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

by Hunter, Bijou

  Jack is waiting for me in the living room when I shuffle out. Looking up at him, I’m struck by how tall he is, and how short I feel in comparison. I glance down at my swollen feet that I can barely see around my belly. Meanwhile, Jack’s sleeveless shirt shows off effortlessly perfect muscles. He isn’t one of those super buff men, who looks ready to rip out of his skin. No, he’s literally perfectly muscled, and I no longer feel particularly pretty in his presence.

  “Mom,” Rebel says, entering the room in a hurry. Jack immediately backs away from me. His expression changes when he sees my boy.

  “You look nice,” Rebel whispers when he notices my outfit. “Scarlet has three daughters. We watched a movie. Not all of it because dinner is coming, but we can finish later. They have a big room for movies. It’s cool.”

  Rebel always talks too fast when he’s excited. Even if Jack gives my boy the stink-eye, I’ve never loved Rebel more. He’s so resilient. Hours ago, he was in a pure panic, but he’s rebounded.

  Now he’s having fun and making friends. When I see him this way, I know he’ll do okay even if the Hegseth family takes him back. Rebel is strong enough to overcome them. He’s everything I wish I was.

  Rebel introduces me to Scarlet and Phoebe’s daughters. I see a resemblance between Cady and Yancy. Janis looks more like Phoebe, I think. The girls are older than Rebel, but not by much. Cady walks over to Jack and hugs him. He messes with her ponytail, and she reaches up to do the same to his hair.

  I’m very curious about these people, but I’m afraid to ask questions. It’s my nature to disappear into the background. People are less likely to lash out if they forget I’m around.

  Rebel doesn’t want to disappear. He likes talking to someone besides me. For the last six months since we ended up homeless and living in the SUV, we’ve spent nearly every minute together. Rebel is clearly relieved to hang out with people that don’t know all his stories.

  I leave the kids with Jack as he defends himself from an attack from the other girls who also want to mess with his hair. Rebel watches them and laughs.

  Feeling uneasy, I should help clean or cook. Freeloading is the quickest way to build resentment, and I need these people to tolerate me.

  Earlier in the sunroom, I felt like Jack, and I might have a real connection. As if we could get to know each other and have a relationship like normal people.

  I’m not normal people, though. I have no friends. I got married as a teenager and ended up surrounded by people that didn’t like me. The Hegseth family only kept me around because they wanted Rebel, and someone needed to take care of Patrick. I was his wife, but I never owned his heart. Most days, Patrick didn’t speak two words to me.

  I join Scarlet and Phoebe in the kitchen where they cook a huge pot of food.

  “Can I help?”

  The women share a look that means something to them, but I can’t read it.

  “Why not rest?” Phoebe asks.

  “I already rested.”

  “You look nervous,” Scarlet says from the stove. “Did you and Jack talk?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, you’re nervous, or yes, you spoke with Jack?”

  “Both.”

  “Did he make you nervous?” Scarlet mutters.

  “No. He was sweet.”

  Scarlet’s expression immediately changes, and she hurries out of the kitchen. Phoebe rolls her eyes.

  “Those two are always tormenting each other. It’s how their family does stuff.”

  I glance into the living room where Scarlet hugs Jack and pretends to cry. He acts as if he’s annoyed, but then he grins and yanks on her ponytail. She smacks him upside the head, and he shoves her to the ground.

  “It’s all play,” Phoebe says, now at the stove. “They’ve always been that way. It’s not real.”

  Watching them playfight, I’m tense. Jack and Scarlet end up wrestling on the ground while the girls cheer on their mom. I’m not accustomed to seeing aggression without assuming the worst.

  “Crush him!” Cady cries, and Rebel claps just to be part of the noise.

  “Hello?” a voice says from the back screen-door, and I flinch.

  Catching sight of a blonde woman, I instantly think Ainsley is here. Phoebe reaches over and gently pats my back.

  “That’s Scarlet and Jack’s mom.”

  Nodding, I still feel under attack. The woman holds the door open while two boys run inside. One is blond, the other a brunette. Otherwise, they look similar.

  Phoebe picks up the dark-haired boy and smiles at the woman.

  “Maddy, this is Georgia. She and her son are staying here for a while.”

  Looking so much like her kids, she gives me a quick smile before focusing on Phoebe and sharing what the boys did today. I sneak backward—casually, of course—out of the kitchen, leaving them to talk.

  Mostly, I’m afraid of meeting Jack’s mother. Marsha hated me from the start. She said I was a bad cook and a lousy housekeeper. The fact that I was fourteen didn’t seem to register in her evaluation process. She mostly hated how I trapped her son with my “Lolita ways.”

  Now I’ve snared another man with my baby-making skills. I don’t want to stick around for Maddy’s judgment. However, I have nowhere to escape to and just end up backing into a hard body that belongs to the man whose mother I’m avoiding.

  Turning around, I find Jack watching me in a super intense way. I instinctively reach for my belly, wanting to console the baby currently kicking the heck out of me. The movement reassures me but also makes me more protective.

  Jack looks down at where I’m caressing my belly. He then holds my gaze, almost challenging me to stop him as his hand slides across my bump. His touch awakens the same lust I felt the night at the bar. I suffer from an incredible urge to reach up and stroke his lips. Or just go grab-happy on his hard chest.

  But we’re surrounded by kids and his sister and now his mom. I can’t react to the stirring between my legs as his fingers stroke my belly in the same way they did to my thighs that night.

  Then the baby kicks hard where his hand rests, and Jack’s eyes widen. His lusty gaze is gone, and he smiles like a startled kid.

  “Did you feel that?” he asks, and I enjoy how excited he is.

  When I nod, he takes a deep breath and smiles proudly. Then he looks over my head, spots his mom, and removes his hand.

  “I’ll be back,” he says and hurries into the kitchen.

  I realize I’m now alone in the living room with four children staring at me. The girls wear sly grins, and I remember what it felt like to be the dorky girl in school eyeballed by the cool kids. Rebel wears a frown, probably because he doesn’t like a strange man touching his mom. Only then do I realize he doesn’t know about Jack being the dad.

  While the Johansson family gets caught up on the situation in the kitchen, I gesture for Rebel to join me in a hallway where he can find out what the girls seem to know.

  “Jack is the baby’s father.”

  “Does that mean we can stay here?” he asks, blue eyes wide.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Is he mad?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Does he want me to leave?” Rebel asks, looking disappointed. “He thinks I’m like Dad.”

  “No,” I say, running my fingers through his shaggy light brown hair.

  “You could stay here, and I could go back. Then the baby would be safe,” he says, talking calmly despite the tears in his eyes.

  “I need you with me.”

  Rebel blinks and the tears slide down his cheeks, but he also seems suddenly calmer. “Can I stay with you?”

  “Of course.”

  “They’re nice to me.”

  “You don’t belong with the Hegseths. You’re not like them. You’re like me. Well, better, but like me.”

  “I want to be with you and the baby.”

  “No one is taking you away,” I promise despite knowing if the police showed up that I l
ack the power to keep him.

  “Don’t cry,” he whispers as I wipe my tears with the seam of the shirt.

  “I’m afraid I’m promising the wrong stuff.”

  “You’re tired.”

  “I’m scared.”

  Rebel nods. “Dinner smells good. I think we can be happy here tonight. Tomorrow, we might have to run. That’s okay,” he says, giving me a pep talk like I’ve done with him a million times. “We’ll be rested, and our stomachs will be full.”

  “And we’ll be together.”

  Rebel hugs me and asks. “Is the baby moving?”

  His worry breaks my heart. Losing his unborn brother is the one trauma Rebel can’t rebound from, and my newest pregnancy leaves him always afraid.

  But for tonight, we’re safe. Probably for tomorrow too. I can’t get comfortable, though. I tried that when we moved into the basement apartment, and I found a job. I let myself hope, which made giving up our new life harder.

  Still, I can trust in the idea of a day and a half of peace. It’s far more than we’ve enjoyed in a long time.

  THE HOTHEAD

  My mother panics when Scarlet and I rush in her direction. She throws up her hands and asks if Pop is okay. My sister and I share a smile at how Mom’s still sweet on her idiot husband. Then we herd her outside to the front yard.

  “Jack got another woman pregnant, and this time it might be for real,” Scarlet blurts out.

  “Condoms,” Mom says to me. “They’ll keep your penis healthy.”

  “Hey,” I gripe as my ego fights back, “Dad knocked you up, and Bailey said he was a whore back in the day. So, you know, condoms, Mom.”

  “Yeah, and he gave me gonorrhea!” Mom cries.

  Scarlet and I gasp in unison. My temper flares even hotter, and I’m ready to kick my father’s ass for thirty-year-old sins.

  Mom bursts into wild laughter. “Look at your faces,” she taunts, applauding herself. “Your father used condoms until we were serious. He was clean. Stop judging your pop when we should be judging Jack.”

  “I thought I used a condom,” I mutter.

  Scarlet nudges me. “Then maybe it’s not yours.”

  “She says there was no one else, and I’m just not getting an immaculate conception vibe out of this situation.”

  “Is she the woman you were writing poetry about?” Mom teases, and Scarlet laughs.

  “Funny.”

  “You’re so sweet when you’re sweet,” Mom coos while hugging me. “And now you might be a daddy.”

  “I thought you’d be more upset.”

  “With the last girl, I got my hopes up that you’d give me a grandbaby. This time, I refuse any emotional investment until we see the DNA test.”

  “That’s smart thinking,” Scarlet says, hugging our mom. “But even if Georgia’s lying about how many dicks she enjoyed months ago, she needs our help.”

  “Why?”

  “She’s suffering from an evil ex and his crazy family. They tried bringing outside law into Conroe.”

  I hate how Scarlet knows more about Georgia than I do. Grumpy now, I barely notice Mom patting my clenched jaw.

  “Tomorrow, I’m going to take the info we have,” I mutter, “and work with the guys to figure out who these people were today. Then we’ll deal with them.”

  “And I’ll get Georgia into a doctor. Her kid too. Make sure they’re healthy.”

  “I want to go to that.”

  “No,” Scarlet says, shaking her head.

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to protect you. Just in case she admits the baby belongs to someone else.”

  “I don’t care if it does. I want Georgia.”

  My sister rolls her blue eyes. “You don’t know her.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Because you’re stupid,” Scarlet growls and pushes me. “And it’s my job to protect my idiot brother.”

  “Loser.”

  “Fart stink.”

  “I’m going inside,” Mom says while I try to knock down Scarlet.

  Once we’re alone, Scarlet stops threatening to kick me in the crotch and sighs. “I hope she’s telling the truth and you actually make things work. I’d love for you to be sweet to one woman rather than chasing random pussy.”

  “If this ex of Georgia’s is dangerous, should we worry about him showing up?”

  “She said he’s in prison.”

  “You’re going to give me all the info she gave you. The club will handle those people.”

  “One’s a cop,” Scarlet says, following my gaze to the quiet country road.

  “Not from Conroe, so I don’t give a shit.”

  “Let’s see if Bubba and the rest of your meathead squad are as thrilled about starting shit with a bunch of anti-government weirdos.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll catch you up on the details once Georgia and Rebel are asleep, and the house is quiet, and we can speak in private.”

  I’m ready to demand my sister tell me everything this fucking minute. We’re exposed out here. What if those people are watching us? The farm is off the road, but the land is flat. Someone could be sitting at the road, watching with a camera, planning to attack. Or they could use a drone to spy on us.

  Before I can share my concerns with Scarlet, Mom hurries back outside. Her body language agitates me even more.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “Her bump might be filled with your baby,” Mom says and throws her arms around me. “My sixth grandbaby.”

  Scarlet laughs as our mother snuggles me. “So much for not getting emotionally invested.”

  “I know I shouldn’t, but she smiled at me, and then I saw her boy, and he’s such a handsome child. You know how I love handsome children,” Mom says, patting my cheek. “You were such a sweet baby.”

  Pinching my cheeks, Scarlet nods. “He was such a cutie.”

  “I’m killing her ex-husband.”

  “I think they’re still married,” Scarlet says.

  “Then I’ll make her a widow.”

  “Still such a cutie.”

  Mom cups my face. “You’ll do the right thing. You always do.”

  Scarlet gives me an amused frown. “Well, maybe not always.”

  “He does his best,” Mom insists.

  “Well, mostly.”

  Nodding, Mom adds, “He tries to do his best.”

  “Hey,” I mutter when they keep backtracking on the praise.

  “You’re perfect,” Mom says and takes my hand. “Phoebe said dinner is ready.”

  “Let’s be normal,” Scarlet suggests. “We don’t want to scare Georgia, especially since her ex’s family sounds nuts.”

  “Poor thing has a black eye. I’m assuming no one we know did that.”

  “No, it was an out-of-town bitch,” Scarlet explains, “but one of the Rossiya girls tasered her. Urine was excreted apparently. Very exciting stuff that I hope was caught on security video. I’d love a copy.”

  Mom walks into the kitchen and helps corral the twins for dinner. In the dining room, my nieces set large dishes of food on the 12-foot-long table. Rebel follows them around, doing whatever they do. Georgia, meanwhile, stares at Phoebe as if her life depends on it.

  “You can sit next to me,” I say, swiping her hand and tugging her gently away from the kitchen and into the adjoining dining room. “And Rebel can sit on the other side. First, though, you should meet my mom and nephews.”

  Georgia isn’t hiding her fear as well now. I assume she’s too tired to pretend. Fortunately, my mom is the sweetest woman on the planet.

  “This is Maddy and my nephews, Bowie,” I say, pointing at the dark-haired toddler trying to break free of his grandma’s arms, “and Lemmy.” I pick up the blond boy, who immediately wipes slobber on me. “Dude, seriously, you’re killing my cool vibe.”

  Lemmy laughs despite having no clue what I mean. He just thinks I’m hilarious. In fact, he laughs whenever he sees me up close. I’
m not an insecure guy, but this kid always makes me wonder what he finds so damn funny about my face?

  While I frown at my laughing nephew, Mom can barely keep her hands away from Georgia’s bump.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “A little tired,” Georgia lies since she looks ready to drop.

  Mom sees what I do and guides Georgia to the chair I pointed out earlier. Lemmy, meanwhile, calms down and catches his breath. Then he looks at my face and bursts into laughter again.

  “Dammit, Scarlet, your kid is making me feel bad.”

  Unfortunately, my sister and her woman are already laughing at my reaction. I scoop up Bowie, who keeps moving his legs as if he’s still running. Neither kid seems thrilled with being up high.

  “Your sisters were more impressed by me.”

  “We still are,” Cady announces, sitting at the table now. I hear her explain to Rebel how he should join her on the kid side since it’s better.

  I dump Bowie into his high chair, and he immediately tries to free himself. Lemmy slides into his spot with ease, now rosy-cheeked from laughing himself tired.

  With the boys locked into their chairs and unable to escape, I find Georgia watching me. Her gaze is unreadable. Is she awestruck by my ability to handle them both or disgusted by whatever the hell Lemmy sees? Rubbing my face, I wonder if I should check my appearance in the mirror.

  A smile slowly graces her gorgeous face, and I decide I must look fine. Walking around the table, I plop down next to her. Nothing smooth about my clingy bullshit or how I’m desperate for her approval. This neediness was the same shit I went through at the bar.

  If Georgia smiled, I felt like a million bucks. If she pulled away, I turned into a scolded kid. I now realize many of her reactions came from a life with an abusive asshole. But that doesn’t change how a simple frown from Georgia makes me willing to beg for a smile.

  But she doesn’t need me to grovel. Georgia only craves safety, which is something I can provide.

  She smiles easier once Rebel waves from his spot with the kids. When her gaze returns to mine, she clearly wants to say something. Whether from fear or fatigue, Georgia only smiles.