Reaper’s Property

by Kathryn Thomas

  I was serious. She could joke about it, but I didn’t only care about the baby. She meant something to me, even if we didn’t know which way we were headed yet, and I wanted her safe so we could have the opportunity to decide together.

  “I don’t know what we’re doing,” Hazel admitted.

  I shook my head. “We’ll figure it out when this is over. For now, let’s stay safe.”

  Hazel nodded. “If this doesn’t work out, I’m canceling the show. I don’t want Amy in danger if we can help it and I don’t care about my reputation as an artist. Not above my life. I’ll let you look at your ways of dealing with it, but I can’t risk Amy’s life.”

  I nodded. It made sense, and it was so good to see that she cared for my daughter as much as she did.

  “You will do your show if I have a say in it. It will be good for you both. But you’re right, safety first and this is not a joke. I’ll be honest with you about where we stand and what’s happening. I’m going to head out later today. I want you and Amy to stay here, lock the doors and keep safe.”

  Hazel agreed. “We’ll have a girls’ day – painting nails and watching rom-coms. I want to take her mind off the drama as well.”

  I smiled and kissed Hazel on the forehead.

  “This is the kind of thing I can’t offer her as a father. I don’t know anything about doing nails or hair, and I’d rather die than watch a boy-meets-girl scenario on TV. You’re helping me so much.”

  Hazel shrugged, smiling. It was still early in the day, but I was sure it would turn out to be a great day for them. I hoped it would turn out great for me, too.

  I needed to find Emmerson Blake.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I left the house after breakfast, making sure Amy was alright first before I set out. She looked happy to do a girls’ day with Hazel, and I went to the shops to buy them snacks for their movie day. When I left for the Reapers’ Club House, I was happy that the girls were safe and taken care of.

  “You’ve been scarce,” Hollis said when I walked in.

  “I had something to take care of. What’s news on the streets?”

  I was more comfortable in the club. It was an old pub that we’d bought and renovated to work for us. There were two rooms for any members who needed protection from something and a place to stay for a few nights. We had a fully kitted out kitchen and two offices for admin. This world was one I understood, where I was in charge, and when I snapped my fingers, my men jumped.

  I was out of my depth when it came to being a family man, being Amy’s dad in the full sense of the word. I was glad Amy had Hazel to help her get through this, as well as the normal ups and downs of being a teenager.

  Hollis filled me in on what had been happening. The men had steadily reported back over the past few days, but the information was nothing useful. Maxwell was keeping a low profile. There had been no more murders that the men had found before the police had. Skulls were still appearing on art all over, but the art had started to dwindle after the first artist had been offed. They were cautious now, taking heed of the threats.

  “Where are the old files I asked you to clear out?” I asked Hollis. “Did you get rid of them?”

  “I didn’t think you wanted me to,” Hollis replied. “I put them in the back room. Do you want me to burn them?”

  I shook my head. “No, I need them. You did well.”

  Hollis seemed to relax a little. He was a good guy for a biker, obedient and loyal. He was a bit of a lightweight, but it would change the longer he was with us.

  I walked to the backroom and found the old files. I worked through them until I found a scrap piece of paper with a number scribbled on it. That was it; there was nothing more. No name or anything else. But I knew I had found the right number – that is if Emmerson hadn’t changed his contact details.

  I dialed the number and pressed the phone to my ear. The phone rang long enough that I thought I would be connected to his voicemail, but then a gruff voice interrupted the calling tone.

  “What?” he snapped.

  “Emmerson. It’s Logan. From the Valley Reapers.”

  “I know who you are.” He didn’t sound very approachable. But I had to make this happen.

  “I need to see you,” I said. “Someone’s killing on my turf, and I need intel.”

  “Why should I help you?”

  “Because he’s after my daughter.”

  I knew Emmerson would agree to that. He had lost a child to gang violence. It was the reason he was who he was today.

  “I’ll meet you outside the old church at one,” Emmerson said, and the line went dead.

  I knew what he was talking about. The old church was run-down and neglected, a place that was everything but holy now. It was a creepy place, and everyone avoided it if they could. But it was right up Emmerson’s alley, and it was typical for him to choose somewhere so intimidating. I didn’t have a choice, I had to go. I had to see him and put an end to this.

  Emmerson had been the Vice President of the Valley Reapers shortly after I had become a member. He had been tough as nails, impossible to impress, and everyone had feared him more than they had feared the president himself.

  Back then, the Reapers had had a whole different code of honor. It was more about every man for himself, and when Emmerson’s life had become a living hell with his son being killed, he hadn’t had a family in the men that he could turn to. He had become a terror, with no mercy, and the Reapers had become feared by all. It was thanks to Emmerson that we still had the reputation of terror, even though things had changed in the years since Emmerson had been VP.

  Still, a man who had survived something like that deserved to be respected. And Emmerson was an old-school biker, the kind of man that had defined the term.

  Since Emmerson’s kid was killed, he had ended up in prison. He had been in and out so many times it had become a second home. Not only had it added to his reputation, and everyone had feared him more, but he had made unlikely friends. I knew he still had his ear to the ground, the contacts still in his pocket, and I was relying on that.

  I needed him to help me find out who Maxwell was and if he worked with anyone. If anyone else were in on this, helping Maxwell out, Emmerson would know about it. I needed all the information I could get if I were going to nail this guy. He had fucked with my people for long enough, and I wanted all the dirt on him so I could take him down.

  I got on my bike shortly after twelve, leaving the club and weaving my way through the city. I kept my eyes open. On the way, I came across graffiti. The pieces all had white skulls in the corner. It was a trend now – obvious that something was up to anyone paying attention. It was too uniform to be a coincidence. I noticed it wasn’t only in one area either. It was still mostly my turf, so Maxwell was stepping on my toes, but he was targeting artists all over.

  When I reached the church, I parked my bike on the curb and sat back, looking around. It wasn’t a great area, and the streets were deserted, with trashed blowing around. I had the feeling I was being watched. I kept my eyes open, hoping I would spot something sinister, but it was the church. It gave everyone the creeps, even the toughest bikers. Everyone but Emmerson Blake.

  He arrived ten minutes after I did. His Harley Davidson roared through the streets, announcing his presence. If there were anyone around, I was sure they would cower.

  Emmerson stopped in front of me and turned off his bike. He wore sunglasses and a leather cap over his gray hair. He wore black fingerless gloves on his hands, and he was clad in all leather. He didn’t wear the Valley Reapers patches anymore. Instead, he wore a solid black leather vest that matched his pants.

  When Emmerson climbed off his bike and walked toward me, I was aware of his authority. I was the leader of my MC and Emmerson had no gang to call his own, but there was no question who was in charge.

  “Hello, Logan,” Emmerson said.

  He didn’t extend a hand in greeting. I hadn’t expected him to. Standing in fro
nt of me, Emmerson was as large as I remembered. He was easily a whole head taller than I was and twice as broad. He was muscular and upright despite his age. A biker never got old.

  “What can I do for you?” Emmerson asked.

  We sat down on the low wall that surrounded the church, and I told him about the skull, the threat on the artists.

  “I’ve heard of the threats,” Emmerson said. Of course, he had. I would have been disappointed if he hadn’t. “But this isn’t my game. What do you want me to do about it?”

  “Maxwell is a jailbird. I need to find out if he has any contacts, in or out. Anyone who’s working with him.”

  Emmerson looked at me, his face unreadable with the wrap-around shades covering his eyes. “They’re threatening your daughter?”

  I nodded. “And the woman carrying my child.”

  Something flickered over Emmerson’s face too fast to read. “Give me twenty-four hours. If you can keep them safe that long.”

  I wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic. I had been a greenhorn when Emmerson had been in power. But if he knew everything the way I believed he did, he knew who I was and what I was capable of.

  “Twenty-four hours is fine,” I said. “I appreciate the help.”

  “This isn’t for you. It’s for Jackson.”

  Jackson was Emmerson’s son. Emmerson didn’t want Amy to follow the same path.

  I nodded, understanding.

  “I’ll be in touch,” Emmerson said, walking to his bike again.

  He didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t even look at me. He switched on the bike which coughed to life with a growl and pulled away. I was left behind, feeling like I had been dismissed. But if anyone could help me out, it was Emmerson.

  I looked around, taking a deep breath and letting the air out slowly. I was lucky Emmerson had decided to help me at all. Now that he didn’t have to answer to anyone, he lived by a set of rules that no one knew. It had been a gamble asking him to help me, but it was for Amy’s sake. If it hadn’t been for her, he wouldn’t have cared.

  But then, none of this would have been happening.

  My scalp prickled as if someone was watching me and I turned around. I had been watched enough in my life to know what it felt like and to know that I hated it when someone was watching me when I wasn’t aware. The church stood looming behind me, covered in shadows despite the sunshine. The stained glass windows were mostly intact, and I couldn’t see through them very well.

  I caught movement inside despite the colored glass and jumped up. If someone was watching me, they were going to pay.

  I ran toward the church, pushing against a door that was already open a crack. Dust curled in the church, creating clouds of disturbance. I looked around. The light fell through the stained glass window in different beams of color. There was no sign that anyone had been in here in years.

  I was being jumpy, paranoid. The location Emmerson had chosen gave me the chills, and I had been nervous Emmerson wouldn’t help. That was all. There was no one here.

  I turned around, pulling the door shut again as I had found it. I couldn’t let my nerves get the better of me. Amy and Hazel deserved me being vigilant, keeping it together for them. I had Earl and Emmerson in my corner now. I wouldn’t let anything happen to my women, and I would stop Maxwell from tormenting those under my protection if I could help it.

  But those I couldn’t help were what made me anxious. I was a strong leader. I had an MC, a cop and a legend on my side, but I was still only a man. And I was worried that I would fail my people.

  I shook off the thought. I couldn’t think like this, couldn’t afford to lose focus and let fear consume me. That was a sure way to get killed, and without me, the people I loved would be vulnerable. No, I was a badass motherfucker, tough as nails, impossible to get rid of, and I was going to succeed.

  With renewed confidence, I walked back to my bike, climbed on, and left the creepy church and the haunted area behind.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I drove back to the club to ensure my men were safe and kept busy before I headed back home. I had tried to phone Hazel, but she hadn’t answered, and I was nervous something had gone wrong. I hoped it was nothing, that she had merely left her phone in the room, but the nervousness ate at me. If something happened to them… No, I refused to think about it.

  I parked the bike in front of the house, switched it off and climbed the steps to the front door. When I unlocked, I heard the sound of the television and the girls talking. Relief flooded through me, and I breathed a sigh of relief. They were safe.

  “I’m back,” I said.

  “Hey, Dad,” Amy said when I joined them in the living room. “Look.” She held up her colorful nails.

  I looked at Hazel, who was smiling. “It looks awesome, sweetheart,” I said, sitting down. “Did you have a good day?”

  Amy nodded.

  I smiled at Hazel. They both looked relaxed. That was what I wanted. I wanted them to be able to calm down and know that I would keep them safe.

  “How was your expedition?” Hazel asked.

  “Fruitful,” I replied.

  I had good news, but I didn’t want to talk to Hazel about it in front of Amy. Amy didn’t deserve to hear about the ugly side of life, no matter whose daughter she was. Not yet. Things had been hard enough for her.

  “I’m glad,” Hazel said. “We’re going to put on another movie. Watch with us?”

  I agreed. “As long as it’s not a chick flick.”

  They chose Die Hard, a classic that everyone loved. I sat with them, staring at the screen but it was hard to concentrate. My mind was on everything I needed to do, on keeping Amy and Hazel safe, on defending my turf.

  The movie was almost finished when my phone rang with an unknown number.

  “Yeah?” I answered.

  “You’re being followed,” Emmerson’s rough voice came over the line.

  Hazel looked at me. I didn’t know what my face showed, but she frowned.

  I got up and left the room. “Followed home?”

  “Someone was at the church when we met. I took a drive back after our meeting and found Christopher Maxwell outside on the curb. He bolted when I saw him.”

  “I thought I wasn’t alone, but I didn’t see anyone when I investigated.”

  “He won’t be so easy to find if he doesn’t want to be. He has a reputation in the prisons and on the streets.”

  “First time I’ve heard of him.”

  Emmerson chuckled. I didn’t think I’d ever heard him laugh before. “That doesn’t mean anything, son. Keep an eye out.”

  “Thanks, Emmerson. I’ll be on the lookout for trouble. Keep me posted.”

  Emmerson hung up without saying goodbye, and I stared at the phone in my hand. Maxwell had been there all along. I’d thought I’d seen someone, but the church had seemed undisturbed. What else did he know, what else did he see, when I didn’t know he was watching?

  “Is everything alright?” Hazel asked, coming into the room.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I met with an old friend earlier. He let me know Maxwell followed me.”

  Hazel’s face changed, the panic prominent. “You’re in danger.”

  I shook my head. “Nothing is going to happen to me.”

  “You don’t know that. What if you get hurt?”

  She was panicked about it, and even though I hated that she was in this position, it meant a lot to me that she cared so much.

  “I don’t want to lose you, Logan,” she added. “I’ve become attached to you. I don’t know where we’re headed, but I can’t lose you, not now that I’m having a baby. I don’t want to do this without you.”

  I pulled Hazel into my arms. “You’re not going to lose me. I don’t want to leave you either, and we’re going to figure this out. Alright?”

  Her arms were around my waist, her head on my chest, and I felt her nod.

  “I hate that this affects you and Amy, too. You’re not even an artist.�
� I shook my head.

  Hazel pulled away a little and looked up at me.

  “I don’t care,” I went on. “For you, for Amy, I would get involved anytime. This is more than just about artists anyway. It’s my turf. It’s someone making kills for no good reason, and it has to stop.”

  Hazel nodded. “I’m worried about you getting hurt. I’m worried about all of us.”

  “Don’t be.”

  Hazel and I weren’t officially dating. We were together through circumstance more than anything else, and I didn’t know if this was love. I was wary of love after what had happened with Amy’s mother. But this felt damn close to love, and if I thought about losing Hazel, whether it was to this tyrant on the street or merely because she wasn’t interested in being with me, it created a dull ache in my chest that made me think what I felt for her was a lot more serious than I had first thought.