You think you’re so fuckin’ good now that you’re fuckin’ Reaper, but you’re a junkie. You’ll always be a junkie, and Reaper will toss you out with the trash soon enough.”
His words hit me like a truck. “How do you know anything about me and Reaper?”
He grins a grin that makes my blood run cold. “I know plenty about you two. I’ve been watching you, dirty girl. I wish I’d known how rough you liked it, honey. I would’ve fucked you a whole lot harder than I did that one time you let me in.”
I can’t breathe. Shiv’s been watching? But how? How does he know anything about the sex we’ve had? It’s not like we do it in the yard. I stare at him, my eyes so wide they’re starting to sting. His grin never fades.
“You get tired of Reaper tossin’ you around, you give me a call, sweetheart.” He slides a card on the table and walks out of the bar. I snatch up the card and look at it. It’s a simple plain white without a single word on it. Just a phone number.
“Hey,” I hear from a few of the customers, but I just stare at the card, my mind numb as I try to come to terms with Shiv’s words. I need to tell Reaper, but I can’t. Not yet. He’s got so much shit going on right now with the funeral and his ex, and those fucking cops. I can’t add this to the pile. I’m going to have to figure this one out on my own.
Reaper
I grip the phone so tight, the plastic frame creaks and threatens to buckle. “Laurie, I’ve left you five fuckin’ messages in the last three days. You can’t find the decency to call me back, I’ll show you the same respect when I tell you your fuckin’ mother died. She’s dead, Laurie. Died three goddamn days ago and nobody could reach your trashy ass to tell you. Funeral’s tomorrow afternoon at one, at Fulton’s. Come or not, I don’t give a shit. Now you know.” And with that, I hang up.
“I hate you had to do that,” Anna says from where she’s lying in my bed. “It’s terrible she left you no choice.”
“It’s her problem now,” I say, striding toward her. Her eyes widen as my knees hit the bed and I crawl toward her. I don’t know what it is about this woman, but she’s like a goddamn siren to me. In just a few days, she’s become my only place of comfort, of oblivion. She gives herself to me without question or expectation, and I can’t get enough of her.
“Take off your shirt,” I say, watching as her cheeks flush. She does as she’s told, her hands going to the hem of the T-shirt I’d given her to wear, and my heartbeat stutters a little as her breasts come into view. Sitting in front of me, wearing nothing but a tiny pair of white panties and a flush that covers her face and chest, she takes my breath away.
I hold her stare as I reach forward and hook my finger through the tiny slip of fabric that hides her sweet pussy from view. I want her bare, exposed. Mine.
The thought gives me pause. With all the shit I have going on right now, I can’t afford to think that way. I can’t afford to think about what it means, that the word mine would even float through my fucked up mind when it comes to Anna. Not now. I don’t want to think about anything but burying myself inside her and forgetting it all.
With a yank and a flick of my wrist, the delicate seam of her panties tear and separate, leaving nothing but tattered fabric hanging from her hips. Her pussy is shiny and wet from her arousal, and her body trembles as I take it all in.
“Knees apart,” I order, barely able to control my own voice. Anna’s breath hitches as she moves her feet wide apart, opening herself up to me even more. I place my index finger just above her clit and hold her gaze as I slowly drag it down through her folds, stopping at her entrance.
“You like it when I touch your pussy, baby?” Anna gasps and nods, her chest heaving as she stares back at me with hooded eyes. “Tell me.”
“I like it.” Her voice is a quivering whisper, and it makes every last drop of blood I have in my body rush straight to my cock.
I hold myself still, though, and slip my finger inside of her. Her soft groan fills the air as her silky walls squeeze my finger. I watch her as I slowly slip it in and out, purposely grazing the perfect tiny spot inside of her that will make her crumble around me in a matter of seconds.
“You like it when I put my fingers inside of you?”
She moans and her hips sway, as her eyes fall closed. “Yes,” she gasps.
I stop my movements. “Stay still, and keep your eyes on me, Anna.”
Her eyes flutter open, and the heat in them has me wanting to stop with the games and just bury every inch of myself inside her, but I don’t. Instead, I add a second finger, then a third.
Her body trembles now as we stare into each other’s eyes, my fingertips working her pussy faster and harder with every stroke. “What else do you want me to do with this pretty pussy, baby?”
Her mouth opens, but no sound comes out. I can feel her inner walls tremble. “Tell me,” I growl, not ready for this to end just yet.
“Put your mouth on me, Lucas,” she gasps. “I need your tongue.”
I never stop fucking her with my fingers as I growl and dive down, wrapping my lips around that pink, swollen clit, sucking it deep and flicking it with my tongue. Her entire body quivers as I devour her. I hum deep in my throat as I pull my lips away with a loud suck and blow on her sensitive bud. She gasps softly as her fingers spear themselves into my hair, her hand forcing my face back down.
Flattening my tongue, I lap at her, collecting her arousal in my mouth. Her moans and pants make my cock feel like it’s about to explode at any moment. Her hands move to either side of my head and she holds it firmly, her hips rolling as her moans get louder and her hips buck. It’s gone from me face fucking her pussy, to her pussy fucking my face, and I happily oblige.
When she finally falls over the edge, her hands grip my hair, her hips grind against me, and her pussy clutches my fingers, as if she’ll never let me go. I’m her captive as she rides this one out, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I keep at her, licking, sucking, and thrusting my fingers as she quivers and shakes, her moans turning to screams of pleasure and release.
When she finishes, I pull my face back and stare up at her. Her eyes are wide and her smile is slow but blinding. “Jesus Christ,” she pants, her hand falling to her chest.
“Don’t get too comfy, sweetheart,” I say. Rising to my knees, I position my cock at her entrance. “That was just the appetizer.”
Anna
I stand off to the side of the room, nibbling my lip as I try to act calm. I feel anything but calm right now, though. I hate funerals, even for people I’ve never met. When Reaper had asked me to come along for support, I agreed without hesitation, but now that we’re here, and I see all the people that have come out to bid Sharon farewell, my addiction is back full force.
I’ve missed a week’s worth of meetings. Between work and Reaper, I haven’t made it to any of them this past week, and to be honest, I’ve barely noticed. There’s never a dull moment at the bar, and Reaper keeps me plenty busy when we’re together. But now, the sadness in the air weighs on me. I feel the need to take something like I feel the need to breathe. It’s overwhelming.
“Anna,” Reaper calls, motioning me forward.
I move through the throng of people to where he stands beside the casket, and my eyes widen when I see several members of the Kings standing before him, my sister included. Charlotte grabs my hand and tugs me forward into her embrace, he
r basketball of a belly pressing into me.
“It’s good of you to be here for him,” she whispers, squeezing me tightly. “He won’t admit it, but I think he needs you today.”
I nod and pull away, taking a step back to Reaper’s side. His hand snakes around my waist and I stand with him as he greets the next group of people coming down the line, one by one. The lineup is never-ending, and we stay that way forever, the faces blurring as they pass.
“Oh, my God!” The wail of sorrow comes from a few people down the line and directly in front of the casket. I can’t see who it is, but Reaper’s entire being stiffens at the voice and I know instantly who it belongs to. “Oh, Mom. Oh…”
The crowd parts as everyone turns to watch the beautiful woman weeping over her dead mother’s body. Her long dark hair drapes down her back in an artfully messy ponytail, and her mascara is in perfect condition, despite the tears.
Reaper takes a step toward her, his arm abandoning his hold on me, and I watch uncomfortably as she throws herself into his arms. He places his hands on her shoulders, but his face is like stone. I’m not jealous necessarily, but this woman and Reaper share a past. And right now, they share a sorrow that I can’t begin to understand.
It only lasts a minute before Reaper grips her shoulders and gently pushes her back, his jaw hardening as his eyes drop to her very pregnant belly. She looks like she could burst at any moment.
“Jesus Christ,” Reaper mutters, his gaze glued to her baby bump. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
He doesn’t say another word. He just walks out of the room and is gone from sight, leaving me standing there with his ex-wife who looks like she’s about to break down in tears.
“Are you his girlfriend?” she asks, her voice wavering a little as she stands up straight, the sadness on her face replaced with contempt.
“No,” I say, taking a step back. “Just a friend. I’ll let you do the receiving line now that you’re here.”
I’m gone before she can respond. I don’t know if she’s going to do her daughterly duty and stand beside her mother or not, but the discomfort of that whole situation has me itching to get my hands on anything. At this point, I’d happily just take some damn codeine to make this feeling go away.
Reaper’s ex-wife is pregnant. After aborting the baby they’d created together in their marriage, she shows up after all these years, carrying another child. I can’t even imagine how that sight made him feel.
I step outside and see Ryker and some of the others standing around, talking, but no Reaper. “You guys know where Reaper went?” I ask, not quite sure what these guys think of me and Reaper spending time together.
Tease points a finger to the far side of the building. “He went that way, but I think he wants to be alone.”
I ignore the warning in his voice and head in that direction. I walk all the way to the back of the building and find him leaning against the wall, one knee cocked up, his foot resting on the brick behind him.
“Are you okay?” I ask as I get closer.
He’s not. His face is void of all emotion, his eyes cold and hard. “I’m fine,” he bites out.
I don’t even know what to say to him, so I just rest my back against the wall beside him and stand there quietly, in case he decides he needs to talk.
“Look, Anna, I just wanna be left the fuck alone for a while, okay. I can’t deal with you or anyone else right now.”
I get it, kind of. But those words take a toll on me. They hurt, but I don’t argue. What could I say? Instead, I push off from the wall and walk away.
Reaper
The bitch is fucking pregnant. I’d thought the days of being hurt by that selfish woman were over, but seeing her round with a child, the way I’d expected to find her all those years ago after my tour had sucked the air right out of my lungs. “Fuck,” I roar, turning and slamming my fist into the jagged brick of the building.
I feel a couple knuckles pop with the force, and I know blood is trailing down my hand, but I don’t give a shit. My anger is all I can see, all I can feel. I feel like it’s fucking consuming me, and I don’t know how to pull out of it.
I want to go back in there and scream at Laurie for being a shitty daughter and a shitty wife, and most importantly, a shitty human fucking being. I want to shake her and demand to know who’s baby she’s carrying and why they’re so fucking special that she didn’t feel the need to murder their child too.
“FUCK!” I scream again, and this time when I punch the wall, the rest of my knuckles pop. This time the pain registers. My hand throbs in time with my heartbeat, fast and aggressive.
“What’d that wall do to you?” Ryker asks, coming from around the corner. I glare at him, but don’t answer. “Bosco just drove Anna home,” he says. “She looked pretty upset.”
“Fuck Anna,” I snarl.
“From what I hear, you’ve been doin’ plenty of that lately,” Ryker replies, his hands resting on his hips.
“This a goddamn intervention?” I ask. “I’ve got my own shit to deal with right now, Ryk. I don’t need you comin’ in and playin’ fuckin’ marriage counsellor between me and your junkie sister-in-law.”
Ryker’s eyes widen. He didn’t know about the drugs. I’d just let the proverbial cat out of the bag and I almost feel bad for a minute, until the vision of Laurie’s swollen belly flashes through my mind again.
“That’s right,” I snarl. “I suggest you have a chat with her because there’s a whole lot of shit you don’t know.”
“I don’t know what’s goin’ on,” he says, his eyes flashing with anger, “but you’re bein’ a dick, and Anna’s the first woman in a long time to catch your attention and is able to fuckin’ stand your ornery ass, so I suggest you cool the fuck down and deal with your shit before you lose her, like I almost lost her sister.”
His heavy footfalls thump against the pavement as he walks away, and though I’d heard his words, I don’t give them another thought. I have two choices right now, the way I see it. I can go back in there and send off my mother-in-law with the rest of her loved ones, meaning I’d have to face Laurie, or I can get the hell out of here and let her handle it on her own.
I let my eyes fall closed and I take a deep breath. I can’t leave. I fucking organized this whole damn thing, and Sharon would expect me to see it through. She’d expect me to fix things with her daughter. I can’t do that last one, but I can do the first.
When I come around to the front of the building, the guys from my club are there, each and every fucking one of them. And when I start toward the entrance, they fall in line behind me without a word, having my back, like always.
I walk inside and take my place beside Laurie, glad to see that the line has grown considerably shorter since I’d left.
“Are you okay?” Laurie whispers.
“You and me got not one thing to say to each other, woman. I’m here for your mother, not for you.”
I hear her suck in a breath, but she knows better than to cause a scene. It could be the large group of bikers standing off to my right, but I think she just has a good sense of self-preservation.
Once everyone from the lineup has paid their respects, they all take their seats at the back of the room. There’s a seat set up for me, right beside Laurie, but I don’t take it. I find a seat at the back with my club and watch as the casket is closed and the pastor delivers his sermon.
The funeral is short and sweet. The memory of Sharon is honored in the best possible way, and I know she’d be happy with how it all turned out. I feel numb as the pastor speaks, sharing witty stories about the woman I’d loved like a mother. When he finishes, I shake what feels like a hundred more hands, accept a hundred more condolences, and watch as everyone, including my club, file outside.
When all that’s left in the room is a closed casket, myself, and Laurie, the funeral director approaches. “That went well,” he says, his voice just above a whisper. I can only nod. “So just to confirm, the cremation will
take place tomorrow morning, and the remains will be available for burial in two days’ time. Mrs. Welland has a plot with her former husband, and I can arrange a private internment whenever you’re ready.”
I nod and point at Laurie. “That there is Sharon’s daughter. She’ll take care of the rest of the details, and I’ll arrange for payment from the estate.”
The director’s brows raise, but he only nods. I hear a small protest from Laurie, but I don’t give her a second glance. I just walk outside, climb on my Harley and drive away. I watch from my rearview as Belanger runs to his car to try and catch me, but I round the corner before he even gets the door open.
Anna
It’s been over a month since the funeral, and I haven’t seen or heard from Reaper since that day. Ryker tells me he’s gone on a run and is likely just clearing his head, but that doesn’t soothe the ache in my chest. I feel abandoned and alone.
I’ve tried my best to keep busy. My program at the esthetics school started three weeks ago, and even though it’s been a lot to learn, I’m loving every minute of it. I’ve tried to attend one Narcotics Anonymous meeting a day whenever possible.
Things with Ryker have been a little better after I came clean about my addiction. I didn’t have much choice after Reaper sold me out and told him I was a junkie. I think that part hurt more than anything. Not just that he told him my secret, but that he still thinks of me as just a junkie. I thought we’d moved past that, but apparently not.
When I started school, Ryker and Jase got their hands on a cute little Toyota and fixed it up for me. It served two amazing purposes. One, the club was no longer responsible for carting my ass around, and two, I’ve gained some much-needed independence. Besides the big gaping hole Reaper’s left in his absence, things have actually been going really well.
Another hobby I’ve taken on these past few weeks is following Shiv. I can’t prove it, but I know there’s a connection between his harassment of me and the cop that’s been after the Kings. I’ve said as much to Ryker, but he doesn’t agree.
