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

by Hunter, Bijou

  Jack takes my hand in his and rests them on my stomach. “I think Pop’s stuck in a rut. Life was good in Ellsberg, but nothing stays the same.”

  Jack kisses my forehead before continuing. “Scarlet and Phoebe wanted a fresh start. Of course, I had to follow. There was no room for me in the Ellsberg chapter. In Conroe, I had a chance to build something. Once Scarlet and I moved here, Mom was bound to follow. Pop could have retired and let my cousin Colton be the VP. He could have started a life here where he’d be the biggest badass, but he refuses to embrace change.”

  Though I want to say something reassuring, I don’t know anything about relationships or his parents.

  Instead of pretending to have the answers, I change the subject. “This weekend, Scarlet and Phoebe are playing at the disco place. Soso said I should come, and I’d like to go out with you.”

  Jack loses his tension and reveals a delicious smile. “Are you planning to take advantage of me like the last time we were at a bar together?”

  I roll my eyes and grin as his fingers stroke my hair. “I was so innocent that night,” he teases in a whisper. “Just a scared boy tempted by a gorgeous siren. You put me under your spell, and I remain happily under it still.”

  “That’s not how I remember that night at all.”

  “In your version, am I the sexiest fucker you’ve ever seen?”

  “Oh, yeah. I knew I should leave early, return to Rebel, and be responsible. I just couldn’t walk away from the sexiest fucker I’d ever seen.”

  “No, you couldn’t,” Jack murmurs, kissing me with more heat than I expect.

  His tongue against mine awakens all the best parts of my body. Breathing faster, I grip his shirt and lean into his embrace.

  I ought to be afraid of this scary yet sexy man. Fear definitely feels like the smart move, but I can’t do it. I have to be brave like when I ran from Milkweed. Blind courage is why I’m here right now, and it’s why I refuse to let Jack go.

  THE CHAPTER WHERE THE GANG’S ALL HERE

  THE HOTHEAD

  Each morning before I head to work, I peek in on Georgia and Rebel. The sight of their heads poking out of the top of all those blankets calms me in a way I’ve never felt before. I swear if I found the door locked one morning that I’d lose my shit trying to find the key. No way could I get through my day without checking on them.

  Rebel follows my nieces around everywhere. If they’re watching a movie, there he is. If they’re out back, kicking the ball around, there he is. Haydee and Hart show up every other day as usual. The boys—shyer and more reserved than the girls—bond quickly over the fact that they’re into superheroes. Doesn’t take much more for guys their age.

  Georgia’s days are spent working with Rebel on schoolwork and cleaning up around the house. On Thursday, I arrive home to find Mom and Georgia out front playing with the twins. Her big smile while chasing Bowie inspires a hot, almost painful feeling in my chest.

  Later, Georgia, Janis, and Yancy cook a set of casseroles. Her ease in working with them gives me that feeling again. As if I’m seeing the real Georgia hiding under the fear and pain. The Georgia she would have been if her path never crossed Patrick’s.

  That night in the bar, I saw glimpses of the real her. Even the crafty grin she gave me at the theater was a hint of who she might be. Every day, she pulls back another layer and reveals more of herself. And that part is what I’ve craved from the beginning.

  But I’m very fucking aware that Georgia's confidence comes from never leaving the farm.

  Out here, away from town, feels like another world. Almost no one drives by on an average day. We’re isolated in a way that can make some people antsy. For Georgia, she feels removed enough from the dangers of Milkweed that she forgets.

  But she can’t hide forever. Tomorrow, we plan to go out to Atlanta Disco to listen to music and hang out with friends. I’m not so sure what Georgia will be like once she’s surrounded by strangers in a crowded bar with possible threats lurking.

  Hell, I don’t know what I’ll be like, but I’m still excited to go out with Georgia on a real date.

  On Friday morning, Bubba texts that Sylvie, Denver, and Cavalry will meet us at the pub for lunch.

  I arrive around eleven to find Sylvie shoving one fry after another into her brother’s mouth. He doesn’t chew them, widening his mouth instead while she slides another one inside. The blond siblings don’t even acknowledge me when I sit down. Finally, ponytail-sporting Cavalry emerges from the restrooms and tells me hello.

  “What did you learn?” I ask.

  “Don’t be rude,” Cavalry says. “How are you, dude? How you feeling, dude? Is life treating you well, dude?”

  “What is this?” I ask as Sylvie struggles to add another fry to her brother’s stuffed mouth.

  Cavalry shrugs. “It’s a contest, dude.”

  “Why do you keep calling me ‘dude’?” I growl, leaning closer and wanting to punch his overly-chill face.

  “He’s stoned,” Sylvie says, giving up on her contest and studying me. “I don’t think he remembers your name,” she mumbles before adding, “Dude.”

  The three of them laugh. Even Denver who spits the food back into a plate before dipping one of the fries in ketchup and returning it to his mouth.

  “Gross.”

  “Don’t be so gruff, dude,” Denver says. “We’re all friends here.”

  “What did you find out?”

  “Kill the cheerleader, save the world,” Sylvie whispers. “You know, like the show.”

  “They were supposed to save the cheerleader,” Cavalry corrects.

  “I don’t believe that’s right.”

  While the three of them pull out their phones to search for the answer, I decide I need a beer to keep from throttling them. Though truth be told, I’m not sure I could take the siblings in a fight. The stoners are deceptively kickass.

  “Well done, big bro,” Sylvie says.

  “I know my useless pop culture.”

  “Can you please tell me what you found out?” I ask.

  “No,” Sylvie says, wiggling around in the booth, and I realize she’s pulling up her jeans. “These are Nevaeh’s, and her ass is wider. I need a fucking belt.”

  Seeing me losing my temper, Cavalry waves his hand. “We don’t want to repeat ourselves when Bubba gets here. Hold your horses, dude.”

  “My name is Jack.”

  “I can see why you’d be proud of that,” Denver taunts, inspiring snickers from his siblings.

  “Are you all stoned?”

  “Naw, dude, we’re just tired. Those motel mattresses sucked big-time.”

  Before I’m forced to test my luck in a fight against the hippies, Bubba arrives with Malibu on his hip.

  “My woman is visiting your woman again,” he says, sliding into the booth. Malibu and Sylvie shoot finger guns at each other.

  “How come she doesn’t talk more?” Sylvie asks Bubba.

  “She talks to people worth talking to.”

  “Ooh, sick burn, dude,” Cavalry says and nudges his smiling sister.

  “Can we please get to the Milkweed shit?” I demand.

  “Drink your beer and chill,” Denver says and slaps his phone on the table. “I’m assuming this place is clean of recording devices.”

  “No, there are plenty of them here,” Bubba says while trying to fix Malibu’s messy blonde hair. “I want to know what happens when I’m not here.”

  “Dude, you need more practice,” Cavalry mutters and leans over to fix the barrette in the kid’s hair. “You ought to ponytail this thing up.”

  “For fuck’s sakes,” I growl when they refuse to focus.

  “Fucks,” Malibu says and shoots me with her finger.

  Sylvie snickers at my expression, but Cavalry does finally get to the Milkweed problem.

  “You don’t need to kill all their cops,” he announces. “I don’t know if that’s good news or not, but the sheriff is an old turd. One of the de
puties is a complete wuss. They’ll never cause trouble on their own.”

  “The bad news,” Sylvie says, pulling up a picture on her brother’s phone, “is that you have half a dozen hardcore turds in Milkweed. Any of them would be willing to avenge their fallen friends.”

  “Six in addition to Sean Hegseth and the other deputy?” I ask.

  Sylvie nods. “Yeah, but no worries. We’ll do them all for a nominal fee.”

  “Not too nominal,” Denver corrects. “I have bills to pay.”

  “You have a job.”

  “You do too.”

  “Shut up,” Sylvie growls.

  “I’m killing the Hegseth assholes,” I announce to get them to stop bickering.

  “Fine, but I want this anal wart,” Sylvie says, swiping through the photos. “He tried to grab my boob. I had to scream out ‘the holy spirit’ to get him to back off.”

  “The butterface had a severe boner for this one,” Cavalry says while I frown at the shot of the smiling anal wart. “He said she would make a good broodmare. Had to look that shit up.”

  “He nearly grabbed my virginal melon,” Sylvie says, giggling with her brothers at the “melon” thing. “I want to do him, but I’m willing to share the others.”

  “We still need to figure out when to hit them,” Bubba says. “Do we do it now or wait until Patrick is released from prison? If we go before he’s out, he’ll be waiting for us.”

  “I can get him no problem,” Sylvie says, stealing one of her brother’s fries and offering another to Malibu.

  I shake my head at Bubba since I doubt he wants Denver’s slobber shared with his kid.

  “We’re good,” he tells Sylvie, who shoves the fry into Cavalry’s mouth.

  “What was I saying?” Sylvie asks. “Oh, yeah, this Patrick snatch will be super horny when he gets out. I’ll be able to snare him with no problems.”

  “No,” I mutter. “He’s mine.”

  “But you’re not his type, sweet cheeks,” Sylvie says and shares a laugh with her brothers.

  “You spend too much time together,” Bubba tells the three Majors siblings.

  “We’re starting our own motorcycle club,” Denver announces. “The Reapers are too old school and stationery. We’re going to be nomads. It’ll be great.”

  “And when will this take place?”

  “I don’t know. Ask me next week.”

  Bubba fights the urge to roll his eyes. Malibu distracts him by pointing at everything on the menu.

  While everyone goofs around, I look through Sylvie’s pictures. She’s in half of them, smiling with the twats. For a bunch of paranoid assholes, they got very friendly with the blonde. I do notice several less than pleased women in the background of the pictures.

  “When is Patrick getting out?” I ask no one in particular.

  “Soso made a call to someone in Tennessee who made a call to someone in Louisville. It looks like Patrick will be out after the New Year.”

  “Can we wait that long to hit Milkweed?”

  “Right now, they’re quiet. They might be waiting for him to be released to try something.”

  “Georgia is due in December.”

  Bubba only nods. I think he wants to brainstorm with his woman. Probably Butch too. That’s how Bubba works. He doesn’t work shit out with me. I’m his VP because no one else fit.

  A week ago, this fact bothered me a lot more. Now with Georgia, I feel my life changing. The old grudges don’t seem as important when I have a woman to protect and a baby on the way.

  THE DOORMAT

  At six months pregnant, feeling sexy isn’t easy. However, thanks to Phoebe, I have access to so many cute maternity outfits. Her quirky tastes make me seem cool, but there’s no hiding my bump grew over the last week. Eating and sleeping well likely helped.

  I eventually settle on a pink blouse that emphasizes the little extra something I have in the chest region. With the help of Jack’s nieces and a curling iron, my hair has waves. They even do my makeup.

  Maddy promises she’ll take good care of Rebel. My son hugs me and tells me to have fun. Earlier, Scarlet and Phoebe left to get ready to play at the bar.

  Feeling as sexy as possible, I meet Jack out by his truck. He, of course, looks delicious. My entire body lights up at the sight of him in black jeans, a green T-shirt, and his Reapers vest.

  He opens the passenger door of his truck and helps me inside. Then his lips find mine for a long, lingering kiss.

  “Our first real date,” he murmurs once he climbs into the truck and starts the engine. “It’s long overdue.”

  Not knowing what to expect with a place called Atlanta Disco, I find a long, featureless, brick building with a flashing orange and yellow sign on top. The parking lot is almost full when we arrive.

  Inside, I feel like I’ve walked into that Toby Keith song, “I Love This Bar.” Crowding one half of the bar top is a group of cowboys complete with their big hats. On the other side are the “girls next door dressed up like movie stars.” I spot rednecks at one table, wearing camo and American flag do-rags. Another table is filled with middle-aged women drinking wine.

  And near the back booths stand men wearing the same vests as Jack. First, I recognize Bubba and Butch. The man with longer hair is Jack’s youngest uncle, Jace. I assume the giant, muscled one is Roid Ron. The younger guy, who winks at me and gets threatened by Jack, must be Dickie.

  “Come sit with me,” Soso says, gesturing to the booth where she hangs out with Lily. Nearby, Bailey sits with her husband, Nick, her youngest son, Buzz, and daughter-in-law, Panni. The last one waves enthusiastically at me. I smile and wave back. I barely know her or any of these people, but they seem happy to see me.

  “Sissy joined Ink & Goats last year,” Lily says proudly. “She loves music, but can’t play an instrument. It was Phoebe’s idea to have her learn the tambourine.”

  Soso grins at Lily’s excitement. I’ve learned enough over the last week to realize the group structure. Bailey and Sawyer are sisters and best friends who fight nonstop. The blondes are even arguing right now.

  Lily, Dash, and Sissy share a past so dense that it’s often difficult to follow along with their inside jokes.

  Newer to the Johansson sphere, Panni and Soso seem the most excited to embrace me. I think they remember how it felt to be the newcomer.

  Jack keeps an eye on me as I order an alcohol-free cocktail. The drink even comes with a pink umbrella. It’s such a small thing, but I never got to do “grownup” stuff like this except for the night I met Jack.

  Tonight, I’m on a date with the sexiest man alive, surrounded by friends, and spinning my little umbrella. And I don’t even have to worry about anyone from Milkweed showing up since that would end up very badly for them.

  I’m freer than I’ve ever been, and it’s amazing.

  Jack joins me, and Bubba scoots in next to Soso. I might not know the words to the Ink & Goats’ songs, but it’s unbelievably cool to see my new friends on stage. The only one I haven’t met is the dark-haired guy singing with them. I do know he’s Phoebe’s twin brother, Leo.

  Though more reserved around the other men, Jack doesn’t hide his interest in me. He already went after Dickie for flirting. Now his arm wraps possessively around my shoulders while we listen to the band play. I lean into his embrace, staking my claim too.

  After their first set, the band leaves the stage, and I meet Leo. Only then do I realize that Katya, Talia, and a few other girls from the Rossiya Motel are in the bar. I can’t help throwing my arms around Katya and hugging her tightly. Then I do the same to Talia.

  “I never thanked you enough for saving Rebel and me that day.”

  The women are startled by my emotion and quickly get emotional too. I feel a little guilty for interrupting the fun. But without their help, I don’t know how that day would have turned out. I’ll be forever in their debts.

  THE HOTHEAD

  Georgia’s drinks are non-alcoholic, but there must
be something in them because she gets feisty as fuck after the first one. Her fingers on my thigh during the first set leaves my dick rock hard.

  Now I’m walking around with a raging erection while Georgia goofs around with her girlfriends. I leave her long enough to get another beer, but Bubba blocks my ability to return.

  I frown at him, and he smiles back. Dick.

  “Sheriff Hamm called earlier to say the Milkweed shits want a meeting,” Bubba says in the quietest voice possible in a loud bar.

  “No.”

  “They want to work out visitation with Rebel and his grandma.”

  “No fucking way. If they get their hands on that boy, they’ll never give him back. Then they’ll have a human shield.”

  “Calm the fuck down,” Bubba says, patting my shoulder. “We should still meet with them. The more we know, the less we don’t know, get it?”

  I glance at Georgia to make sure she doesn’t see my anger. She and Soso are dancing with Sissy and Lily. The foursome won’t win any awards, but my smiling lady looks sexier than ever.

  “Don’t worry about Georgia,” Bubba says. “I warned Soso you’d get pissed, so she’s distracting your woman.”

  “Well, aren’t you Mister Fucking Smarty Fucking Pants?”

  Bubba smiles widely. “It fills me with great pride when you compliment me like that.”

  I roll my eyes. “Fine, what’s your game plan then, genius?”

  “We meet with them,” he says, leaning closer until he’s nearly whispering in my ear. “We’ll see who they bring and how they play the meeting. I mean, we’re talking about hitting what, six, even eight people. That’s a lot of blood to spill. It wouldn’t hurt to get a feel for them and see how they respond to us. Plus, we aren’t currently ready to hit them, now are we? I’d rather wait until closer to the holidays when their guards are down. Bad weather will hide a lot of our movement in their town too.”

  “You’ve been thinking a lot about this,” I mutter, extinguishing my temper when I realize he gives a shit.