Page 21 of Reaper
I have a two-story farm-style house that has white siding with black trim and a wrap-around porch. Inside, the main floor is a mostly open concept. In the living room, there are floor to ceiling windows that face the forest behind us, and they let in a ton of natural light. Large leather couches are opposite a large flat-screen TV that’s over the fireplace and the bookshelves that line the TV and fireplace on either side hold my guilty pleasure.
Books.
I love to read.
Historical. Mythology. Wartime. Hell, I even have a few romance books. I read it all. However, my favorite is mythology and my large collection on the ancient Greek, Roman, Egyptian,and Asian cultures, to name a few, can attest to my addiction. They take up three-quarters of my bookcases.
The ceilings in here and the kitchen are vaulted with exposed beams and trusses. The kitchen also has tons of windows. There are shaker-style cabinets along two walls as well as in the base of the island. While I don’t cook often, since Mama Astrid loves to cook for all of us at the clubhouse, I do like to cook when the mood strikes. There is a laundry room, an office, a couple of spare rooms, and a full and a half-bath on this floor. Those rooms as well as the three bedrooms and two bathrooms upstairs all feature high ceilings, which is definitely needed since I’m six-foot-three. Downstairs, I left the basement unfinished as I wasn’t a hundred percent sure what to do with the space. There’s a full bathroom down there, and for now, the rest of the space is occupied by my weights and treadmill. I love to run, but Wisconsin winters can be brutal, so a treadmill is a must for me.
I unlock the front door, step inside, and input my code for my security before relocking the door. All the while Igor, my French bulldog, jumps up on my leg and is barking his head off, excited that I’m home. Reaching down, I scritch him behind the ears and then kick off my boots.
Igor follows me to the kitchen. I grab a beer before wandering out to my back deck and sitting down. Igor raises up on his hind legs, resting his front ones against my thighs, as he begs with his eyes for me to pick him up. He’s a major cuddler—when he’s not growling at anyone who isn’t in the club or a partner of a member, that is. Or stealing my socks and hiding them around the house. Leaning down, I scoop him up and then rest my feet on a footrest. He shifts around a bit, getting comfortable, and finally settles down.
I scritch behind his ears as I take a pull of my drink, and his big tongue lolls out of his mouth as he gives me a happy, doggy smile. Sighing, I shake my head as I take another drink.
“I am so fucked, Igor,” I tell him and then start telling him everything that happened tonight.
When I’m done, I stare up at the stars and make a promise to myself to always do whatever I can to protect Lark. Even if she ends up wanting nothing more than friendship. My chest tightens painfully at that thought, and Igor makes a sound in his throat as he looks up at me, cocking his head slightly. Almost like he’s checking in with me and making sure I’m okay.
Damn dog has always been able to read me and my emotions ever since I found him bleeding in a back alleyway behind a club, covered in cuts and his back leg bent weirdly. I’d scooped him right up and ordered one of our Prospects that was with me, to drive me to the vet clinic. Thank fuck I’d had a Prospect with a cage with me since I was picking up some furniture at a store, but even if I’d only had my bike, I still would have figured something out for the little guy.
The vet, Vivian Flynn, fixed him up, put a cast on his back leg, and to my surprise, she told me that some of his wounds were from being shot at with a BB gun. I had wanted to hunt down whoever had done this to him when she’d said that. I hate seeing any animal abused or neglected.
Fortunately and unfortunately, Igor wasn’t chipped, which meant I had no idea who had done this to him. Python even checked the security footage, with permission from the club owner, but the person who dumped Igor by the dumpster hid his features behind a hooded sweatshirt, sunglasses, and a baseball cap. From his large frame, we assumed it was a guy, but there weren’t any identifying features that could help us find the asshole. In the meantime, Vivian kept him with her while she tried to find his owners. After a couple of weeks of no one stepping forward and Igor finally well enough to leave, he came home with me.
My thoughts once again drift back to Lark as I go back to petting Igor.
“So fucked,” I repeat.
I’ll do whatever it takes to convince her to be my Old Lady. Even though I’d told myself earlier I’d be fine if we were just friends, I’m pretty sure it’d end up killing me if she doesn’t want to be my woman.
Chapter 9
Reaper
FourMonthsLater~September 6th, 2022
I lean back in my chair as I stare at the numbers on the screen of my computer.
Something isn’t adding up right, but I just can’t seem to find out where I’m going wrong. Lifting my beer to my lips, I take a pull and as I set down my beer, my phone starts blaring.
“What the fu—” I start to curse as I stare down at my phone in my hand. A moment later, my eyes widen in alarm and my chest tightens.
I stand so quickly my chair bangs against the wall behind me as I stalk to my office door. Throwing it open, I’m not surprised to see Python’s fist raised and about to knock.
“I know,” I grit out and then after he steps back so I can pass, I step out into the main room and give the signal for Nathan, our newest Prospect, to cut the music. As soon as there’s silence, I whistle for everyone’s attention.
“Saddle up, but I need a skeleton crew to stay here. A fire’s been reported at Grams and Gramps’ store.”
Chairs scrape against the floor as my brothers head for the main door. Thank fuck I asked Steel Security to install better security at their store a few years ago, which includes alerts for instances like if a fire starts. Steel Security is a company run by my brother, Smoke, from the Forest Creek chapter about four hours southwest from here. Since we’re so close in location, we frequently help each other out when needed.
I follow after them but then pause when I see Punisher on the phone, his forehead creased as he frowns.
“Be safe,” I hear him tell the other person on the line and my stomach sinks as he ends the call. Did Erik get called out tonight?
Punisher has two younger brothers, Dominick who we always call Dom, and Erik. Erik’s a firefighter in town and, in my opinion, one of the best out of all the men and women in the crews but I still worry about him when he goes out on a call. They used to have a sister, Frida, who was Erik’s twin, but she was killed two years ago by her abusive boyfriend. Over the years, we all had looked after Frida like she was our own sister, especially since their dad is Odin, another member of the club. Her death was felt heavily throughout the club, and everyone took pleasure in making that fucking asshole suffer for what he’d done to her.
“Reap,” Punisher calls out as he walks over to me. “Erik’s on the truck heading to the store and said he’d keep us posted. Someone who lived nearby that was walking their dog called it in, but they were already on their way thanks to the system. So far, it looks like the fire is still pretty small.”
