Heart Like Mine (Reapers MC: Conroe Chapter, #3)

by Hunter, Bijou

  I can’t remember anyone’s name, and I’m unsure where they are taking us. Katya and Talia stayed at the restaurant. The pregnant woman took her daughter somewhere. I’m in an SUV belonging to the taller blonde. I want to ask where we’re going, but I’m afraid of the answer.

  After pulling down a road to a two-story farmhouse, we follow the blonde woman inside. Someone calls her Scarlet, and I try to make the name stick in my head.

  We sit in a white, country-style kitchen. While Scarlet offers me Tylenol for my eye, Rebel sticks the leftovers in the fridge.

  “Can we eat them before we go?” he asks Scarlet.

  “I think you should stay here tonight.”

  Rebel looks at me, but I don’t respond. Not because I don’t know the answer or wouldn’t love to sleep in a house.

  No, I don’t answer because my baby’s father—the honkytonk Adonis—is not only real but now standing five feet from me.

  THE CHAPTER WHERE JACK JAY AND GEORGIA NO LAST NAME COME CLEAN

  THE HOTHEAD

  The tension in the kitchen rises when I enter. My sister, wearing her red overalls and with her long blonde hair tied up in a ponytail, looks casual and fit. Nearby, Georgia seems small and sickly in comparison.

  A boy sits in a chair next to his mom. Based on his size, I’d guess he’s around the same age as Sissy and Butch’s boy. Eight maybe. I see a little of Georgia in his features. Not enough to automatically assume he belongs to her. For whatever reason, when the old lady at the rental house said Georgia had a kid, I pictured a boy under five. I obviously hadn’t asked the right questions, or maybe she didn’t want to share.

  Not that any of it matters now that Georgia and her kid sit in my sister’s kitchen.

  “This is Georgia and her son, Rebel,” Scarlet says.

  The kid lost his smile when I entered. I don’t blame him for being nervous. I’m a big guy, pushing six-three and wide across the chest and shoulders. Though my mom claims I’m too handsome to be scary, plenty of men would disagree.

  “I don’t understand,” Georgia says. Her scared gaze widens as she glances between Scarlet and me. “Is Jack Jay your husband?”

  “Gross,” Scarlet mutters and then regains control of her gag reflex. “Jack is my little brother.”

  Turning to me, my sister wears an annoyed frown as she mutters, “Jack Jay? For fuck’s sake, really?”

  Holding up my palm to her frowning face, I shrug. “Not the time or place.”

  “How do you know each other?” Scarlet asks, frowning harder at me.

  I catch how Georgia’s hand instantly goes to her baby bump.

  “Wait, is that mine?” I demand with far more anger than I intend.

  “Don’t yell at my mom!” the kid shouts, jumping to his feet.

  I’m impressed by the kid’s balls, but I still want an answer to my question. Rather than respond to me, Georgia reassures her boy, who sits down. Scarlet, meanwhile, alternates between frowning at me and looking worried about her guests.

  “My wife and I,” Scarlet announces, “would like for you to stay at our home until things are sorted out.”

  “What things?” Georgia asks, nervous now.

  “The people from today and whatever sort of relationship you have with my brother. Those details can wait for now. First, I think you might want to clean up and rest.”

  “Our stuff is in my SUV parked at the Kroger’s.”

  Unsure what to do, Scarlet gets agitated, which rubs off on Georgia. My one-night stand now looks ready to run. I’m no help since I can’t seem to soften the scowl on my face.

  I want to know where Georgia’s been for the last six fucking months and is that my kid and who the hell busted up her face?

  Acting as a balm for her wife’s tension, Phoebe enters the room. A red bandana covers her dark, curly hair, and I see she’s been painting recently. Standing next to Scarlet, Phoebe introduces herself to Georgia and Rebel.

  “Is there anything absolutely vital in your SUV?” she asks while Scarlet gives me a side-glare.

  “No, but we don’t have clothes.”

  “Whatever we don’t have for you, we can get.”

  Georgia stands up and takes three deep breaths, building up her confidence before blurting out, “Why are you helping us?”

  I want to answer, but Phoebe takes control before I can get my mouth open. “We handle problems in Conroe, and your problem happened here. Nothing more complicated than that,” my sister-in-law explains. “Think of us as the law here.”

  Scarlet leans over and whispers something to Phoebe, who frowns at me.

  “I’m not even sorry,” I say, waving off their accusations.

  “Come along,” Phoebe says and gestures for Georgia to follow her. “No one will hurt you here.”

  Georgia’s reaction to Phoebe’s words kills my anger. She shudders and tears spring to her eyes. Hating that look, I struggle against the urge to hug her. Unfortunately, as soon as I move even half a step in her direction, Georgia flinches. Now my sister looks ready to punch me in the face. She’ll do it too.

  Georgia and her kid follow Phoebe from the room. I catch the blonde turned brunette steal a glance at me. I want to follow her, but my sister knows shit I need to know, and she’s desperate for answers too.

  Once they’re out of earshot, Scarlet punches me in the arm.

  “Slut,” she hisses. “You said you were careful now.”

  “I was. I am.”

  “Okay, step back,” she says, blowing hair out of her eyes. “Is this the girl you told me about? The one where you got drunk and cried?”

  “I did not cry.”

  Scarlet smirks. “That’s her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is the baby yours?”

  “How would I know?” I growl, full of frustration. I need to be where Georgia is, but I’m stuck here. Scarlet will tackle me if I try to follow my possible baby mama, so I focus on my sister’s question. “We fucked one time, and she ghosted me. She might have done that with a million guys.”

  “Okay, so then just back off. It’s not like she’s ready to pop, and the woman has bigger issues than playing the ‘who’s my baby daddy’ game. Just calm down.”

  “She ghosted me.”

  “Well, maybe she sensed you were a dipshit, Jack Jay?” she taunts.

  I grudgingly smile. “I want a woman to appreciate me for my body rather than my name.”

  “You’re such a shithead. I don’t know why, either. You ought to be nicer to women. You adore Mom, and you absolutely worship me,” Scarlet says and hits me in the arm again. “Just a big stupid man.”

  “I looked for her,” I say in my defense. “I thought she might be in trouble, and I told you that. I’m an asshole, sure, but not with Georgia. This isn’t on me.”

  “Quit your bitching and wipe your tears,” she teases.

  I narrow my eyes, and she mimics me. Giving up, I sigh. “What happened to her face?”

  “Some bitch hit her at the Go-Stop on Peak Street.”

  “What bitch?”

  “I said ‘some’ bitch because I don’t know the details. Talia and Katya helped Georgia and the boy. Then they called Soso, who called me. Apparently, a fucking out-of-town cop even showed up. Bubba and Butch are dealing with that shit. All I knew was we needed to get her out of there. Why didn’t you get the alert?”

  “I was working with my protective ear gear on. When I checked my phone, the alert was over, and I came home. I blame Bubba for not contacting me immediately.”

  “I’m not even kidding, Jack,” Scarlet hisses, fighting laughter. “If you start crying right now, I will fucking lose it.”

  “Snatch lover.”

  “Right back at you, foolish boy,” she says, winking.

  “Wait, is Georgia homeless? Is that why I couldn’t find her?”

  “I think so, but again, I don’t know. We had to get her out of there once the out-of-town pig showed up. Since Soso doesn't have space at her
place with her family visiting this weekend, I offered for Georgia and Rebel to bunk here. Bubba suggested they could stay with Bailey or Sawyer, but since our aunts can be a bit...”

  “Psycho bitchy?”

  “Sure. Now, I need you to back off with this woman until I find out what’s happening. I don’t want you scaring her.”

  “I’m a fucking pussycat.”

  “Be nice,” she warns.

  “I will.”

  “Don’t act like an ass.”

  Yanking at her ponytail, I growl. “You’re making me want to be an asshole now.”

  “Just pretend she’s Mom, and you’ll be fine.”

  “I don’t want to fuck our mom.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t fuck that woman either. The poor thing’s a wreck, and your dick has caused enough problems.”

  Waving off her bullshit, I walk to the fridge to find a drink. “My dick may have created life.”

  “We’ve heard that shit before.”

  “Yeah, but whatever. Shut up. I hate you. You smell like farts.”

  Scarlet watches me. “You’ll behave.”

  “Yes, harpy,” I growl and take a deep breath. “But don’t stonewall me. I deserve to know what the fuck is going on.”

  “You’re such a little bitch. One chick blows you off, and you lose your fucking mind.”

  “Not one chick,” I grumble, frowning in the direction of the house’s guest room. “That chick.”

  “What do you remember about her?”

  “She’s got a great smile, and she said I smelled good.”

  “Well, then I can totally see why you’re so hung up on her.”

  “You can’t understand because you met the love of your life when you were in diapers.”

  Scarlet snorts. “So now you love her?”

  “I might. Who knows? I never got a chance to find out.”

  “Well, be nice, and we’ll see what’s what.”

  Glaring at my beer, I no longer want to drink alcohol. I can’t be even a little buzzed if trouble shows up. Returning the beer to the fridge, I’m surprised by Scarlet’s sudden presence next to me. Her bright blue eyes stare hard into mine.

  “Whatever happens with this woman, I do know you tried to find her.”

  “I did,” I say, feeling cornered and not just because she has me stuck in a corner.

  “It might not be your kid.”

  “I know.”

  “She might be a psycho who stole her son from his saintly father.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “I do too, but we don’t know. You have to be ready for her to be a bitch. I worry you've filled your head with shit about her all these months. Now you find her beat up and pregnant, and you might imagine qualities she doesn’t have. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “I won’t,” I lie since my feelings are already banged up by the fact that Georgia ghosted me and then didn’t ask for help for all these months.

  Scarlet holds my gaze and grips my hand. “I’m sorry I pounded on your arm.”

  “Didn't feel a thing.”

  “I know how easily you bruise,” she teases, backing away from me. “How tender you are and prone to tears.”

  “Your twat is stinking up the room.”

  “Look at you already blubbering. Poor thing. Get a tissue before our guests see you.”

  Done with her pep talk-turned-torment, Scarlet leaves me alone in the kitchen where I crack my knuckles and wonder about Georgia.

  My mind flashes with the sight of her bruised face and swollen belly. I have a million fucking questions I need answered, but Scarlet is right that I need to back off.

  Because as I stand in the kitchen, I don’t feel in control of myself. I’ve always had trouble taming my temper, and I’m angry right now.

  “Uncle Jack,” Yancy says, entering the kitchen, “do you need a hug?”

  My ten-year-old niece wraps her arms around my waist and squeezes. I can’t believe how tall she’s getting. Her big sister, Cady, is growing like a weed too. When did they go from little kids to this tween crap? Time moves too fast.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks, staring up at me with her blue eyes.

  “There are problems that can be fixed by punching them. Others need patience. You can guess which one I like best.”

  “What problems can’t you punch?” she asks, smiling so much like her mom.

  “It’s complicated, and I’m no good at patience.”

  Swatting her messy brown hair out of her eyes, she asks, “Want to play ping pong with me while you wait for the problem to get fixed?”

  “Sure, but I’m cheating.”

  Downstairs in the refinished basement, Yancy and I play a game. We’re joined soon by Cady and Janis. The girls take turns challenging me. I crush them all, showing no mercy. They find my need to win hilarious.

  I’m surrounded by chicks who get me. Lots of women understand me—Mom, Scarlet, and even Phoebe. But upstairs, my sister talks to the one chick I need most to get me.

  Unfortunately, Georgia doesn’t even know my real fucking name.

  THE DOORMAT

  Phoebe shows us to a small guest room and asks if we’ll need more space. I can’t speak, only shaking my head. Fatigue leaves me barely able to function, and my head hurts. I need to shut down for a while. Think about today. Wonder what seeing Jack means. Am I safe here? Who are these people?

  “Do you need a separate room?” she asks Rebel.

  “I want to stay with my mom.”

  Phoebe nods, seeming nervous. “You need clean clothes.”

  “Do we smell?” I blurt out.

  Rebel’s hopeful expression falls, and he stares at the ground embarrassed.

  “No, I just thought you might want to change after what happened today.”

  I don’t believe Phoebe. She’s lying to be nice. I hear all those negative voices in my head, reminding me of how I failed my sons. I always fuck up things. I’m stupid, ugly, bad... I exhale deeply, feeling the fatigue in my bones.

  “Listen,” Phoebe says, tilting her head to get me to focus on her, “your day sucked. Maybe more than your day, but you’re safe here. No one can hurt you. No one will judge you. There’s food here, hot water for a shower if you want. Or a bath. When I was pregnant, I loved a hot bath. We have clothes. Mostly girl stuff, but we can round up some boy clothes for Rebel. Everything will be okay.”

  I wipe the tear stuck in the corner of my eye and struggle to form words. “Rebel’s uncle is a cop. He might find us here, and he’s dangerous.”

  “You saw Jack, right? He’s plenty dangerous too. And he’s part of a larger group of dangerous people. No one is starting shit here. If they do, they won’t be leaving alive.”

  Phoebe is smaller than me, and I’m barely five-four, but there’s a toughness to her. I believe when she says we’re safe. The way Scarlet and the others showed up at the restaurant felt, I don’t know, intense, arrogant even. They took charge and never once looked worried about Sean across the road even with his uniform and cruiser.

  “We’re safe here,” I tell Rebel.

  My boy’s shame is quickly replaced by hope again. “I think you’d like a bath,” he suggests. “Your feet hurt a lot.”

  Phoebe nods at his words and guides us down a hallway into what I suspect is the master bedroom with a connecting bathroom.

  “This clawfoot tub is deep and comfy.”

  I hear confidence in Phoebe’s voice that lets me hand over control. She tells Rebel to follow her, and I don’t make him stay. I trust her to keep him safe.

  The bath feels amazing, but I’m so tired that I nearly fall asleep in the hot water. I haven’t really seen my belly in months. The baby is quiet at the start of the bath, but it's kicking up a storm by the time I dress in the maternity top and sweats that Scarlet brings me.

  “Rebel took a shower and is watching a movie with my girls,” she says as I shuffle behind her.

  “How many girls do you have?”
>
  “Three. I have twin boys, who are nearly four, but they’re hanging out with their grandma right now.”

  “Thank you,” I say, reaching for her wrist. “I still don’t understand why you’re helping us.”

  “Conroe is our town.”

  “Why not just make us leave your town?”

  “Because we’re not assholes,” she says, wearing a frown. I shrink under her irritated gaze. “Hey, I’m just messing with you.”

  “Oh.”

  “We need to talk, though. I can get you something to eat or drink, and you should put your feet up. But we still need to hash out what happened today and who those bitches were.”

  Scarlet leads me to an enclosed back porch where I sit on a padded bench. Outside, the flat land spans acres. I spot a playset and a trampoline in the immediate yard. Beyond the fence is more fencing with a barn and what look like goats.

  I stop studying the surrounding land when Scarlet sits across from me.

  “Jack is your brother,” I blurt out.

  “My baby brother.”

  Now that I’m calmer, I’m struggling with how Jack is not only real but even more handsome than I remember. How is that even possible? With their golden hair and electric blue eyes, Scarlet and Jack do look alike. They’re both tall and athletically built. Somehow, the honkytonk Adonis is a real person, and I’m in his sister’s home.

  “I don’t really know him,” I babble, not making any sense. “The bar was very loud.”

  “He looked for you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he thought you were hot.”

  Without thinking, I reach up to my swollen eye. “Someone saw me at the theater where I was working. Someone who knew my husband. That’s why I bailed on the job, the place I was renting, and my phone. I knew Sean could track me once he knew about the theater.”

  “Sean is your husband?”

  “No. Patrick Hegseth is my husband. Sean is his brother and the police officer from Milkweed. His wife is the woman who got tasered. I don’t know who the other woman is, but people in Milkweed support the Hegseth family.”