Joanna Wylde - Reaper’s Property

“I don’t understand,” she said, giving her brother a pleading look.

“He’s supposed to be working for us,” Picnic said. “Pretty good with that little laptop of his, sure you get that. But instead of working he’s been playing at the casino with our fucking money. Now he has the balls to tell me that he’s lost the money and can’t pay us back.”

He punctuated the last four words with jabs of his pistol’s thick, round barrel into the back of Jeff’s neck. Marie looked stunned, blinking rapidly. Horse could almost see the thoughts racing through her pretty little head.

“You got fifty grand on you?” he asked casually.

“He stole fifty thousand dollars?”

“Yup,” Horse said. “And if it doesn’t get paid back right now, his options are limited.”

“I thought you were friends,” she whispered, eyes darting between Horse, Jensen and Picnic.

“You’re a sweet kid,” Picnic replied. “But you don’t get who we are. There’s the club and everyone else, and this stupid fucker is not part of the club. You fuck with us, we will fuck you back. Harder. Always.”

Jeff’s mouth trembled, tears welling up in his eyes. Horse’d been surprised the guy didn’t start bawling earlier, to be honest. Then Jensen pissed his pants.

“Shit,” muttered Ruger. “I fucking hate it when they piss themselves.”

He looked down at the man and shook his head.

“You don’t see your sister pissing herself, do you? What a little bitch,” he said, disgusted.

“Are you going to kill us?” Marie asked, starting to tremble. She’d lost the color in her face. Horse looked at Jensen, disgusted. What kind of asshole put his sister through something like this—not just this, here, but living in a dump like this, working all day changing diapers for minimum wage?

“I mean, would you really kill people you shared pictures of your daughters with?” Marie asked, studying Picnic’s face. “One of them is about my age, isn’t she? Can’t we work something out? Maybe we can make payments or something.”

Horse snorted and shook his head. Time to move things along.

“You don’t get it, sweetie, this isn’t just about money. We could give a shit about the money. This is about respect and stealing from the club. We let this pissant fuck get away with it, they’ll all start doing it. We don’t let stuff like this slide. Ever. He pays with blood.”

She closed her eyes for second, and Horse saw the moisture hovering on her lashes. Shit, he hated women crying. No, he hated bitches crying, and Marie was just another bitch. He needed to remember that.

“Jeff, why?” she whispered, and the heartbreak and despair in her voice made Painter flinch. Horse grew cold, dark rage building. How dare the little prick look at her like that, pleading with his eyes, and what did he do to deserve her loyalty?

“I wasn’t planning to lose it,” he replied, his voice full of despair. “I thought I could win it back, make it up somehow. Or that maybe I could hide it in the wire transfers…”

“Shut the fuck up,” Picnic said, smacking the side of Jensen’s head with his free hand. “You don’t talk club business. Even when you’re about to die.”

“There’s another way,” Horse said, deciding to lay things out for her. Might as well get it over with and make damned sure she understood her place. He’d offered her better, but she hadn’t wanted it. Now she’d take what she got, and she better not complain about it. “Paying in blood can mean different things.”

“He doesn’t need to die for that to happen,” she said quickly. “Maybe you can burn down our trailer!”

She smiled at him like she’d won the cake at a cakewalk.

“Oh, we’re gonna do that no matter what,” Horse drawled. “But that’s not blood. I can think of something that is though.”

“What?” Jeff asked, his voice full of desperate hope. “I’ll do anything, I swear. If you give me a chance I’ll crack so many accounts for you, you won’t believe what we can accomplish. I’ll stop smoking, that’ll clear my head, I’ll do a better job…”

His voice trailed off as Horse laughed, and the mohawk guy shook his head and grinned at Picnic.

“You believe this asshole?” he asked. “Seriously, douche, you aren’t making a very good case for yourself, telling us just how much you been slacking.”

Jeff whimpered, and Horse saw Marie jerk forward, as if she wanted to go to him but thought better of it. That pissed him off even more. He wanted that kind of caring from her and she wasted it on her brother instead. But he was getting too worked up too fast, he needed to keep his cool. He took a second to slow down, stretching his neck from side to side, cracking his knuckles. That cleared his head.

“Let’s get a couple of things clear,” he said. “We’re not going to hurt you, Marie.”

“You aren’t?” she asked, and the surprise in her eyes stabbed right through him. She thought he’d hurt her, like her asshat ex, Gary. Might as well call him a monster. He forced himself back on track.

“Nope,” he said. “You didn’t do anything wrong, we aren’t pissed at you. This isn’t about you. You’ll keep your mouth shut if you want to survive, and you’re smart enough to know that. That’s not why you’re here.”

“Why am I here?”

“So you can see just how seriously fucked your brother is,” he replied. “Because we’re going to kill him if he doesn’t find a way to pay us back. I think he might be able to pull it off with the proper motivation.”

“I will,” Jeff babbled. “I’ll pay you back, thank you so much—”

“No, you’ll pay us back twice as much, fuckwad,” Picnic said, kicking him viciously in the side with his heavy leather boot. Jeff pitched to the floor, keening in pain. “That’s if we let you live, which is entirely up to your sister.”

Now was the moment. Horse wondered if he’d have to argue with her or just throw her in the truck, hands tied behind her back.

“I’ll do it,” she said.

Well shit. That was a little too easy. Didn’t she care about her safety at all? Nope, all she cared about was Jeff-hole. Horse snorted, disgusted, letting his eyes roam across her body. Fuck, she was hot. Even like this, straight from work, scared out of her mind. His Marie was small and curvy, with hair framing her face and tits heaving as she tried to control her fear. He’d bet a thousand dollars she had no idea the top four buttons of her shirt had come undone, showing a hell of a lot of cleavage and the outline of her black bra.

His dick approved. It wanted to squeeze between those boobs and shoot out a pretty pearl necklace for her to wear. Horse took a deep breath, this wasn’t over yet. He could fuck her tits later. Might be the first thing on his list.

“Don’t you want to ask what it is first?” he asked.

“Um, sure,” she said. “What do I have to do?”

“It seems Horse here wants a house mouse,” Picnic said. She looked blank. Picnic sighed and looked at Horse. “She’s clueless, you sure about this? Seems like work to me.”

Horse glared at him, wondering if he could hit him without fucking up his plan. Probably not. He turned back to Marie, forcing himself to stay calm, collected.

“This is your option,” he said, voice clipped. “You want to keep dumbass alive, pack a bag and climb on my bike when we leave. You do what I tell you, when I tell you, no questions and no bitching.”

“Why?” she asked, so cute and confused and blank it pissed him off even more. Didn’t she have any survival skills at all?

“So you can cook dessert for me,” he snapped.

Her mouth dropped open. Seriously, she didn’t get what was happening here? He shook his head, frustrated.

“Why the hell do you think?” he said, the words grating and harsh. “So I can fuck you.”

“You’re threatening to kill my brother just so you can sleep with me?” Marie asked, her face stricken.

Ruger walked over to Horse, draping his arm around his shoulders.

“She’s cute, but not real smart. Why don’t you let me take her for a ride, get her trained up for you.”

Ruger pumped his hips lewdly toward Marie. Horse turned and punched him in the stomach, the prick. He’d had too much of this shit, time to move along. He wanted Marie alone, naked, riding his cock. Enough with the pleasantries.

Grabbing her arm, he dragged her out of the trailer and into the orchard, pushing her back against one of the trees. She was breathing hard, making her boobs rise and fall, taunting him. He was pissed at Jeff, pissed at Ruger and pissed at Marie for being so damned perfect that she’d pushed him to this after he should have cut her loose. He’d offered her everything and she’d thrown it back in his face, yet she was perfectly willing to pimp herself out for that fuckface of a brother.

“I don’t want to sleep with you,” he told her grimly. “I want to fuck you. Sleeping, cuddling, all that other shit is for girlfriends and old ladies, and you’ve made it pretty fucking clear you aren’t interested in any of that,” he said, thinking about the leathers he’d gotten for her. What a joke. “I’m threatening your brother because he stole from the club, which had nothing to do with you. You steal from the club, you pay in blood. You’re his blood. We take you, he pays. Fucking you is just a bonus.”

“So you’re taking me to show that people shouldn’t steal from the club?” she asked, and he thought he saw a glint of understanding in her eyes. Finally.

“It’s a fuckin’ miracle, she gets it,” he muttered to no one, throwing up his hands. “Your brother’s lucky, because I wanna stick my dick in you more than I wanna kill him. Otherwise this wouldn’t be worth the trouble. If Jeff-hole gets his shit together and pays back the club I might let you go—when I’m done with you. If he doesn’t, then I’ll find some other use for you. Got it?”