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

by Hunter, Bijou

  I don’t know this Bubba. I can’t imagine him ever touching me again.

  I’m ready to flee, as fearful of him as I was when Griff attacked me.

  Then I hear a noise. A whimper maybe. Bubba saying my name. He’s lost in a fit of violence and rage, but there’s some part of him that’s still my hunky puppy.

  My mind returns to him drunk from the Korean Kickass. He was vulnerable, wanting to be better but not knowing how. I fell in love with him a little that night. I wanted to believe he was a big strong man with a big soft heart. He proved I was right to have faith in him.

  He’s lost again. Instead of booze, he can’t let go of the anger and fear. I see in his eyes how he’s gone deep inside and let out a part of him that he can’t control.

  I don’t know how to bring him back to me. The fingers on my non-broken hand reach out. I stroke his face in the same way I did when he dream-ranted. I hope to soothe this beast until my Bubba can retake control.

  And he’s suddenly in front of me. The man I love, the one who holds the birds so carefully, the guy still growing up but already amazing. That Bubba wraps his arms around me and cradles my chilled pained body against his stronger one.

  I search his eyes for reassurance. He looks back at me with the same need.

  “I knew you’d come,” I lie.

  I hadn’t believed he would find me, but somehow, he did. My truth won’t help Bubba. He craves lies to help him look at me without feeling as if he failed. I know what kind of man he needs to be.

  In his mind, he should have the power to shield me from all danger. It’s the unrealistic aspirations of a man still learning. I don’t need to be a mature woman to know he isn’t ready to hear ugly truths.

  I force my numb face to smile and provide Bubba with what he needs. That’s what love really is anyway. It’s not great sex and joyful times. Love means you don’t look away even when it’d be easier. Love means also embracing the monster capable of doing what he did to Griff. That violence is a part of the whole man. I can’t just have the good stuff any more than Bubba can just have me belly dancing naked day and night.

  I promise myself we’ll be okay.

  Even in the eerie woods with a dead man nearby, I try to imagine only the best for Bubba and me.

  THE CHAPTER WHERE THERE ARE NO EASY FIXES

  THE RUNAWAY

  I’m on autopilot for the next few hours. I take off my jacket and wrap it around a shivering Soso while making calls to Butch and Mom. He sends Jack and Jace to clean up the mess.

  Too busy screaming at each other, the old ladies didn’t hear anything. Their sole focus is on getting their cars towed. The cops never show up despite them both apparently calling for someone to arrest the other. I don’t know what Roid Ron tells the women, but he removes Griff’s SUV before the tow trucks arrive.

  Dumping Griff’s body isn’t an option. Neither is reporting his death. He’ll lead the cops to the Brotherhood. I decide to have him put on ice until Dayton decides what he wants done.

  Mom paves the way for Soso and me to receive medical treatment without the cops getting wind. The doctor on our payroll is waiting for us at the hospital. Weeks ago, Soso suggested we get something in order after Butch’s shooting brought a lot of police attention.

  Today, I’m the one with a bullet wound. Nothing serious like with Butch. Just a flesh wound. An x-ray and a few stitches later, I feel fine. No doubt it’ll hurt more once the shock and adrenaline wear off. For now, my mind is numb, and only my heart hurts.

  Soso’s nose is broken. Her right hand too. The doctor can’t do anything about her face until she heals. Then he’ll know if she needs anything reconstructive done. He applies a cast to her right hand and prescribes plenty of pain meds that she refuses. Tylenol is all she’ll accept.

  The doctor doesn’t ask for specifics about the incident. Though he does whisper a few questions to Soso regarding STD tests and emergency contraception. With her face swollen, speaking proves difficult, and she only shakes her head.

  While we wait for Pop and Mom to drive us home, I take off my shirt and switch it with her tattered one. Soso cries when I discard her top in the trash. I remember her saying once how it was one of her favorites. Now, the shirt’s a rag, but I take it from the trash, and her whimpers stop. She cradles the shirt in her arms and stares at the floor until we leave.

  Soso’s parents are on the road, headed this way. They aren’t coming alone. Keanu, Camden, and several members of the Brotherhood on driving up too.

  “Are you in pain?” Mom asks Soso once we enter our house.

  Soso mumbles something, and Mom looks to me to translate.

  “They gave her Tylenol at the hospital.”

  Mumbling again, Soso hands me her phone. I read a message from Sissy suggesting Dash bring over pot from their Ellsberg stash.

  “It helped more when I got hurt,” Sissy types.

  Considering Sissy spent most of her life getting pounded on by her asshole father, I’m sure she knows what’s works best. I text back a thank you.

  Likely in shock, Soso stands confused in the middle of the living room for nearly five minutes before I guide her to the couch. Freki immediately joins her.

  I start to remove Soso’s shoes, but Mom waves me off. “You need to rest too. Let us help.”

  Soso stares at my mother, not really seeing her. I don’t think she even realizes Freki is next to her. The sound of the birds draws her attention but gains no emotional reaction.

  I study Soso while my parents do busy work in the kitchen. Someone is bringing her truck over. The groceries are mostly salvageable. They’ll replace what isn’t. There’s talk of casseroles being cooked by friends to ensure we don’t have to worry about food for a few days.

  My aunt Sawyer is organizing a schedule for the family to help out until we’re back on our feet. Jack messages to say he’ll handle our lawn. Butch promises he’ll help with the atrium. Buzz plans to come over once Panni finishes a spaghetti bake she’s making for us. Even the women at the Rossiya offer to clean and take the dog for walks.

  Everyone rallies, just like they would back in Ellsberg.

  And I’m thankful for their support.

  But Soso sits next to me, inches away, and I can’t feel her. She’s lost in her head. I suspect she wants to shower, but I’m afraid to ask. She’s barely made eye contact with me since I stopped fucking up Griff. I get the distinct impression she’s angry with me. Or fearful.

  I ought to give her space, but I’m tired now that the adrenaline tapes off. The pain of nearly losing her makes me hurt all over. Inching closer on the couch, I need her to help me even if my presence makes her feel worse.

  Soso notices me scooting closer and glances up at me. Her face is unreadable between the swelling and the blank expression in her dark eyes. Finally, she mumbles something I can’t understand. She says it again. Then I realize she’s asking for her mom.

  I take my phone and text Harmony. “They’re less than thirty minutes out.”

  Tears spill from her swollen eyes, and she nods. Looking away, she shrinks next to me. I think to ask if she wants the girls. I’m desperate to reassure her, but the birds aren’t toys. Bjork especially gets startled by new people coming in and out. During our painting party weekend, the birds remained under their cover whenever the house wasn’t quiet.

  Worried now, I leave Soso and cover the cage. Ula sees me and makes her head roll move. I can’t help smiling when she flirts that way. Bjork chatters and I pretend she’s promising everything will be okay. Soso’s strong. She just needs to rest. Don’t worry, Bubba.

  I cover the birds, planning to let them out later when the house is quiet, and they’re safe. I might not know the right thing to do for Soso, but I understand our girls.

  Returning to the couch, I’m afraid to look at my woman. Soso tries to smile when I finally glance down at her. This small gesture reinvigorates me. I’m not a monster in her eyes. I think I’d be fine if others saw me th
at way. Even my parents can think I’m a vile fuck but never Soso. She saw me at my weakest that first night, and she still wanted to know me. A lot of women would have been turned off. I don’t care what women claim about craving a man with a good heart, they usually want men like me to be hard inside.

  With Soso, I can be me. That’s why I can’t handle her thinking I’m a monster. If that’s what she sees when she looks at my face, how can she still love me?

  THE BOHEMIAN

  I don’t feel like me. The house I sit in isn’t mine. The people around me are strangers. The man at my side is someone I don’t know. My body doesn’t do what I want. When I try to smile for Bubba after he covers the birds, I don’t know if my face even moves. Half of me is in pain, the other half is numb.

  I stare at Bubba’s right hand during its slow journey over to my left one. He’s hesitant to hurt me. I’m not sure I want him touching me anyway. He likely thinks I look awful. I’m afraid to look in a mirror. Everything is jumbled in my head.

  Griff might be dead—torn apart by the same hand holding mine—but he left me forever changed. The doctor said I might need physical therapy after the twelve broken bones in my hand heal. He also warned surgery could be necessary in the future for both my hand and my nose. Griff is dead, but he remains burned into my future.

  I want my mom. Bailey offers mothering, but she’s mostly a stranger. I want my mom’s arms around me. I want my dad to look at me and promise it’ll be okay. I need Keanu to breathe the same air as I do. If I’m surrounded by my family, maybe I’ll remember how to be me again.

  I’ve never been a badass, but I’m not used to feeling this weak. I need something to click inside me and reclaim what Griff stole.

  Bubba is a ghost next to me. I feel him wanting something—to speak, to run, to hold me, to push me away. I doubt he knows what he wants, but I can’t give him anything. I’m barely holding on. The tears keep breaking loose, pushing Bubba close to the edge.

  When I stare at his fingers wrapped around mine, it’s almost like before. We’d spend time on the couch, casually affectionate until we finally needed to be completely connected. These little finger dances led to sex, but I can’t imagine anyone ever touching me like that again.

  Opening the door for my parents, Bailey seems nervous. She takes everything that occurs in Conroe personally, and today happened on her watch.

  My attention leaves Bubba’s mom and focuses on mine. Seeing her flushed face and wet eyes make me hurt with guilt.

  Bubba helps me to my feet so I can get to my parents. I sigh at the feel of her arms around me. I find Dad’s gaze over her shoulder and find he’s embraced cold rage. That’s how he’ll cope, but I see cracks in his rough shell when he sees my battered face.

  “I want to take a shower, but I don’t know how,” I whimper to my teary-eyed mom.

  “We’ve got this,” she reassures me.

  I don’t look back at Bubba before my mother guides me out of the room and toward the master bathroom. My mind is on washing away everything that happened today. I smell like blood, dirt, and Griff. Nothing matters more than getting clean.

  Then I imagine Bubba miserable in the living room, kicking himself for not getting to me sooner.

  Sighing loudly, I leave Mom and shuffle down the hall to the living room where Bubba is, in fact, sitting like a lump with a pout on his face and regret in his eyes.

  “You can take a shower after I do,” I tell him.

  Bubba knows what I’m saying, and the melancholy lessens in his expression. He even manages a smile once he realizes that’s what my face is attempting.

  I leave him and return to Mom, who washes the tears from her red cheeks. Dad follows me back and stands in the doorway.

  “I need to get undressed,” I say.

  “I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”

  Like Bubba, Dad needs reassurance. These are powerful, scary men accustomed to fixing problems with violence. But there’s no one to punch anymore. They’re left with only dark thoughts and ugly feelings.

  I hug him before joining Mom in the bathroom. We strip me out of Bubba’s shirt and my dirty skirt. I stand naked except for the wrap around my cast. Mom gets naked too. I don’t know why the two of us undressed cracks me up. The giggles start soft, and then I laugh so hard that I can barely breathe. Mom steadies me as I step into the shower and relax under the hot water.

  I rest my head against the wall and let the heat ease my tension. A momentary reprieve from my battered body and disturbing memories. I ache to sleep and wake up with that foggy feeling where I can’t be sure if what I remember is real or a dream.

  Instead, I’m right back in the woods as soon as I step out of the shower. The cold air hits my naked body, and I feel exposed. Breathing faster, I imagine myself on the ground, tits out, at Griff’s mercy.

  Mom wraps me in a towel and calls for Dad to bring me something warm to wear.

  “He wanted to rape me,” I whisper to my mother. “I couldn’t stop him. He tore open my shirt. I was out there, and anyone could see. I couldn’t stop him.”

  Sobbing, I don’t even know what happens in the next few minutes. I try to reach for my mom, but I only see Griff over me. I feel his nails scratching at me as he ripped off my clothes. I can’t find my way back to where I’m safe at home.

  Then I’m dressed and in Dad’s arms. We’re sitting on the bed. Mom is nearby, still damp. I inhale my father’s familiar cologne. In the background, I hear Bailey talking to someone. She can’t see us. The door is shut. I’m relieved by the privacy, but also hearing Bailey’s voice reminds me that I’m not in the woods. I’m safe at home. Griff is dead. I’m alive.

  The tears stop, and I can breathe again. Only then do I realize my father's shaking. His expression doesn’t reveal the anger he’s clearly fighting. I tell him I love him, and it’ll be okay. He says the same back to me. Mom finishes dressing and joins us on the bed. She says the words too.

  I’m okay now. My nightgown is thick flannel. I’m no longer exposed. This home is safe. Dad is here. Mom is here. Soon, Keanu will be here.

  But Bubba is the one who needs the kind of reassurance my parents provide me. I don’t know if he can share with his family how he feels. Worse still, I’m not sure I’m strong enough to help him either.

  THE RUNAWAY

  I take a shower in the hall bathroom when it becomes apparent Soso’s family isn’t leaving the master. Mom rounds up clothes from the laundry room. Then I go through the motions of getting my shit together.

  After dressing in faded jeans and a gray T-shirt that Soso likes, I return to the living room to find Camden and Keanu. The other Brotherhood men don’t enter the house, choosing to watch from outside. Do they resent me for killing their club brother?

  No, they’re on edge because one of them crossed a line with someone protected. Griff and Soso are family to them. Their tension has nothing to do with me or the Reapers.

  But I feel judged.

  Not by my parents. Pop tells me I did what I needed to do. Mom says I killed the bad guy, which makes me a hero.

  Or by Keanu who shakes my hand and thanks me for saving his sister from the sick fuck.

  “I owe you,” he swears, holding my gaze.

  Camden then thanks me for cleaning up the club’s mess. The Brotherhood owes us for this.

  “What about Griff’s body?” I ask.

  “We’ll take it back and handle shit with his mom,” Camden says, stroking his lumberjack beard and making me think of Soso’s reaction to it. Her uncle lowers his voice. “This clusterfuck today makes Conroe and Hickory Creek tight. We were obviously on good terms since you and Soso hooked up. What I’m talking about now isn’t that. You’re a small chapter, low on muscle. Just remember that if you need numbers, you’ve got them with us.”

  Any other day, I’d be fucking stoked to know I created an alliance with a larger, established club. Sure, Cooper would send in the troops if necessary, but this bond between Conroe an
d Hickory Creek is my doing. Not something my uncles or grandfather accomplished while I lazily reaped the benefits. This shit is mine.

  But today isn’t any other day.

  Soso hiding in our bedroom steals away any sense of my triumph. I want to see her. Hear her voice. Know if she’s crying. Is she in pain? Does she need anything?

  She’s mine, but I’m out here, and I don’t think I’m wanted in there.

  Keanu disappears into the room I feel locked out of. Camden finishes making chit chat with my mom and heads over to where Jack stashed Griff’s body.

  Sawyer arrives with food. “More’s coming,” she promises as Jace enters with the casserole dish. “Scarlet and Phoebe are cooking up a storm.”

  “We don’t need so much food,” I mumble while Mom looks over the dish.

  “Her family is here,” Sawyer says, cupping my face like she did when I was a kid and needed a talking-to. “Your family is here. People will be coming and going until you’re back to normal. People are pigs and will eat all your crap. This way, you won’t have to worry about keeping them fed.”

  I stare into my aunt’s bright blue eyes and nod. She makes good points. I hadn’t thought about how long Soso’s family might remain in Conroe. They likely didn’t have time to pack, and I suspect they drove up on Dayton’s Harley.

  There are questions I want to ask, but the people with the answers are hiding in the bedroom.

  Dash arrives with a casserole dish and primo pot. “This shit is heavier,” he says, showing me how he’s organized the pot in a small metal tin. “Basically, this hash is good for when you want to chill, and these others are for when you really need to chill. Don’t overdo the second one if you’ll need to drive any time soon. But if you’re in a world of pain, the second one will be a lifesaver.”

  I nod, despite not understanding anything he just told me. I’ve smoked pot since I was a teen. Never before did I think about safety precautions. I lit up, got stoned, laughed at stupid shit, and craved chips. I never paid attention to how there was more than one kind of pot.