Authors: Joanna Wylde
“Are you sure?” he asked, alert now, his
voice utterly devoid of emotion. “No, I hear you. Is someone with Cookie?”
That didn’t sound good. It really didn’t
sound good. I sat up in bed, pulling the covers across my breasts. Horse
ignored me, utterly focused on the phone call. I felt a twinge in my ass but I
ignored it. Last night felt like some surreal dream—a dream I wasn’t ready to
remember just yet.
“Thanks,” Horse said finally. He dropped
the phone down, then rolled away from me and stood up, reaching for his pants.
Tension roiled off him, along with waves of anger so powerful it scared me.
Last night’s lover had left the building.
“What happened?” I asked, keeping my voice
low and calm. He didn’t look at me as he spoke.
“Bagger’s dead,” he said, reaching down for
his long-sleeved thermal shirt. Then he grabbed his cut. “Died two days ago,
took them awhile to locate his body for confirmation. Cookie’s at the hospital,
she collapsed when they told her last night. I’ve got to go. You can call the
other girls but don’t leave the armory. We’re still on watch against the Jacks.
You got it?”
He glanced at me, waiting for me to
acknowledge his orders. I nodded and he left without another word.
Chapter
Nineteen
I’ve never felt so
helpless in my life.
I didn’t even know Bagger, aside from
saying hi to him on Skype a couple of times. I didn’t have a right to mourn
him, not like everyone else. But I mourned for Cookie and Silvie, his little
girl who cried for her daddy at night and begged to perform for him in front of
their webcam with her little stuffed dog. I wanted to do something to help,
even if it was something stupid like cleaning her house or cooking. Instead I
sat alone in my room and watched a stunning sunrise while everyone I’d come to
know and love in Coeur d’Alene suffered.
Around nine Horse called me and told me I
should go downstairs, find some food. He warned me that the place was a mess
and told me that if any of the women gave me shit I could to throw their asses
out. Um, right. I needed to stay in the building, other than that I’d be okay.
I walked down the stairs cautiously, expecting to see wreckage and evidence of
some kind of giant orgy. Instead I found subdued men drinking coffee and a
bunch of tired, hungover-looking women. A few of them huddled in a corner,
crying. One of them was Serena, the woman I’d seen last night sitting next to
Horse. She approached me cautiously, like she expected me to go crazy on her. I
didn’t have the energy and it just didn’t seem very important anymore.
“You hungry?” she asked, taking my
shoulders and looking at me, clearly checking me over for I don’t know
what…injury from Horse’s giant penis? She would know, I thought, feeling
morose.
“Not really, but I should probably eat,” I
answered.
“I know what you mean. C’mon, we got donuts
over here.” She led me over to a table on the far side of the room, littered
with donuts and a couple boxes of coffee to-go from Starbucks.
“Starbucks? Seriously?” I asked. She shook
her head and grimaced.
“I knew the boys would need something,” she
said, shrugging. “It’s what was easy. Eat something, hon. It’s gonna be a long
day.”
“Do you know Cookie?” I asked. I’d tried to
call Em a while ago, but she hadn’t answered and I didn’t want to bother
anyone. The last thing they needed was to be worrying about me. But I really
wanted to know how she was holding up. I couldn’t begin to imagine what she was
going through. Serena shrugged.
“Yeah, although not well,” she said. “I’m
not really the girl they parade in public, you know?”
“Does that bother you?” I asked. Then I bit
my tongue, realizing how insensitive that was. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have
asked that. Please forgive me.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she replied, giving
me a small, weak smile. “I don’t want to be one of their old ladies, and
despite what you might think, I’ve had more than one opportunity. I like my
freedom. I’ve got my place and it’s worked for me. I’m moving on to something
new now anyway. But this… This throws me. They always seem so strong, you don’t
think of anything being able to kill them, you know?”
I nodded, knowing exactly what she meant.
When I’d first met him, I’d half wondered if Horse was a Terminator.
“Did you know Bagger?” I asked. She nodded,
pouring herself a cup of coffee.
“Yeah,” she said without elaborating. “He
was crazy about Cookie, you know. He didn’t cheat on her. Horse isn’t a cheater
either. Last night, that wasn’t anything, what you saw with us. We were just
talking. I hope you believe that.”
I shrugged, not sure what to believe.
Cookie’s life was in ruins and I supposed that at some point I should check my
email to see what fresh games Jeff was playing. Things kept hitting so hard and
fast I couldn’t keep up.
“Hey,” she said, shaking my shoulder a
little. “Wake up, look at me. This is important.”
“What?” I asked, trying to make myself
focus.
“He loves you,” she said, holding my gaze
with hers. “I know all about what happened, everyone does. They spread it
around, wanted to be sure people know they didn’t give your brother a pass.
You’re collateral for him, and all that shit. But the reason you’re really here
is that Horse loves you. Do you get that?”
“I honestly don’t know what to think about
any of this,” I replied. “All I know is that Cookie is in hell and I can’t do
anything for her.”
“You can help me get this shithole whipped
into shape,” Serena replied sharply. “There’s going to be a funeral, and
they’ll have tons of people coming in from out of town. Three states worth of
bikers will be here to show their respects. We have to get ready. It’s
something you can do for Cookie, she knows Bagger would want a hell of a wake.
This is where it’ll happen. We have to get it cleaned up and ready, you up for
that?”
I looked around. She was right. The place
needed cleaning in a big way. And we’d need food too. Lots of it. I knew there
was a kitchen somewhere on the ground floor, but I wasn’t sure how good it was.
Could it handle that many people?
“That’s better,” she said, smiling at me.
“Nice to have you join us this morning. I knew there was a reason Horse shelled
out so much for you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked,
caught off guard.
She tilted her head at me, eyes
speculative.
“Horse paid a shitload of money for you,
girl,” she said softly. “Didn’t you know that? Maybe not, that’s not part of
the public story…”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,”
I said, eyeing her suspiciously. I wasn’t sure I could handle another shock, I
really wasn’t. But I needed to know what she meant by that comment.
“Horse paid the club $50,000 out of his own
pocket to give your brother another chance,” she said bluntly. “They were going
to kill him outright, but Horse wanted you for his old lady and he knew how
much your brother means to you. He paid the club to give your brother another
chance. How do you not know this?”
I shook my head, feeling dizzy.
Horse paid the club to save my brother.
Horse was a murderer who killed women and children. Horse offered to send me to
college, knew how to fight hand to hand and taught me to shoot. Multiple
personalities? Two certainly weren’t enough… But I’m a practical girl. I’d
spent a good chunk of the past day feeling dazed and confused, but now I had a
job.
“Okay,” I said, pushing all that away. I’d
think about it later, like so many other things piling up. “So how do we want
to do this?”
“Let’s get the girls together in the game
room,” she said. “We’ll figure out who’s just party leftovers and who’s willing
to pitch in and help.”
Eventually we rounded up about twenty women
in various states of undress, a few of the guys watching in interest without
interfering. Serena stood up and introduced me as Horse’s old lady, which made
all of them sit up a little straighter. Then she looked over toward me,
obviously waiting for me to speak. That was a surprise, I thought she’d take
the lead but apparently not. Clearly, as the only old lady in the room, I was
supposed to be in charge.
“Okay, so it sounds like most of you heard
the news,” I said. “Bagger is dead, he died in Afghanistan. I didn’t know
Bagger, but I know his wife and daughter. Obviously this is a big deal, and if
you want to do something to help, I need to get the clubhouse clean and ready
for company. I don’t know how much time you have or how much work you can do,
but anything is a help. Who can stay and clean?”
A few raised their hands, but most of them
looked away, unwilling to meet my eyes. One, definitely not a girl but a woman,
walked over to me.
“I’ll be in charge of getting the guest
rooms and studios ready,” she said. She was a tall brunette who looked to be in
her early thirties, with tight jeans and a lot of swagger. Unlike the others,
she looked sexy but not slutty, which was impressive considering how many were
sporting giant raccoon hangover eyes. “A lot of them are full right now, but
we’ll need to find room for more people to camp out. Some’ll get hotel rooms,
but a lot will stay here. What’s your name? Aside from Horse’s old lady?”
She offered me a genuine, if sad, smile,
and I decided I liked her. This sweet butt situation was more complicated than
I’d realized, because obviously they weren’t all brainless sluts.
“I’m Marie. What’s yours?”
“I’m Claire,” she replied, holding out her
hand for me to shake. Her grip was firm and reassuring. “I’ve been a friend of
the club since high school but I’m not with any of the guys. Just came by last
night to see some friends from out of town, you know how that is.”
I shrugged, not quite sure what she meant
and not too worried about it. Her obvious respect surprised me, although I was
starting to realize it shouldn’t have. There seemed to be a hierarchy of Reaper
women, with old ladies at the top, but right now I didn’t care what their
status was if they’d help me get the armory ready for Bagger’s funeral.
“I’m glad to meet you,” she said, genuine
kindness in her eyes, tempered with a fatigue that had nothing to do with being
hung over. “We’ll get this done, don’t worry. Don’t take shit from anyone,
okay? You’re an old lady, and not one of these girls has a right to tell you a
damn thing. Not even me,” she added ruefully. “But if you don’t mind, I think
some asses could use a little kicking and that’s one of my favorite things to
do. You mind?”
I glanced at Serena.
“Works for me,” she said. “She takes the
upstairs, I’ll take the main floor and you can coordinate food. Sound like a
plan?”
“Sounds great,” I said, feeling grateful.
Claire turned the group and clapped her
hands for attention.
“You heard Marie,” she said loudly. “She’s
nice and polite, but I’m not. Get off your asses and get working, or get the
hell out.”
Nobody moved for a minute, and she put her
hands on her hips and glared around the room.
“I’m serious, bitches!” she yelled, and I
believed her. “If you’re a friend of the club, now’s the time to show it.
Otherwise get the fuck out and don’t come back. You won’t be welcome. Got me?”
About four girls got up and left quickly,
but the rest seemed to break out of their stupor, sorting themselves out
quickly enough and breaking into teams. Within minutes half had followed Claire
upstairs and most of the others followed Serena downstairs. I found myself
alone with a woman I recognized with horror—she’d been the one on the second
floor, screwing an entire room full of men.
“Hey, I’m Candace,” she said quietly. “I’m
a caterer. Can I help you get the food situation figured out? I know my way
around the kitchen and have a pretty good idea what to expect.”
She smiled at me like a perfectly normal
person, rather than a woman who’d had sex with five men in a row the night
before. How could she even walk? I shook my head, and she gave me a quizzical
look. Of course, she didn’t realize I’d seen her.
“Yeah, that sounds good,” I said, and we
started downstairs. She led me through the lounge to the far end of the
building, where double doors opened to reveal a dining room with a serving bar
separating it from a kitchen. Not a full-on, modern industrial one, more like
the kind you’d find in a church. Several big fridges, big dishwasher, that kind
of thing. Empty platters and bags of chips littered the counters, debris from
the night before, I assumed.
“I’ve done a lot of parties for them,” she
said, flipping on lights and going to the fridges, opening them and checking
out the contents. “I give them a deal, they take good care of me. A few years
ago my ex decided to use me as a punching bag. I knew one of the girls who
likes to party here and she passed the word along to Ruger. He and a couple
others offered to take care of the problem for me in exchange for some help in
the armory kitchen and things grew from there.”
“Horse beat up my ex,” I said, feeling a
sudden sense of sisterhood with her.
“It’s a relief when it stops, isn’t it?”
she replied, with a sad little smile. She started grabbing food wrappers and
tossing them in a big plastic garbage can. “He’s a real good guy. You’re lucky
to have him.”
I nodded, not sure I wanted to go there.
Everyone seemed to think he was so great—did they know the real man? Did I? I
felt my phone vibrate and I pulled it out to find a text from Em.
Cookie is
home again. They gave her some drugs to help her sleep. Maggs asked if you can
stay on top of things at the armory, some of us will be over in a couple hours
to help. ((Hugs))
Already on it
, I sent back, relieved I could tell her something positive, no
matter how small. Candace and I finished cleaning up and sat down to plan food
for the day. Then I sent her to the grocery store with my debit card, which
still had about five hundred dollars on it and another hundred in cash. I was
torn about that—if I had to get away, I’d need the money. But I wanted to help,
and the realization that Horse had already spent fifty grand on me still
floated around in the back of my head, waiting to be processed.
It seemed like the least I could do.
Candace had been amazing. She’d gone from
gangbang hoochie to kitchen goddess apparently without need for transition.
Around noon she came back with a ton of food, so much I couldn’t imagine we’d
go through it all yet it disappeared almost entirely by the end of the day. The
party girls worked hard to clean the armory before melting away when the old
ladies started showing up—a club dynamic I still couldn’t wrap my head around.
Surprisingly, Serena and Candace stayed. They kept to themselves back in the
kitchen, but every time I turned around they were quietly serving people,
bringing them drinks or food, helping the few remaining guests find a place to
sleep.