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

by Hunter, Bijou

  “Okay, so now what?” I ask.

  “Hegseth realized he was outnumbered and left Conroe. A couple hours later, the Milkweed sheriff called our sheriff to ask how to handle the situation. Basically, they want the boy returned without having to go through the courts. The fucker even claimed doing it this way would protect Georgia from charges. All bullshit.”

  “We need to kill these fuckers,” I growl, wanting to leave now to hunt down anyone who’s hurt Georgia.

  Bubba nods. “Sure, but how many fuckers are we looking at?”

  “Why is this our problem?” Ron asks.

  “Did you miss the part where she’s carrying my kid?” I growl, throwing a metal napkin holder at him.

  Ron ducks and immediately snarls at me, “So now we have to take on a police department in another town?”

  “Sit it out, bitch. No one needs your ass.”

  “Will you two shut the fuck up?” Bubba asks, sounding bored before splashing water at us.

  Dickie laughs at the drama because he’s a happy fucking guy.

  “What’s the plan?” Butch asks, trying to get us back on track.

  “First, we assume these assholes will return and try to grab Georgia. I listened in on the call with the Milkweed sheriff, and they aren’t just after the kid. The asshole said they’d be willing to let Georgia come back for Rebel’s sake. It’s a con. They’re going to grab them both.”

  “We need eyes on their town,” Jace says, standing up and leaving the shadows as if he’s finally woken up enough to give a fuck. “We can keep Conroe on alert and send armed guards everywhere Georgia goes, but for how fucking long?”

  “What do you suggest?” Bubba asks.

  Before Jace can answer, I stand up and grunt because forming words gets difficult when I’m this pissed. “I say we ride through that fuckhole and let them know what they’re dealing with.”

  “All seven of us?” Bubba asks. “That’ll be quite a show.”

  “We call in reinforcements. Really scare the shit out of them.”

  Before Bubba can respond, Jace steps between my cousin and me. “Let’s table that idea for the time being.”

  “Why?”

  “We don’t have seven guys currently. Notice how Tommy isn’t at the meeting.”

  One of our new members has spent weeks down in Memphis, fucking around with his ex-wife and kids. I’m not sure what the deal is, but daddy duty keeps him there rather than here.

  “Then what do you suggest, Obi-Wan?” Dickie asks, snickering at his reference.

  “We’ll send someone into Milkweed to learn who’s who.”

  “I’ll go,” I blurt out.

  Jace shakes his head before I finish speaking. It’s like the fucker knew what I’d say. He truly is wise when awake.

  “And if the cops stop you and check your ID, you’ll link them back here. No, right now, they don’t know shit about us.”

  “Then who?” Bubba asks.

  “When Sawyer, Kiki, and I dropped by Ellsberg recently, Sylvie was looking to start trouble.”

  “How is sending jailbait into that weird fucking town a good idea?” Ron demands.

  “Sylvie is legal, and she’s sneaky, and I’ve seen her cry on command,” Jace says, ignoring our club brother’s tone. “She’s interested in kicking ass, and this could be a good experience for her. So, we’ll send her into Milkweed and get a few of her brothers to go along to play lookout. Sylvie can get info without setting off any alarms. And if they check her ID, it’ll point them to Ellsberg.”

  “Then what?” I ask, unhappy to have the problem shoved off to someone else.

  “We take what we learn and decide who needs killing and who will back off with minimal violence.”

  Bubba doesn’t speak immediately. Mister Biker President loves to make us stew while he ponders the meaning of fucking life. Or he’s communing psychically with his wife, Soso, who enjoys bossing around the rest of us.

  “Fine. We’ll ask Sylvie and a few other Majors to check out Milkweed. Vaughn will have to okay it, of course.”

  Bubba gives Jace an approving nod, and our uncle gives him a return nod. It’s annoying as fuck since I should be in charge of everything related to Georgia.

  As the other guys leave to do their legit work, Bubba asks me to remain. Butch also hangs back. The only reason he isn’t the VP in Conroe is that he doesn’t like talking and would rather hide in the shadows. Jace is the same way. Well, except he speaks just fucking fine. His silence is usually related to his lack of interest in speaking up.

  Bubba crosses his arms and holds my gaze until my temper wears itself out. These days, he’s got that top dog persona down pat.

  “We’re talking private about this so, no bullshit, Jack. We need to know if this woman is a junkie?”

  I clench my jaw so tight that my teeth will hurt for the rest of the day. “She’s no junkie.”

  “Think she can tell us more info about the Hegseth family and their network in Milkweed?”

  “I don’t know. She’s been away from them for a while. Who knows what it’s like now?”

  “Are you saying she doesn’t know, or you don’t want to ask?”

  “Both,” I mutter and then step closer. “Are you trying to weasel out of helping her? If the answer is yes, I can do this shit myself.”

  “Will you calm the fuck down?” Bubba asks, glancing at Butch, who imitates a statue so well that I’m not sure if he’s even fucking breathing anymore. “Even if she wasn’t carrying your kid and Soso didn’t take these things personally, I’d still have to deal with those fucking Milkweed people. They came into my town and tried to bully my cops. If we don’t crush them, others might get the idea that we’re soft.”

  “And we’re not fucking soft,” Butch hisses, proving he’s still alive.

  Eyeing the men, I feel on the spot. Bubba and his brother routinely gang up on me. It’s what they’ve always done. Their brother Buzz joins in too. The three fucking musketeers versus me. Well, unless Scarlet had my back, but she stopped successfully taking down the Davies brothers once they hit six feet tall.

  “What’s the living arrangement situation for Georgia and her kid?” Bubba asks me.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you need help finding her a place?”

  “She’s staying with me.”

  “Then why did you say you didn’t know?” Butch asks.

  “You two with your fucking tag-team shit.”

  Bubba sighs, and I roll my eyes at his annoyance. “Jack, you’re doing that thing again where you put up walls between you and everyone else.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “We’re family,” he says and pats my shoulder. “You care about this woman, meaning we care about this woman. Just like when I needed your help with Soso’s ex-boyfriend, you were there. Now we’re here for you.”

  I glare at them until I’m worn down by Bubba’s calm crap and Butch’s statue stare.

  “Look, fine, I don’t know anything about Georgia or her kid. I don’t know if she wants me for real or if she’s just going along because that asshole beat her for so long that she can’t say no to anyone.”

  “He hit her?” Butch asks as if the thought never occurred to him.

  “She flinches like someone who’s been pushed around. Kinda like Soso acted after her ex attacked her. Or Sissy acts when she’s around strange men. Jumpy, you know?”

  The men nod in unison like fucking twins.

  Sighing, I shrug. “I don’t know her story. We hooked up one night. But this woman means everything to me. I don’t care if it’s my kid. I want her safe, and I’ll kill anyone who fucks with her. That’s it.”

  Bubba gives me a curt nod. “And we’ll help you fuck with anyone who fucks with her, but you have to ditch the chip on your shoulder and stop acting as if we’re on different teams.”

  “I blame our parents for making us competitive.”

  Bubba nods since his mother might be the most competit
ive of the four Johansson siblings. “I agree with that, but we’re still family, and we’re all in this club together. If Ron had a pregnant chick in trouble, we’d help him, and I can barely stand the guy.”

  “He’s doing too much crank,” Butch grumbles, sounding like a bitchy old lady.

  “That’s a problem for another day,” Bubba replies and checks his phone. “Soso said Scarlet got Georgia an appointment with a doctor. Are you going to that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you also handle your lawns for the day or do you need someone to do them?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Figure it out and ask for help.”

  “Sure, Dad,” I gripe, fighting a grin. “You’re a year older than me, so why do you both act elderly?”

  “It just seems like we do because you’re as mature as a fucking five-year-old.”

  “Eat it, Davies,” I announce before walking away and flipping them off without looking back.

  Outside, I text Scarlet to ask about the appointment. Since it’s not until the afternoon, I consider ditching work and returning to the house where Georgia and her kid are now awake.

  But then I remember how much time Butch and Bubba took off when they had their babies. I’ll need to think long-term for when mine is born.

  My kid. The idea seems surreal despite feeling the baby kick last night.

  I drive to the Johansson Construction office, where I have my equipment parked. During the ride, I allow this new feeling to settle in deep. Georgia and I are having a baby. Of all the women I could have accidentally knocked up during a one-night stand, I scored with the one chick I can’t stop thinking about.

  That’s fucking fate right there.

  THE DOORMAT

  I wake up disoriented from sleeping too long. My eyes open to find an unfamiliar side table with an old-fashioned round alarm clock facing me. Having remained in the same position for too long, I struggle to get my body moving.

  Turning over, I find Rebel staring at me. A few seconds pass where he doesn’t blink, move, or show any sign of life. My brain—groggy from sleep and paranoid to a fault—believes he’s dead. Because I let my guard down, my son is dead.

  Then Rebel smiles, and I realize he’s just watching me.

  “Did you sleep okay?” I ask, still struggling with the thought of him being gone.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “There are no do-overs in life,” I mutter before making myself shut up. “I slept for a long time.”

  “You were tired, and this bed is so comfy.”

  “Are you hungry?” I ask, trying to sit up.

  My boy is such a happy creature. Years ago, he teetered on the edge of becoming a little version of Patrick. I understood why he’d cling to the stronger parent. I was the one who got knocked down, Patrick was the one who stood tall. To a child, the victor was clear. Why would he want to be like me when he could be a winner?

  But Patrick has no love to give anyone. Eventually, he lashed out at his adoring son, and Rebel returned to my stable comfort. I might be the loser on the ground, but I’m predictable. I always love Rebel and never hurt him. I smile to make him smile. I never laugh when he cries.

  Rebel’s been mine ever since, but I still can’t believe he remains optimistic in a world that doesn’t care about him. I grew out of that when I was five and woke up to find my mom had ditched me for the weekend. No one in my life would ever help me because there was nothing about me worth helping. I wasn’t special. They weren’t special. Nothing was special. Life was to be experienced rather than enjoyed. Anyone who said different was lying.

  I still hear my mom’s voice in my head sometimes, reminding me that nothing matters.

  Then I look at Rebel and decide she’s wrong. I might not matter, and she didn’t either, but my boy has value.

  We get up and use the small guest bathroom. Looking in the mirror, I’m relieved to find less swelling around my eye.

  “What are we doing today?” Rebel asks as we walk into the hallway.

  “I think Scarlet wants to take us to the doctor.”

  “To check the baby?”

  “And you.”

  “And you.”

  Grinning, I take his hand. Even in this homey farmhouse full of children and warmth, I’m nervous. I don’t like surprises, and there’s no roadmap for this new direction in our lives.

  We find Phoebe and Scarlet sitting in the living room with their twin boys between them. The brunette stops reading the book, and the four of them look up at us.

  Scarlet stands in a smooth motion that I haven’t been able to do since the three-month point in my pregnancy. My bump showed up earlier this time around. The kicking too. I read symptoms can happen faster with each pregnancy. Pushing aside the memories of my lost babies, I force a smile on my face.

  “Good morning,” I say in a chipper voice.

  Scarlet’s long legs get her across the wide room quickly, and I flinch instinctively. She hesitates, glances back at Phoebe, who says something with her dark eyes. The women share a moment, and then Scarlet looks back at me and smiles.

  “How are you feeling?” she asks and turns her smile to Rebel waiting with a big one of his own.

  “Fine. Do you need me to do anything?”

  Losing her smile, Scarlet herds Rebel and me like I watched her dogs do with the goats yesterday. We end up in the empty kitchen.

  “Let’s get you fed first. You have appointments with a local doctor at one.”

  Scarlet explains Jack will meet us there. He’s working right now.

  “I don’t know how you handle schooling,” Scarlet says after Rebel and I choose to eat cereal rather than have her cook anything, “but we have an educational co-op. That’s just a fancy way of saying we’re homeschooling with several friends. Right now, the girls are working online. Is that something Rebel might enjoy?”

  Immediately nodding, my son is excited to do whatever everyone else does. My mind is on the doctor appointment and seeing Jack. I feel uneasy in this house now. What am I supposed to do to repay their kindness?

  I feel Scarlet watching me. She talks to Rebel about school. He says he never went to a real one and that his grandma was his teacher. I don’t add how the Hegseth family thought I was too stupid to teach him anything. I was a high school dropout, after all.

  I wish I had more of a temper. That I could think of those people and get so angry that I’d be ready to face the world.

  But I’m tired. I can’t even remember a time when I wasn’t nervous and searching for something. Even all those years with Patrick, I kept waiting for him to kill me or throw me out. On rare occasions, I hoped he’d die. Not that I figured life would be easier without him, but I was sick of the man.

  “I feel like you’re ready to bolt,” Scarlet says after she sets up Rebel on a laptop.

  I ignore her comment. It’s meant to start trouble. I’m not falling for that, so I say, “I don’t know what grade level he’s at.”

  “He’s working on fourth-grade stuff. If it’s too hard, we’ll move him down. If it’s too easy, we’ll move him up. We work at our own pace,” Scarlet says and then wraps an arm around my shoulders. “You can’t run off, Georgia. My brother’s heart would be broken. Now I won’t make any threats. You’ve suffered enough from bullying assholes. Just understand that I need you to be safe so my brother will be sane.”

  “It’s his baby,” I mumble, scared of her tone.

  “Okay, and if it’s not his, that’s okay too. Just be honest,” she says, staring too deeply into my eyes. “We’re not a bunch of inbred hillbilly fuckers like those people you lived with. We’re nice and normal. Just me and my wife with our five kids on a farm with our dogs and goats. We’re living the American dream right here. Nothing to fear.”

  I frown at her weird tone, and Scarlet blows hair from her eyes. “Jack cares about you.”

  “I care about him too.”

  “You don’t know him.”

&nbs
p; “No.”

  “He doesn’t know you either.”

  Swallowing hard, I sigh. “There’s nothing to know. I’m just a woman he slept with. We were drinking. We couldn’t hear each other. I don’t know if he would have wanted me under different circumstances. Now I’m all busted up and fat, and I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

  “Good lord,” Phoebe says, turning the corner and frowning at her wife. “You’re making her cry.”

  “I was nice.”

  “I know, but you have that Johansson way about you.”

  “Eat it, Barnes,” Scarlet grumbles while Phoebe hugs me.

  “Jack was looking for you,” Phoebe says, guiding me to the living room where the twins now play with blocks. “He doesn’t go searching for one-night stands. That means something.”

  “I can’t see me,” I babble. “Like I’ve been nothing for so long that I can’t see what other people see. I look in the mirror, and I’m just nothing. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here.”

  I know I’m repeating myself, but I normally have a purpose. I watch over Rebel or figure out what we’ll eat or prepare for the Hegseth family to show up. Back in Milkweed, I cleaned, cooked, watched Rebel, and prepared for Patrick to attack.

  “Today, you start over,” Scarlet says. “You stop being the woman you were, and you become someone new.”

  “Who?”

  Phoebe wipes my cheeks with a tissue. “You’re like a baby. Everything is new and scary, and you’re not sure where you belong in the world. But you won’t be a baby forever. You’ll grow and change and find your way.”

  I know bursting into tears is the absolute wrong way to handle her kind words. “Why are you so nice to me?”

  “Because we’re nice people,” Scarlet says and then frowns at Phoebe. “What? We are.”

  “Georgia, you’re going to sit here with us and talk about babies. Easy conversation like about how they poop and cry and how good they smell. Then we’ll have lunch. You can help us, or you can watch. Nothing complicated. Then we’ll go to the doctor, and Jack will be there.”

  “I don’t know what to say to him.”

  “Say nothing. He’s a man. He’ll do all the talking if you let him.”