Page 77 of Reaper Released

“Nope!” I say.

“You sure?” Bran asks.

“Theme park!” I reply.

“Fuck!” Dane spits.

“We should,” Dane says.

“Maybe it’s time.” Bran shrugs.

“Fine!” I cross my arms over my shiny new leather cut, and we all just sit there staring at each other. Everyone around the table is casting glances at each other, not having a clue what we are arguing about.

“You're the oldest!” Bran points out!

“By two fucking months, arsehole!”

“Still, you know the rules!”

“Dickhead!” I huff at him.

“Okay, so it’s like this, we never fell out, we always had each other’s back, and we never fought between ourselves properly. We might have enjoyed a bit of rough and tumble, but never an actual proper fight!”

“I beg to fucking differ!” Cade says. “I’ve lost count of how many teeth you’ve knocked out of each other’s faces and skinned knees. There’s even been a broken bone or two, and don’t get me started on black eyes!” Shaking his head, he looks at our faces.

“Come on then, spill. You fuckers are up to something!”

Dane sighs. “So remember when Bas hit me and blacked my eye? I must have been four or so. These guys would have been what, five or six?”

Marie speaks up. “That was the first time one of you had really got injured from the other!”

Dane asks. “Do you remember what happened?”

“Erm, we sent Bas to bed with no supper and took you out for ice cream, and you got a new toy, an Action Man if I remember rightly?”

“Correct,” Bran says, smiling at his mum.

“The next week, I fell over and skinned my knee and was just told, jump up, Squirt, you’re okay.”

Steven looks thoughtful for a minute. “Yeah, because that was an accident. That was different!”

“Exactly!” Dane laughs.

“I don’t get it,” says Bernie

“Okay, listen closely, as I’m not gonna repeat it, and maybe tomorrow, I will deny ever saying anything. We figured that if one of us was injured by another, we got ice cream and a toy. The one who did it got no supper; however, if it was an accident, we got fuck all!”

I can see all my pas frowning, and the boys are now leaning in, listening closely. Scar smirks. We told her about it years ago when she became one of us.

“So, when we injured ourselves, which was a regular occurrence, another one of us would take the blame. They would get to pick the toy when they got sent to bed. The one who wasn’t involved would sneak them a snack while the injured one got ice cream. It was a win-win situation!”

“What about the black eyes? Lost teeth? All that stuff?” JJ questions.

“We were kids that climbed trees and rode dirt bikes. We fell over, tripped on stuff, played and got caught by a stray accidental elbow.” I shrug.

Cade cut in. “So what about all the teeth?”

Dane replies. “Mainly, they just fell out when they were ready.”

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