Fast As You (Reapers MC: Conroe Chapter, #2)

by Hunter, Bijou

  Tonight, I do my best to distract my brother after he was nice enough to dress all in black to a party at a rustic pub as if he’s John Fucking Wick.

  I start off my dancing with classic moves like 1980s white girl bouncing. Just like my mom and aunts perfected at every party they’ve ever attended.

  Keanu embraces “Saturday Night Fever” finger-pointing. I fall into The Twist when all the New Wave bouncing stirs up the mojitos in my stomach. Keanu imitates me. That’s when I start the Chicken Dance despite the overhead song being “As Good As I Once Was” by Toby Keith. Fortunately, my lack of rhythm means I can make any music fit my crap dance moves.

  There’s the Sprinkler. Then the Shopping Cart. Next, I try the Elaine dance where I nearly kick Keanu, and he flies into karate moves in response. My brother effortlessly slides off his black jacket while still dancing. Meanwhile, I nearly injure myself taking off my leather jacket while also swaying. Dad loses his shit when I try to be cool by tossing him my jacket and end up throwing it at the bartender. Hell, Butch even cracks a smile over that, and Bubba stops eyeballing the Dogs long enough to grin.

  “Hey, I’m dizzy,” I say when Dad laughs for too long.

  “For fuck’s sake,” Keanu grumbles when “Red Solo Cup” starts playing. “Who keeps putting on Toby Keith?”

  “Having trouble, big bro?” I taunt despite me just bouncing now.

  “No, cool comes easily for me.”

  Laughing at his wink, I start doing the Running Man because our father loves this move.

  Bubba walks away during this song, and I worry he’s hit his limit of embarrassment for the night. Then I remember how tight my jeans are and assume he’s just horny.

  Another Toby Keith song starts up, and Keanu frowns at everyone. “Who is picking these fucking songs? Do you not see how I’m trying to dance here?”

  I give my brother’s arm a pat. “Don’t blame the songs. You wouldn’t be doing any better with K-pop.”

  “Cabbage patch, Num-Num,” he sneers and starts swinging his arms. “I’m taking you down.”

  Laughing harder, I mimic his dance moves. We make a circle on the dance floor, gazes locked, dancing as well as two rhythmically-challenged people can dance, and singing along with “God Love Her.”

  I don’t even see Bubba return. Then I barely hear the gunshots over the loud music, and Keanu nearly tackles me.

  Everyone’s guns are out. Dad is on his feet, moving in my direction until he realizes Keanu has me covered. Stalking toward Bubba, Dad and Butch remind me of lions hunting their prey.

  But they might as well be vultures because there’s no one left to kill.

  I shadow Keanu as he approaches the back table where the Dogs once joked around. Peering around him, I catch sight of the bloody mess Bubba left behind. Each man suffered a shot to the head, probably more than one.

  It was over before the Dogs had time to realize what was happening. That makes sense. Bubba said Butch would be dead if Vigo had taken the shot when his brother’s back was turned. He had the perfect drop on the stronger, younger man. Yet Vigo’s ego demanded Butch know who was killing him. That was his mistake. Butch survived the gunshot; Vigo did not survive his crushed skull.

  “Ambushes only work if you don’t announce they’re about to happen,” Bubba taunted one night while we talked about how close he came to losing his little brother.

  I’m desperate to rush to Bubba and check him for injuries that I know he doesn’t have. Mostly, I want to hold him.

  But Bubba isn’t a baby, and he doesn’t need another mom coddling him, especially in front of these men.

  That’s why I leave the bar when Bubba asks rather than demand to be at his side. Keanu drives me home where we check on Mom.

  “I puked just a little,” she says when we find her in the bathroom cradling a trashcan. “I’m getting too old for carnival food.”

  Mom, Keanu, and I decide to watch a movie until Bubba and Dad arrive. My aunt and uncle are bunking at Sawyer and Jace’s house. There’s a weird little bond brewing between the Johansson sisters and the Serrated Brotherhood club management. They’re creating a friendly rivalry much like the one between Cooper and Hayes. I’m frequently amazed by how competitive the Johanssons are with each other.

  By two a.m., Mom is asleep on the couch, mumbling about corn. Keanu sits like a ninja across from me. I think maybe he’s taking part in a staring contest I’m not aware of. I finally get my brother to stop doing his cold motherfucker routine by unleashing Ula on him. He’s done for as soon as she shakes the junk in her bird trunk.

  By three a.m., Dad and Bubba arrive home. They say nothing before walking to separate bathrooms to shower. Dad reappears first to claim a half-asleep Mom.

  “I dreamed I was attacked by a Chupacabra, but Freki saved me,” she mumbles happily. “Kicked its fucking ass.”

  Smiling, I remain in the living room with Keanu. TV off, birds now resting. Just me and my beloved brother.

  “I’m ditching you as soon as Bubba gets out of the shower,” he says, tapping his fingers on the arms of the chair.

  “Did you ever ask Lottie to marry you?”

  “Yes.”

  “And she said no?”

  “She said she needed to be successful without me, or I’d think she was using me.”

  “What did you say?”

  “Nothing. I instigated foreplay to end the conversation.”

  “Smooth move, wiener.”

  Keanu smirks. “She chooses to listen to the lies in her head rather than the truth that comes from my mouth. How can I fix that?”

  “What lies?”

  “That we’re too different.”

  “But you aren’t really. You both live in White Horse and think bagels are a decent meal.”

  “True, but she doesn’t feel like she belongs here. She also doesn’t feel like she belongs back in Indonesia. She’s lost. I offer to help her, but one fucking person one fucking time hinted that she was a gold digger, and she now worries that’s what everyone thinks.”

  “I assure you that every woman, who’s ever wanted you and lost out to Lottie, does indeed think she’s a gold digger. No one who matters does. I’ve told her that too.”

  “But she’s stubborn.”

  “Have you tried crying when you ask her to marry you?”

  “No.”

  “Well, now, you have a new plan.”

  Keanu gives me a half-smile. “What if she doesn’t want to marry me because she doesn’t want to marry me?”

  “How could she not want to marry Keanu Slater?”

  “Women be crazy.”

  “That they are, but Lottie loves you. I have no doubt about that. If she knows that you’re hurt by her holding back, I think she’ll finally take the leap. Then when she visits her family in Indonesia, you won’t have to worry if she’ll come back.”

  “Are you going to marry Bubba?”

  “Yes,” I say immediately.

  “When?”

  “As soon as it won’t cause Griff to go nuts.”

  Keanu rolls his eyes. “I should kill him for you.”

  “And I should let you kill him for me.”

  “But you don’t like murder. Which is very odd considering you didn’t bat an eye when you saw those dead fuckers tonight.”

  Shrugging, I rub Freki’s head. “I already knew they would die. I just didn’t know when. Now I do. Nothing shocking about it.”

  “What about Griff?”

  “His mom loves him. Other people do too.”

  “I don’t give a fuck about his mom, Soso,” Keanu says in that icy voice of his.

  “Griff needs time. He’s not in love with the real me. He’ll find someone hot and forget about me. Then he doesn’t need to die, his mom doesn’t need to be sad, I don’t have to feel like the bad guy, and the Brotherhood won’t have issues with the Hayes family. Everyone will be happy.”

  “Are you stoned?” he asks, grinning. “What’s with the hippie-
dippy shit?”

  “I’m happy. I want everyone to be happy. Happy is good.”

  “Now, you’re just a fucking fortune cookie.”

  “Stop cussing so much.”

  “Well, I didn’t get to kill anyone tonight,” he grumbles, exhaling roughly. “Plus, I never officially won the dance-off. I have a lot of pent-up fucking animosity.”

  “I declare you the winner.”

  “It’s true that I whipped your ass, Num-Num.”

  “Only because I was wearing jeans. In a skirt, I’d have crushed you.”

  Keanu smirks. We both know I’ve only won a single dance-off in all these years, and I had to nail him in the balls to achieve my triumph.

  “It was an accident,” I remind him.

  “Oh, I know.”

  We share a smile until Bubba appears from the hallway. Keanu says nothing before standing and leaving the room.

  Bubba’s green eyes study me.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, standing up.

  Nodding, Bubba walks to the kitchen where he sits in one of the non-matching chairs.

  I stand behind him and lean his head back against my chest. Sliding my fingers through his thick hair, I smile down at his uncertain gaze.

  “You handled a problem.”

  “I lost my temper,” he mumbles and frowns. “But I wasn’t even angry. Not like hot angry. It was colder.”

  “You still handled a problem. There’s no reason to second-guess yourself.”

  “I could have fucked up everything.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “I told Butch I would wait for him and do it together.”

  “Yes, but you’re the president and not just his big brother.”

  “Soso, I fucked up.”

  “No, baby,” I whisper and kiss his forehead. “You showed the rest of the club how you aren’t a pretty boy pussy. You took charge, killed those men, and ended their threat to your club and family. No matter what Butch says, he respects how you handled shit. I think maybe he thought you were soft too, especially after that thing with Sissy’s mom. You proved otherwise.”

  Bubba’s lips curve into a smile. “You make everything sound simple.”

  “Because I don’t have to be the one to pull the trigger or take charge. Being your sounding board is easier than doing the actual work.”

  “You’re perfect.”

  “So are you,” I promise as my hands massage the tension from his shoulders. “You weren’t planning what happened, and that freaks you out. But remaining in control is overrated. Camden is all about the rules until he gets pissed and fucks up someone. His erratic behavior keeps people on their toes. They never know which guy they’ll end up with. Yeah, he’s their friend, but then maybe he isn’t. Creating that uncertainty with violent men isn’t such a bad thing for a guy as young as you.”

  “I don’t feel young.”

  Stroking his jaw, I smile. “The only way you could have sounded younger saying that was if you used a baby voice.”

  “I need cuddles,” Bubba says in probably the worst baby talk I've ever heard. Of course, his failure makes him even more irresistible. I don’t know how he does that.

  I crawl into his lap and nuzzle his throat. “You did good tonight, but it’s okay to question why you lost your temper. While I don’t want you kicking yourself over a good move, smart leaders don’t accept everything and move on. You, Bubba Davies, are a smart man, so these worries are okay.”

  “Is there anything I can do that isn't okay with you?”

  “Don’t fucking cheat on me,” I growl, grabbing his shirt. “I put up with that shit with Griff because he didn’t own my heart. If you cheat, I will fuck everything up. You, her, me. I won’t care.”

  “I’m blind to other women.”

  “Sure.”

  “No, seriously, those club bunnies were hanging around the other day. Their presence didn’t register beyond me telling them if they showed up at the unveiling party that they’d be cut off from the pub completely. Otherwise, I only want to look at you, hear you, feel you.”

  I smile at his sincerity. “What happens if I get fat?”

  “Don’t even start. If I had a beer belly and man boobs, you’d be out the door in a second.”

  “Never doubt that I’d think up very sexy things to do to your man boobs and belly.”

  “Can I still walk around shirtless all the time if I get fat?” he asks, as his arms tighten around me.

  “I’d insist on it. No one puts Bubba in a corner.”

  “I don’t understand that reference because I’m a man and only watch manly movies.”

  Pressing my forehead against his, I smile. “It’s okay to feel bad about what happened. Or feel happy or scared. Always remember with me that you can feel whatever you need to feel. I’ll never judge you.”

  An emotion I can’t quite pinpoint flashes across his gaze. He watches me for a minute and then sighs.

  “I want to feel guilty about Butch’s shooting. I shouldn’t have run off and left him and the others vulnerable. I fucked up, but I refuse to regret the path that led me to you.”

  “That’s how I feel about Griff. If I hadn’t been hiding in the corner of Salty Peanuts and you hadn’t fought with him, I might never have given you a chance.”

  “I should thank him, but no.”

  “No is right,” I whisper and kiss his lips. “Are you feeling better?”

  “I think so. Like I mainly feel weird about not feeling more rattled by the violence.”

  “Some people can turn off that part of them when necessary. Some people love violence, craving it even. Then some people are wussies like me.”

  “You’re the badass bitch telling me to fuck everyone up.”

  Inhaling his clean scent, I smile. “Again, because I don’t have to do the ugly stuff. I’m a pussy. When you fought with Griff that day in my front yard, and we got inside, you were mostly focused on getting in my pants. You barely seemed fazed. I was rattled, though.”

  “Because he nearly fucked you up,” he sneers in the way he always does when he thinks of that day.

  “Yeah, and because violence rattles me. I have no taste for it. I freeze up too easily. Even with the training from my dad and brother, I just can’t react the way I want. You don’t have that problem. You’re prettier than sin,” I say, and he bats his thick lashes at me. “And soft in a lot of ways. But when you need to bleed or make someone bleed, you can snap into attack mode without hesitation.”

  “I’m a badass,” he says, standing up with me in his arms. “An alpha. A real man who only fucks hard and fast without any concerns for his woman’s needs.”

  “Can I be on top?” I ask as he carries me down the hall toward our bedroom.

  “Yeah, sure, baby.”

  I lean my head back and laugh at my hunky puppy’s obedience. There’s something beautiful about a man who just wants to get laid and won’t let the specifics get in the way of him enjoying himself.

  Of course, in my eyes, there’s something beautiful about every damn thing Bubba does.

  THE RUNAWAY

  My day starts with watching Soso brew tea for her still queasy mom. Dayton and Keanu left before we got up. Harmony says they’re visiting Sawyer’s house. I can’t help smiling at how our families are beginning to mesh.

  Soso knows I’m having a meeting at Mom’s with the remaining club. She’s worried about me. Not that she mentions this fact. No, she pretends I’m the toughest guy around. Her thumbs-up makes me oddly erect, and I don’t think my dick understands what she’s signaling.

  Pop is gone when I arrive. Jace and Sawyer are already here. Butch and Jack arrive just after Ron. Buzz wanders past us with Denny on his hip.

  “Keep the stink down, boys,” he announces. “My son and I are on vacation.”

  Ignoring my brother’s taunting, I join Mom in her office. The group files inside, and we shut the door. The room is large, lush, and smells like bacon, but seven people are s
everal too many. Buzz’s warning makes a lot more sense now.

  Sitting in her wide, leather chair, Mom holds my gaze and tries to converse with me telepathically. I have no fucking clue what she thinks she’s saying, but I nod anyway.

  “Last night got messy,” I say, remaining at the door while the others get comfortable, “but it was always going to happen.”

  “Why did you fuck them up when people were around?” Jack demands.

  “The waitress didn’t see shit. The bartender doesn’t care. The rest are our people.”

  “Dayton Rutgers isn’t one of us.”

  “He helped clean up the bodies, didn’t he?”

  “Oh, so he’s one of the Reapers now, huh?”

  “He’s an ally,” I respond, refusing to lower myself to Jack’s temper. “Those dead men were technically part of our club, but they were never allies.”

  “You should have told us,” Jack grumbles.

  “Sometimes, you’ll know what I’m thinking. Other times, you won’t. If you want to make a play for the top spot, then do it. If not, shut the fuck up.”

  Jack looks so much like his dad as he scowls at me. I don’t know who I look like when I scowl back at him. Mom wants desperately to step in but defeats the urge. I wonder if Sawyer might be mentally controlling her right now. Jace keeps frowning at his wife, which makes me think someone said something to someone earlier.

  “Are you done?” I ask when Jack just stares.

  “I’m thinking about how to kick your ass without your brother jumping me.”

  “I’ll help you out by explaining you can’t. Now sit down.”

  As legacy members of the Reapers looking to prove our worth, Jack and I aren’t so different. That doesn’t mean I plan to coddle him.

  “We need a new vice president. If you can follow directions, that’ll be you,” I tell Jack. “If not, we’ll have new members in time.”

  “Dick,” Jack growls, but his ass also hits the chair like I instruct.