by Simone Elise
He was actually going to give me painkillers? What had changed?
“Right. Thanks, Jeff. You know your way out,” Jake said nicely. Jeff left, leaving me alone with Jake.
“You feeling like you can walk?”
I sat up on the bed. How did I get here? “Hold on a minute. How did I get on the bed?”
“I carried you.”
“You touched me?”
“Yes.”
One question ran through my mind. “Why?” Why didn’t he just leave me on the floor and lock me in here?
“Because you were sick,” he said slowly, as if I was stupid.
“But you shouldn’t care about that. Hell, why didn’t you just leave me there to bleed out? At least then you could claim I died of natural causes.”
An expression captured his face and I couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Regret? Grief? I tilted my head, studying him.
“I have a woman who does my shopping. She comes today. Write a list and I’ll make sure she gets you what you want.”
Did he have a split personality?
“I don’t want anything.” I didn’t expect anything from him. Nor did I want anything.
“Right?” He arched his eyebrows at me. “Because I can think of a list of shit you need, like clothes for one.”
“No point changing when I’m going to die anyway.” I sat upright on the bed. But he was right. I did need feminine products, considering I was bleeding.
“Come on, you can write a list downstairs.” He gestured for me to follow him. He sat my pills on the dresser beside the bed.
I followed him downstairs, surprised to see the house clean. The table wasn’t covered in beer bottles and cards.
“This is the main living room. Guess you know that. The formal sitting room is through there.” He pointed his arm toward a room beside large, arched double doors. We came to a stop in the kitchen. It was all open living, walking through the dining room into the kitchen. “Pen and paper.” He picked them up from the kitchen island and put them in front of me. “She only comes once a week so don’t forget anything.”
I stared down at the notepad and pen as he walked around me and went to leave.
“Wait, do you want me to do the grocery list as well?” I turned and said to him. I was usually in charge of cooking his meals.
“Nah, that’s pre-done.” He stopped and I could hear a phone vibrating. He patted his pockets down.
“OK.” I turned back to the notepad and picked up the pen. I guess I could spend his money. So I started the list.
***
There was something about Billy that reminded me of Dad. Maybe it was his short responses and the fact he grunted more than spoke. When he did speak, it was short answers, and he ate like he hadn’t seen food in his life.
I took my eyes off the poker game and went back to the pork I was cooking. My supplies arrived this afternoon. I admit it was nice to be in a fresh change of clothes that wasn’t covered in blood from the beatings.
I caught a reflection of myself in the mirrored splashback. God, I looked terrible. I had bruising under my eye and down my jaw, and a cut lip. But that was nothing to the bruises that covered my body.
I killed the heat on the stove and dished up the meat and veggies onto three plates.
Billy, Andrew and Jake.
Billy and Andrew were always here, either playing poker or doing drugs. I took the plates to the table and then got knives and forks.
“Dinner is ready,” I said to them.
Jake looked up from the game. “Dinner, boys.”
They got up and I sank down at the opposite end of the table with a glass of water.
“Not eating, Abby?”
I looked up from my glass of water at Jake.
“Not hungry.”
I was thirsty for something stronger than water but I didn’t dare touch his liquor.
“Well, do something useful and get me a beer.” He started to cut up his meat and I got back up.
I was like his housewife and, as I snuck a glance at him, I swear he was enjoying it.
I grabbed a beer and took off the cap and put it in front of him. I went to walk away but his arm snaked out and grabbed me by the waist, pulling me down to his lap.
“Thirsty, are we?” His hot breath ran up my neck.
Reaper was the only man I wanted touching me. My eyes flashed to my wedding ring. Why hadn’t he found me yet?
I nodded my head.
“Here, have something stronger than water.” He picked up the beer and handed it to me. Was he serious? I looked at him, frowning. By the calm expression on his face, I saw he was serious.
My fingers wrapped around the cold beer and took it from him.
“Good girl.” He smiled at me, a sick kind of smile, like I was his girl. I was Reaper’s. “Isn’t she beautiful, boys?” He reached up and gripped my chin, making me look at him, his face inches from mine. “Don’t know how Reaper ended up with someone as gorgeous and captivating as you.” He let go of my chin and went back to cutting up his meat while I sat on his lap and drank his beer.
God help me.
I felt a buzzing on my thigh.
“Hop up, would you, sweetheart.” He moved his arm and I was off him like he was burning me, taking the beer with me.
Jake looked down at his phone. “Got to go to the post office box. Apparently it is backed up.” Jake took a mouthful of food and got up, looking at me. “Thanks for dinner, sweetheart.”
Sick, I felt sick every time he called me a sweet name. Every time he looked at me like that, like I was his.
I didn’t know what Reaper was doing. I didn’t know if he was coming. But I hoped to god he was because I knew one day that look would turn into something more, and I hoped I was dead before that happened.
***
Reaper
I lit up a cigarette and sat back in one of the living room couches. Kim had brought in another crib and I had dragged it into the rec room with me. It was one of the rare times the club was quiet. The boys were out collecting money. We’d raided the last of the cookhouses today.
I found one guy who seemed to be in charge. I flexed my knuckles, looking at them. They were still bleeding. I should really put ice on them. The only information I got from him was only two men knew Jake’s address. But he didn’t know their names.
I sucked on my cigarette and watched my son sleep peacefully.
My mind was consumed with one question. How the fuck was Abby? Something was telling me she needed me more now than ever and I couldn’t get to her. Every path I took was a dead end.
It was beyond frustrating.
The situation was causing my temper to be uncontrollable. I thought I had gotten most of it out on that guy this morning. But I was still tense with rage. I wanted Jake. I wanted my hands around his throat. I had pictured how I was going to kill him so many times. Every night a new way of doing it came to me.
My phone started to ring and I cursed. Fuck, if that woke Tyson, I swore whoever ringing would be a dead man.
“Hello?” I barked into the phone.
“A black four by four just pulled up at the post office box. We’re waiting to see who gets out.” Jace, who had been sharing shifts with a few other members, gave me the news I had been waiting for.
I got up, knocking over my beer, which was on the floor, and quickly walked through the living room and dining room.
“KIM!” I yelled taking the phone away from my mouth. “KIM!!” I shouted walking through the bar.
“Yeah, he just got out, Reaper. It’s him. What do you want us to do?”
Fuck, where was Kim?
I couldn’t just leave Tyson.
“Hold on a sec. Someone else just pulled up.”
I didn’t give a fuck. He was there. That was all that mattered.
“KIM! FUCK IT, ANYONE!”
Of all times for the clubhouse to be empty, this just h
ad to be one of them. Fuck it. What did I do?
“Looks like it is someone who works there. He just unlocked the door and they are going in,” Jace said.
“ANYONE!” I yelled.
Then I heard a door slam.
“What the hell, Reaper!” Kim ran down the stairs.
Thank Christ.
“Watch Tyson. He is in the rec room.” I patted myself down for the keys to my bike while still on the phone.
“Where are you going?” Kim yelled at me but I was already running for the door.
It, of course, happened to happen on one of the days there were no members around. Fuck it. I shouldn’t have sent them all out.
“What are they doing?” I said mounting my bike.
“They’re in the post office.”
“Don’t lose them. I’m coming.” I hung up and put my phone in my pocket. Starting my bike, I took off. I’m coming, Abby. I’m fucking coming. And when I got my hands around that man’s neck, I was going to make sure he had a slow death. I was going to enjoy every second of it.
The man took my wife, the mother of my kid. I was going to make sure his death was painful and long.
Chapter 8
Jake
“How much?” I asked Andrew as he threw the last of the cash into one of the four black duffel bags. I pulled the cigarette from my mouth, wondering just how much I had made this take. It was our busy season and we had been pumping out double the amount of ice.
“Anywhere between two to four mill.” Andrew zipped up the last duffel bag. “Not bad.”
“Yeah, now just to pay who is owed and then this money can set up the next run.” I handed Grant the money we owed him for storing it. “Let’s get out of here. I have a pretty blonde at home who will be waiting for me.” A smirk graced my lips. The fact she belonged to Reaper just made it more enjoyable and that bit sweeter.
“How long you going to keep it breathing?” Andrew grumbled. “Biker trash.”
“She might be that, but she is also stunning.” Even with the bruises I had inflicted on her and her cut lip, there was only one word to describe Abby and that was beautiful, drop-dead gorgeous. I still didn’t know how a woman like her could end up with a serial killer. But I guess all women like a taste of something dark.
But, when it came to Reaper, that man just wasn’t human.
Why would a sweet girl like Abby go for that? It was really her undoing because being with him was going to cause her an early death. Pity, really.
“She is,” Andrew admitted, giving me a sly smile. I had noticed the way he looked at her when he thought I wasn’t watching. “Let’s go, then. So you can get back to your play toy.”
“Grant, as always, it’s been a pleasure.” I shook his hand and followed Andrew out. He stopped, looking across the road. Stupid fool! I walked straight into him, causing me to drop two duffel bags.
“Fuck it, Andrew! What is your problem?” I cursed and pushed him in the back.
“See that van. It was here when we pulled up.” Andrew pointed across the road, dropping his duffel bags and pulling out his gun. And then I heard it. The Harley pipes coming around the corner.
“FUCK IT!” I pulled my gun out of the waist of my jeans. But the men in the van were already out and firing bullets from across the road. We took cover behind the post office.
“We need to get to the car.” Andrew pulled another gun out of his leg holster. “I’ll cover you. They’re reloading.”
“Hear that,” I said, a twisted smile gracing my lips. “The Reaper is here.”
Andrew shook his head at me. “Only you would get excited about being chased by a serial killer.”
“Alright, let’s do this.” I got up and looked at the money that had been abandoned on the sidewalk. “Fuck it. No way we are getting that cash.”
“Fuck the money,” Andrew shouted. “Hurry up and get ready to run.”
That was setup money. That money was needed. I wasn’t leaving it behind.
“JAKE, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU GOING?”
I rounded the corner and headed for the cash, one gun raised. Andrew was quick to follow. They were still reloading. Andrew reached the back end of the car and took shelter there and started firing bullets at them while I got the cash.
Then I saw him coming around the front of the car. I raised my gun but it was too late. I felt the bullet go through the arm holding onto the bag. Fuck it. Dropping the bag, my gun, I grasped my arm. That was a cheap shot.
“WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE, JAKE?”
I laughed and went to pick up the gun I had dropped. Knowing the crazy fool, he wouldn’t be wearing a vest. It was within my grasp when he tackled me.
My head hit the pavement as his fist connected with my jaw, over and over. I couldn’t help the laughter that came out. One hand was wrapped around my neck as he held me in place while his fist let out some of the frustration I was sure he was feeling.
I coughed up some blood and smiled at him. “Funny part is, Reaper, if you kill me, you will never know.”
The look in his eyes told me he was only thinking of ways of getting the information out of me. And I was somewhat interested in what he had come up with. “Don’t you know that losing your wife is more painful than any physical torment you could come up with?” I gripped his arm and pulled my face close to his. “But I guess you are going to find that one out,” I hissed across at him and laughed.
The man had taken my everything and now I was going to take his.
When I got out of his grasp, that was. He could beat me till I was dead. It still wouldn’t give him Abby back.
His grip around my neck tightened. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to openly threaten his only weakness while he had a hand around my throat. My hands went to pry his off, but his grip just tightened. He dragged me off the pavement and stood me up, hammering me back into the post office brick wall.
I pried at his hand. But the bastard just squeezed tighter.
The oxygen was gone and I gasped, trying to get air. My legs and arms were going numb as he held me in the air against the brick wall. My brain ached and I gasped and gasped. But nothing was coming. Surely he wouldn’t let my death be this painless?
But the look in his eyes told me that reason was gone. He didn’t care that I was holding the key to whether he got his wife back or not. He wouldn’t know that only two other people knew where Abby was. As far as he knew, I was the ONLY person who knew where she was. But he didn’t care. He just wanted me dead. And right now he was slowly doing that, getting his wish.
I was sure I was on my last breath when I saw Andrew over his shoulder. Reaper slumped to the side, dropping to the ground. And I started coughing.
Andrew grabbed me by the arm and fired bullets at the van while stuffing me in the back seat of the car.
“Did you kill him?” My voice came out raspy and dry as soon as he climbed into the car. I gulped down air but it wasn’t helping.
“NO! He is the fucking president of the mother charter of Satan’s Son. I’m not being responsible for his death.” Andrew sped off, leaving the money behind. I looked out the back window, seeing the bags lying there.
That money was needed.
Fuck it.
We were halfway up the street when I heard the sound of those Harley pipes.
“Well, if you had, he wouldn’t be fucking following us now, would he?” I shouted from the back seat, kicking the driver’s seat in frustration.
Andrew picked up the shotgun from the passenger side and handed it to me.
“You want him dead, you do it.”
“You need to grow a pair,” I shouted back at him. Why were men so scared of one man? You might think he wasn’t human by things he had done, but he still bled.
Hanging out the window, I saw he was right behind us, tailgating.
I saw him pull out the shotgun that was strapped to his tank. But in this case, I was quicker. I shot at his tire
s. I watched his bike flip and come to a skidding halt in the middle of the road.
I climbed back into the cabin. “You know, I hope he survives that because I’m not done with him yet.” I dropped the shotgun beside me and turned my attention to my arm. Cheap fucking shot. He should have gone for the headshot. But if I knew Reaper, he didn’t want me to die that easily.
Now all that money was gone, and worse, now in the hands of Satan’s Sons. My grasp tightened around my arm. That money was fucking needed. I couldn’t wipe off that amount of cash.
This was all her fault. She was the reason I was now four million down, had a bullet in my arm and a handprint around my throat.
Her fault.
“Head us home, Andrew. I’ve got something I need to handle.”
“What about your arm?”
“This is more important.” Someone was going to be held responsible for me losing all that cash. And that someone was sitting in my house.
Chapter 9
Abby
“Billy, do you want dessert?” I held a knife over the apple pie I had made. He had finished off his meal and what was left of Jake’s.
“What is it?” he grunted.
“Apple pie.”
“Homemade or bought?”
“Homemade.”
“Bring it over.” He moved his empty plate from in front of him to the side.
I walked it over. “It’s a family recipe.” I sat it in front of him. Walking around the table, I took a seat across from him.
“I know. Your mom used to make it.” He started gulping it down.
My eyes widened. How the hell did he know that? No one knew that, apart from family– Kim, Dad and I.
“How did you know that?” I asked. I hadn’t spoken about my mother to him or Jake. And I certainly hadn’t gone into detail about how my mom would make this apple pie every Sunday. It was the one meal in the week Dad would make sure he was home for.
Billy took his eyes off the pie and looked across at me. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
I narrowed my eyes at him, looking into those green eyes of his. They were familiar. I had looked into them before. More importantly, I had looked up to them. “You didn’t always have a beard,” I said, leaning forward. “Do you have a pinup girl tattooed on your upper arm?”
