Joanna Wylde - Reaper’s Property

“Exactly,” said Darcy. “None of us are alone. And this isn’t all the girls either. This is just the posse I managed to round up on short notice. Between the Reapers and the Silver Bastards there are about fifteen old ladies, and we stick together.”

“What about those girls at the party last night?”

Em made a gagging sound.

“They’re definitely not family,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Bunch of sluts and losers.”

“Some of them are nice girls,” Cookie protested. “I met Bagger at a club party.”

“That was a real party,” said Em. “Not one of those drunken fuckfests my dad likes to pretend I don’t know about.”

“Whoever they are, they aren’t old ladies,” said Dancer firmly. “They aren’t like us, and you aren’t like them,” she added, catching my eye.

“And that’s why we’re here,” said Cookie. “We decided you probably need a break, so it’s ladies’ night. We’re going to take you out and show you just how much fun your new sisters can be.”

I sat up straight, shaking my head and leaning forward to set down my untouched beer. They might not understand my situation, but I certainly did. Going out to party was not on the agenda. Horse left me with orders and I intended to follow them.

“I don’t think Horse would like that,” I said. “He told me to make dinner, I think he was planning something…”

I trailed off as Dancer walked over to my purse, pulled out my phone and scrolled through the numbers, hitting one and putting it on speaker. It rang and then I heard Horse’s voice.

“Babe, what’s up?”

“This is your sister,” Dancer announced, flashing an evil grin. “We’re kidnapping Marie and taking her out tonight. You’ll just have to jack off if you get horny. She’ll be busy.”

There was a pause from the phone.

“Give the phone to Marie,” he said. “I need to talk to her.”

I lunged for it, but Dancer tossed it to Cookie, who jumped up on the couch to hold it out of my reach. “Too bad! I’ve got a cooler full of jello shots and a flask, so we’re gonna have fun fun fun! You might as well camp out at the armory tonight, stud.”

The girls all laughed, but I felt a little sick. I couldn’t afford to piss Horse off. They might think I was part of the “family” now, but I knew better.

“Put Marie on the fucking phone,” Horse said again, and the tone of his voice was not amused one little bit.

“This is Dancer again,” said his sister, grabbing the phone from Cookie and taking it off speaker. “You might as well give up, Horse. We’re going to take her, she needs a break and you’re a dick if you won’t let her have one. I heard what you did last night. Poor girl probably needs therapy after that. I promise I’ll take good care of her and drive sober. Find something to do that doesn’t involve shooting anyone, okay?”

Then she hung up the phone.

I stared at her, stunned.

“You can do that?” I asked.

“What?”

“Hang up on Horse.”

Dancer burst out laughing.

“Oh, he’ll be pissed. He and Bam’ll probably bitch to each other all night. But we’re just going out for a little fun and he’ll look like a pussy-whipped baby if he makes too big a deal out of it. And our boys may be pussy-whipped, but they sure as fuck don’t want to look like they are. It’s all good.”

I wasn’t too sure about that.

“Time for shots,” said Cookie, hopping off the couch and walking toward the kitchen. The others pulled me to my feet and dragged me down the hallway, my phone left behind. Then the music started and things got a little crazy.

“Seriously, you would not believe how big it is,” I slurred, leaning forward and holding out my hands for scale.

“That’s disgusting,” yelled Dancer, slapping at me, and I burst into giggles, almost falling out of my chair. “That’s my brother you’re talking about. Stop it before I puke!”

I held my hands farther apart, opening my mouth wide and flicking my tongue at her like a snake. We all exploded into fresh gales and I nearly peed my pants. Potty break time.

“I’m gonna pee. Anyone?”

Em stood up and we stumbled toward the bathroom together. Seriously, I loved each and every one of those girls. I couldn’t imagine why I’d been worried about Horse. Horse kicked ass. In fact, when I saw Horse tonight I was going to rip off all his clothes and give him the best blowjob he’d ever had in his life. And Jeff was going to be fine too, because despite what everyone thought, he really wasn’t totally stupid. I knew that for a fact, just like I knew that I really, really needed just one more shot to make the evening perfect.

Old ladies kicked ass.

A couple of guys met us on the way to the bathroom, one of them holding out a hand to steady me as I lurched into him.

“Can we buy you girls a drink?” he asked, smiling at me. I smiled back. He was kind of cute in a college-freshman way. Horse would eat him for breakfast, I mused.

“Not gonna happen,” came a low voice behind us. I turned to see Painter, one of the Reapers’ prospects, standing behind us looking mean. With his honed muscles, sneer and white-blond hair all spiked up, he was pretty hot. Yum. Oops, too much booze… I couldn’t check out Painter, that was just weird. “You need to step the fuck away from them right now.”

Painter might not have had his top rocker but he was still a scary biker guy. He’d showed up at Horse’s house about twenty minutes after Dancer hung up on Horse and had been following us around ever since. The guys backed away instantly, mumbling apologies. Em turned and smacked Painter’s chest. He grunted and narrowed his eyes at her, but he didn’t say anything. I watched the exchange with wide eyes. Em grabbed my arm and pulled me away toward the bathroom. She slammed the door open, banging it against the wall as she dragged me in.

“I cannot believe him,” she muttered, walking over to the stall, which was just an open toilet separated from the rest of the room with a wooden partition. “How am I supposed to meet anyone like this? I am never going to find a real boyfriend. Never.”

I swayed, trying to follow her words.

“I don’t get it.”

“Imagine being the oldest daughter of the president of the Reapers MC,” she said. “How many guys do you think asked me out in high school? I had to go to my prom with a prospect. A prospect who wasn’t allowed to dance with me.”

Oh. Now I got it.

“That sucks,” I said, feeling very sage. “But it’s probably better than having some guy take advantage of you.”

My own prom was an excellent example—Gary had been like an octopus on Viagra and I’d been stupid enough to find it flattering.

“I want a guy to take advantage of me!” Em snapped, pulling up her jeans. “You have no idea how many guys’ve ditched me once they learned about my dad. I tried to get away. I even went to college in Seattle. Picnic had his friends over there checking on me. For about three months it was great, and then the rumors started that they’d kill anyone who touched me. You’d think I have two heads or something. I’m a virgin, despite my very best efforts to give it away, and at this rate I’ll be dead before I find a penis to put in my vagina.”

I took her place, pulling down my own jeans and peeing. She made a good point. I decided to tell her that.

“You make a good point,” I said, standing back up. I swayed again, and she laughed, catching me.

“Wow, I think you ate too much jello.”

She helped me over to the sink. I washed my hands and we both took a few minutes to check out our hair and makeup. I thought we looked pretty good—no wonder those guys wanted to buy us drinks. I’d buy us drinks if I was a guy.

“So who would your dad let you date?”

“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m not sure anyone is good enough. He’d like me to be with someone in the club though. That way I’ll never move away from him.”

“Aw, that’s kind of sweet,” I said. “I mean, at least your dad cares about you. I hardly even remember mine.”

She shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she said. “I guess I wouldn’t trade him. Mom was pretty great too. I miss her.”

“What happened to her?” I asked, and then bit my lip. The booze had apparently dissolved the filter between my brain and my mouth.

“Breast cancer,” she said, clearly not wanting to talk about it. “Long time ago. Let’s get shots.”

“Sounds good,” I replied, following her out the door. Painter stood outside, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, looking bored. I grabbed Em’s arm and pulled her into me.

“Why does he have to be here?” I stage-whispered. “Are they afraid I’ll run away or something?”

“Oh it’s not personal. They send someone with us every time we go out,” she said, shrugging. “Usually a prospect, but every once in a while Ruger tags along. He’s fun. They don’t want anyone bothering us. That way we can party and they know we’re safe. It’s no big deal, at least not for you because you already have a man. For me, it sucks.”

“So all old ladies get watched all the time?” I asked. “Isn’t that creepy?”

She laughed and shrugged.

“Mostly just when we go out at night,” she said. “It’s a security thing. There are a lot of clubs and not all of them are friends to the Reapers. This is their way of making sure nobody hassles us. Knowing we have a sober ride home. It’s great, unless you’re looking to lose your virginity.”

I giggled and she glared at me, which made me giggle more as we headed back out onto the main floor. Then I stopped, because a tall man wearing Reaper leathers suddenly blocked my path. I looked up, trying to focus. Max.