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

by Hunter, Bijou

  Jack’s vulnerability breaks down all my protections. I’ve never seen a man so open. No, wait, I did that night in the honkytonk. Jack looked effortlessly cool and sexy. I was entranced by him. Intimidated too. Then he’d raised his voice or made a sudden move. Immediately, I’d worry I was in trouble.

  When I reacted in fear, Jack adjusted his stance or tone. He changed for me. After he kissed me, I witnessed more than heat. Jack needed me to understand him. Of course, I couldn’t because the bar was so loud and we were drunk. I’m not even certain what we talked about during the last hour before walking outside.

  Now I can hear him just fine, and what he’s saying is clear. Life doesn’t come with any promises. True, I’m not just another chick claiming he’s the father of my baby. Yes, his feelings for me are special. But only time will tell if our attraction can be something more.

  Am I willing to give this dangerous man a chance? Or did the last one kill so much of me that I have nothing left for Jack?

  THE HOTHEAD

  Having missed Georgia’s birthday this year, I ask what she did on her big day. She says she splurged by ordering a milkshake from McDonald's. I think back to that June day when she was sharing her birthday dessert with Rebel.

  If my memory is correct, I spent that week chasing down local moonshiners who refused to pay the club. Whether I was sitting around waiting for them to show up, running through the woods after the two brothers, or pounding on the twats, Georgia remained in my thoughts. I was certain I spotted her in late May but then lost track of the woman at a store.

  Now I’ve found her, and we’re learning about each other. After dinner, Rebel bonds with his new gang of friends. My sister and Phoebe entertain Butch and Sissy. But I’m all about the brunette beauty on the back porch.

  Georgia answers everything I ask, but I feel her editing her responses. She might be embarrassed by the truth. Isn’t that what always happens at the start of a relationship? Each person shows off their best side.

  While our relationship might not be normal, this is a date. I hold her hand, steal kisses whenever I think she’s open to more affection, and back off when she looks like I’m crowding her.

  We keep our conversation light at first. She shares how she was a nerd in school who liked writing essays and hanging out in the library. I tell her that I was an ugly kid, but she doesn’t believe me.

  “I wasn’t ugly until nine. Then I got hot again at eleven, but for two years, my body didn’t fit my head.”

  “Maddy said you were an angel.”

  “Moms can’t see flaws. Can you see them with Rebel?” I ask, trying to bring the boy into our conversation as much as possible. That way, she’ll know I’m not threatened by or hostile toward him.

  “Yes,” Georgia says, instinctively rubbing her belly. I follow suit. I love her bump. Occasionally, I’ll feel tiny movements. Other times, our little guy goes full Bruce Lee.

  “I see Rebel clearly. I know he isn’t book smart. I know he needs a haircut, and he’s getting too attached to this house and your family. if something happens, his heart will hurt, but he’ll also be okay.”

  Georgia glances into the house, and I wonder where my nephews are currently. They’re rarely this quiet.

  Sighing, Georgia rests her head against the wall. “I know he misses his grandma even though she’s mean. He also misses his dad even though he’s meaner. I see Rebel clearly. He’s a person with flaws, just like everyone else. But I love him completely, and I haven’t loved anyone in a long time.”

  “What about your parents?” I ask, seeing a chance to tread into more personal territory.

  “I never met my father. My mom said he was a thug, so she didn’t tell him about me. Before my grandma died, she said my father was married and didn’t want me. I never knew what was true. Both of them were known to lie.”

  “Is your mom still alive?”

  “I don’t know,” Georgia says, wrapping her arms around her belly protectively. “She moved away when Rebel was around five. I had called and asked if we could stay with her. She probably feared we’d show up unannounced, so she left town, and I have no idea what happened to her,” Georgia says and then sighs. “Honestly, I don’t care. We weren’t close. She never seemed like she wanted me.”

  I expect Georgia to tear up when speaking of her mother’s abandonment. Instead, she seems more tired than emotional.

  “No, I do remember her being nice when I was little,” Georgia says, and I sense she’s never really talked about her mom with anyone before. “I saw pictures of her seeming happy with me. Maybe she lost interest gradually, and I can’t remember when things changed.”

  “She sounds like a bitch.”

  Georgia’s eyes widen as if she’s panicking. Then she blurts out, “Patrick was her boyfriend.”

  I stare into her frightened gaze. Finally, I shrug. “I don’t know how to respond to that.”

  “There’s no good response,” Georgia mumbles. Her expression makes me think she’ll stop sharing. Then she rubs her belly and sighs. “I slept with my mom’s boyfriend, and then I got pregnant, and she kicked me out.”

  “I’m going to be honest here, and say, ‘What the fuck?’ Having seen Patrick’s driver’s license, I don’t get why anyone would want that guy.”

  “He was nice to me,” she stammers, looking ashamed. “He pretended to care. It probably sounds gross, but I think I wanted a dad. I was also at an age where I wanted a boyfriend. He was like both, but everything was a lie. Patrick didn’t find anything interesting about me besides my age and virginity.”

  I take her hand in mine and kiss her palm. Georgia shivers at my affection. Then I stare into her pale brown eyes, I smile. “I’m going to kill him so very slowly.”

  Georgia starts to smile, changes her mind, gives me an upside-down grin, and then goes blank. I should back off and allow her to figure out what she’s feeling. Instead, I focus on her bump. My nails skim the tight flesh under the maternity top. Goosebumps appear on her arms mostly hidden under my jacket. I watch her gaze warm, and her breathing increases.

  My dick grows thick in my jeans despite knowing it’ll find no relief. Georgia swallows hard and crosses her arms across her chest.

  “I ruined my life by giving into Patrick,” she says and holds my gaze. “When he paid attention to me, I knew on some level that he was no good. But everyone else seemed to do whatever they wanted. Why couldn’t I be a little bad too?”

  Her husky voice teases me with a desire that I’d love to satisfy back in my RV. It’s so fucking close. No one would even notice we were gone.

  Instead, Georgia shuts down her lust with a long exhale. “But nothing for me is ever free. Being bad with Patrick left me pregnant. Just like that, I didn’t have any choices. I turned to Patrick, who threatened to kill me if I had an abortion. I turned to my mom, who kicked me out of our apartment. A little bit of bad led to nothing but trouble,” she says as her eyes reveal too many years of living in fear. “But, at least, I got Rebel out of it. Of course, that means I can’t really even regret the choice I made with Patrick. I’d be saying I regret my boy.”

  “Naw, I get it,” I whisper, wanting her to feel understood even if I don’t have a clue what she went through. “I wish things were different that night at the bar. I should have stayed sober enough to make real plans with you. But that means we wouldn’t have gotten busy in your SUV and made this little dude,” I say, returning my hand to her stomach. “But I do wish things had gone down differently. Ideally, we’d make our baby, go on a second date, and then I’d be able to help you when those shit stains found you.”

  “We don’t live in a world of ideals.”

  “No, and I’m not going to pretend as if knowing me will magically fix every bad thing you went through. But we have a second chance here, and I’m all in.”

  Georgia stares at me, but she doesn’t make any promises. Too bad I’m not the kind of man to take that shit in stride.

  “What’s yo
ur silence mean?”

  “What if you’re my new Patrick?” she asks with a wariness that I’m not expecting.

  “Are you asking if I’ll hurt you?”

  “No, more like smother me with your needs until I’m nothing but your maid.”

  “I’m very self-sufficient.”

  Georgia narrows her eyes. “I feel like you’re a handful, and I’ll end up spending all day slaving away to make you happy.”

  “Where are you getting that from?” I ask, shocked by her accusation.

  “You seem high-maintenance. Dramatic too. Whiny even.”

  I open my mouth to complain. Where the hell is this coming from? Has Scarlet been talking shit about me?

  Then Georgia breaks into a smile. “Just kidding.”

  “For fuck’s sake,” I mutter, exhaling loudly.

  Thinking she needs to apologize, she whispers, “Hell yeah.”

  Giving her a half-grin, I kiss the palm of her hand again. “Feisty is a sexy look on you, Georgia Russo.”

  “If I really get to start fresh, I hope the new me is confident.”

  “The old you was feisty too.”

  “I don’t remember that.”

  “You teased me at the theater. And you laughed a lot at the bar. I think you’re actually very feisty. I just hope I can keep up.”

  Georgia gives me a crafty smile, and my dick gets so hard that I can barely think straight. I finally stand up and adjust my pants. Georgia lets out a raucous laugh much like when I couldn’t stop banging around in the back of her SUV. That night, booze made shit easier. Tonight, we’re both sober, but Georgia still has me as lightheaded and overheated as when I was stumbling around drunk off my ass.

  THE DOORMAT

  As addicted as I feel to Jack already, I’m relieved to be alone with Rebel later in bed. I need a break from the noise in my head and the way my heart races. I need the quiet I share with my son. That comfortable calm we have together that I’ve never felt with anyone else.

  After a long, exhausting day, Rebel doesn’t want to talk. He can barely keep his eyes open when he joins me for bed.

  “Tomorrow, I have school,” he mumbles before falling asleep.

  I smile at how quickly he settles into this new situation. Can I choose to do the same? Is it really that easy? To just wake up with the plan of feeling free and happy? Tomorrow, I’ll find out.

  Rebel and I wake up after everyone else again. We’re not used to enjoying a soft bed in a safe home. The chance to sleep late is too tempting.

  Once awake, I learn Jack’s gone to work. I eat breakfast before helping Rebel with schoolwork. He gets frequently stuck on words, and he’s really behind on math. I think of how Marsha wouldn’t let me help Rebel with schoolwork. I was a dropout. What did I know? Well, she clearly didn’t know how to help him either.

  “Jack said we can live here as long as we want,” I tell Rebel when he gets frustrated and embarrassed by how much trouble he’s having. “Every weekday, we’ll be able to work on the laptop and practice.”

  Rebel blows his bangs out of his eyes in a way that reminds me of Scarlet. “I want to be smart.”

  “You are smart.”

  “The program says I’m not.”

  His frustrated tone sounds so much like Patrick that I lose my breath. During these moments, I struggle to deal with my boy. When Patrick was angry, I tried to disappear. When he was tense, I tiptoed around him. When he was too quiet, I prayed nothing agitated him.

  But Rebel isn’t Patrick. I need to take charge, even if the old fear tempts me to return to my bad habits.

  “Marsha was a bad teacher,” I say, putting the blame on someone else. “And I didn’t teach you anything when we were on the run.”

  Rebel gives me a dark frown, assigning blame in his head. I hold his gaze. “Now, you have the chance to learn what you didn’t learn before. That’s up to you.”

  “What if I’m not smart?”

  “Smart doesn’t mean one thing. You can be bad at tests and still be smart. You can be great at tests and still be stupid.”

  Blinking a lot, Rebel struggles with his temper. His blue eyes flash to Janis working on her laptop nearby. She’s wearing headphones over her auburn hair, and I doubt she can hear us.

  “I liked school,” I say when Rebel doesn’t speak. “I loved reading and writing. Math wasn’t as fun, but I did okay. Maybe I can be a better teacher than Marsha was now that we have all this technology to help.”

  Rebel flickers between frustration and shame. “Was Dad good at school?” he asks, and I fight a shudder.

  “I don’t know. Your father never told me the truth about anything.”

  Rebel sighs. “I feel stupid.”

  “Scarlet said we can work on easier stuff if this level is too hard.”

  “But this is my level.”

  Cupping his face, I force him to look at me. “Rebel, you can choose to focus on what you can’t do, or you can focus on what you can do. Just know your father only saw what he didn’t have, and that was one reason he was mean.”

  “I’m like him.”

  “No.”

  “You don’t want me here,” Rebel says, raising his voice.

  “You’re my everything.”

  “No, you have the baby and Jack. You don’t want me.”

  Rebel balls up his fists, and I want so badly to back away from him. He’s only a boy, but I’ve spent a decade ducking violence. It’s my nature to back away and brace myself.

  “Do you want to take a walk with me?”

  “So, you can ditch me?” he demands, glaring at me with an angry pout on his normally-sweet face.

  I stand up and hold out my hand. “I’m going outside to look at the goats.”

  Rebel glares at me, refusing to take my hand. He only follows me outside because he doesn’t want his friends to see him crying. We put on our shoes and walk out to the back porch. I spot Scarlet working in the barn with Cady and Yancy. Walking toward a group of little goats, I don’t know what to tell Rebel to make him feel better.

  “He doesn’t want me here,” Rebel says, having stopped near the back porch and now crying loudly. “He wants me to leave.”

  I walk back to Rebel and kneel before him like Jack did with me last night. When I wrap my arms around my baby, he pretends not to want my hug. He’s angry because anger is easier than sadness and fear.

  “I don’t want another mean man,” I tell Rebel when he finally relents and lets me hold him. “If Jack didn’t want you around, I wouldn’t want him around.”

  “But you can have a house and food, and the baby won’t die,” Rebel cries, pushing me away while gripping my shirt. “You can be safe. I’m keeping you from having good stuff.”

  “I’d rather live in the SUV with you than be safe without you.”

  “You said I was going to live in Milkweed.”

  “That was when I didn’t have a choice,” I mumble, wishing I had explained things better to him in the past. “Do you think I want to give you up for some man?”

  “He wants you. He wants his baby. He doesn’t want me.”

  “Scarlet said we can stay even if Jack and I hate each other. If he ever tries to send you away, I will hate him. You’re my baby. You’re the only good family I’ve ever had.”

  “But I’m bad at math.”

  “Baby, I don’t give a shit about math.”

  Still crying, Rebel laughs at my profanity. Then his anger is gone, and he just stares at me brokenhearted. “I want to stay with you and be with my brother.”

  “You will, Rebel.”

  “But I’m a Hegseth.”

  “No, you’re a Russo. You’re mine. Not theirs.”

  Rebel wipes his face. “I like it here. People are nice, but I feel like they want to play with me all the time, so they can take you away. They want you to get used to being away from me and then you won’t miss me when I go back to Milkweed.”

  “Never,” I say, stroking his back as he calms
down. “Scarlet wanted to help us before she knew about Jack and me. She’s just nice, and they really don’t like Sean and Ainsley. Now they have even more reason to help us.”

  Rebel wraps me tight in his arms. “Jack doesn’t like me.”

  “He doesn’t know you,” I say and decide to fix that problem. “Tonight, I’m having dinner in his RV. You can come with me. Then he can talk to you without all the other kids around. It’ll be us three.”

  “Four,” Rebel says and kneels down to hug my belly. “I want to take care of my brother.”

  “You will,” I say, caressing his head. “Jack and his family seem to be rich or powerful or something. Like they seem to run things around here. Like how the Hegseths are in Milkweed. I feel like they’ll help us.”

  Rebel sits on the grass, and I rest next to him. “It’s okay to get frustrated when you don’t know how to do something. But don’t only focus on what you can’t do or don’t have. That’s how your father thinks. Focus on what you like doing and what you’re good at. That’s how you usually think, and that’s why you took such good care of the baby and me all these months.”

  “I’m going to be a good brother.”

  Wrapping an arm around his narrow shoulders, I sigh. “I missed you yesterday. You were with your friends all day.”

  “You were with Jack.”

  “Not all day.”

  “I’ll spend more time with you.”

  “We can do schoolwork outside if you want. I like being outside.”

  “Me too.”

  “Jack likes being outside too. Maybe the three of us have other stuff in common.”

  Rebel nods and rests on his back. “Can we practice multiplication while looking at the clouds?”

  “Of course,” I say, rolling carefully onto my back. “I might need help getting up, though.”

  Laughing easier now, Rebel sounds more like himself. He’s been so brave for so long that this meltdown was overdue.