Page 45 of Reaper
Both women are friendly and have treated me with nothing but kindness, but I feel so out of place around them. They seem to have their shit together where I’m just trying to survive to the next day.
“How are things at the clubhouse?” Oya asks. “We heard you had a little run in with one of the girls.”
She’s Saint’s woman or old lady as he calls her. According to Logan she’s a professor and more than fourteen years older than Saint. The age gap is shocking at first, but she and Saint seem to be extremely happy together so who am I to judge.
She’s very tall for a woman, with locs that trail down her back. She’s in a long maxi skirt with intricate swirl patterns and a black fitted t-shirt. She has long necklaces around her neck and gold bangles on her arms that jingle every time she moves. She reminds me of an artsy bohemian.
“Even with the run-in, it’s better than being with the Russian’s.” I take a sip of tea to help calm my nerves. “I’m not going to complain.”
“Some of the girls get a little bitchy especially when they believe the guys are theirs,” Alana says, then rolls her eyes. “But Logan will make sure it’s taken care of.”
I nod even though I’m not sure what that means. But I don’t want another run-in with anyone including the women at the clubhouse.
“You guys come here often?” I ask, changing the subject.
We’re at a local hangout spot called Embers. Since the guys had club business, Oya, and Alana invited me out for brunch. It’s not necessarily a place I imagine these two women to frequent. Embers isn’t a dive bar, but it’s not a luxury dining spot either.
The patio where we’re seated is decorated beautifully with vibrant, multicolored umbrellas, large potted plants overflowing with flowers of all colors, and twinkling fairy lights that are shining even though it’s sunny today. However, they both seem like women who would frequent fancier establishments like five-star restaurants or country clubs even though they seem at ease here. But they are also the old ladies of Sinners, so I guess Embers wouldn’t be too far out of their comfort zone.
It’s the first time I’ve been out of the clubhouse since the Pakhan’s men broke into Logan’s penthouse looking for me. Of course, we git permission from King, and we came with no less than five Sinners for protection. But it’s the price I have to pay for a little freedom.
“All the time,” Oya says with a wide smile. “Saint bought it a few years ago. Technically this is where we had our first date. It’s where the guys bring us if we just want to hang out in a laid-back atmosphere.”
“So, you’re really doing fine at the clubhouse?” Alana asks.
“You don’t have to hide anything from us,” Oya follows. “We know what you’re going through.”
“I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t think you do.”
Oya and Alana exchange a glance before turning their attention back to me, their expressions unreadable. “What has Logan told you about us?” Alana asks.
“Nothing really. Just that both of you are King and Saint’s world.”
That causes both women’s faces to brighten with huge, radiant smiles. I can imagine, while they may be King and Saint’s world, they love them just as much.
“The reason I ended up at the Sinners clubhouse is because I happened to be involved with a made-man from the mafia and passed along some information to Grimm, the prez of the Sinners’ Las Vegas chapter.” Alana takes a sip of tea, then sits the glass on the table. “He asked Dylan to protect me. During that time, I ended up falling in love with him, but we still had to deal with the mafia, my ex-boyfriend, and one of the club girls before we were finally happy.”
Damn, just by looking at her you never would have guessed she would be involved with someone from the mafia. But being connected to a one percenter motorcycle club isn’t much different is it? Both move outside the law despite the legal parts of their organizations.
“Okay, I wasn’t expecting that.”
They both laugh. “My life has always been unpredictable, especially having poor taste in men. However, since Dylan, I’m happier than I’ve ever been,” Alana says.
“And what’s your story, Oya? If you don’t mind telling me. How did you become involved with Saint?”
“Well as you know, I’m a professor, but during my divorce I decided I wanted to get a tattoo to celebrate, and I ended up in his shop. Of course, I tried to resist whatever was between us because of the age gap, but Gavin is persistent. Anyway, I had some trouble with my ex-husband who was a powerful politician, so the Sinners came to my rescue in that situation. So, you see, we aren’t that much different from you.”
“If you ever need someone to talk to don’t hesitate to reach out to us,” Alana says. “We’re not saying we know exactly what you’re going through, but you don’t have to go through it alone.”
“I appreciate that.”
I do appreciate them trying to let me know I’m not alone but as of right now, I think I’m fine keeping my feelings close to my chest. If it gets to be too much, I’ll for sure vent to them since they offered.
A familiar laugh mixes among the other ones and my entire body stiffens as I squeeze the glass in my hand.
“Paris, are you alright?” Oya asks.
My eyes shoot to hers and concern etches her face. I close my eyes and take a deep breath in then blow it out. I jump to my feet startling them, as I angrily look around. “Where the fuck is he?”
