Reaper's Stand
Page 7

“So,” I said, walking into the room, feeling unspeakably awkward. An open box of pizza sat on the coffee table, along with two open beers and a couple of empties.
Hayes stood, his thick thighs and heavy arms even sexier than I remembered, which seemed rather unfair. His companion gave me a friendly smile. She was young, cute, and apparently nice, too. Girls like that are the worst. I had a feeling I looked disgusting, and knowing my luck, I probably didn’t smell too good right now, either.
Oh, and old. I felt old.
“I’m almost done with your bathroom,” I said, realizing I should apologize for what I’d said earlier. I just didn’t know how. “But not quite. I’ll need to come back.”
“I can be here tomorrow afternoon.”
“I can’t. But I can come on Wednesday.”
“Wednesday isn’t good for me. Tomorrow.”
“No, I can come on Wednesday,” I repeated. “I have to take Jess over to the hospital in Spokane tomorrow. She has an appointment with a specialist and it’s not like you can just reschedule those.”
He frowned.
“What does she need to see a specialist for?”
“That’s her business,” I replied, straightening myself. “I appreciate your help the other night, but that’s not a license to invade our privacy.”
The girl’s eyes went wide.
“I need to go get something out of my car,” she said quickly. I started forward, deciding retreat was the better part of valor, but Hayes stood in my way. The man was like a brick wall. A really frustrating brick wall. I tried to slip past him, but he wrapped one big hand around my upper arm, stopping me. Shoot. I’d forgotten to be afraid of him.
This was a mistake, because he could turn on scary just like that.
“What’s up with your girl?” he asked again, his voice soft. “I know she’s a wild kid, but this sounds like more.”
I stared at his broad chest, refusing to meet his eyes. He wore a torn T-shirt that had seen better days, and it didn’t do much to hide the latent strength of his muscles or just how easily he could hold me here indefinitely. Not only that, he smelled good. So unfair.
“I really don’t want to talk about it.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Do you need help, London?” he asked. “You work for us now. If there’s a problem, you should tell me. Even if there isn’t, I should know if you’ve got something big going on. Everything that touches the club is my business.”
I snorted. Now he was interested in learning more about our lives?
“It’s nothing important,” I replied, forcing my voice to stay smooth, because it wasn’t nothing and never would be. “We just need to get her checked out. But I can come back on Wednesday right after lunch. Would that work for you?”
He studied me a moment longer, then slowly rubbed his hands up and down my arms before letting me go. This was fortunate, because I’m pretty sure I got goose bumps and the last thing I needed was him figuring out how I reacted to his touch.
“I won’t be here on Wednesday,” he said. “But I can program in a code for you to use. I’ll text it to you in the morning, sound good?”
“Fantastic,” I said, feeling almost desperate to get away. “You’re busy, I don’t want to keep you. Night!”
I darted out the door before he could respond, then stopped on the porch. Shit. As much as I wanted to get the hell away, I needed to apologize. What I’d said about his room and Heather had been so wrong on so many levels … I turned to face Reese, meeting his eyes directly.
“That comment about your bedroom? That was wrong. I have no right to say anything about your home or your room—or your wife. I’m sorry. It was thoughtless and hurtful.”
Reese didn’t respond right away, just studied my face. Then he nodded his head slowly. Good enough for me, so I turned and moved quickly toward my van. The woman I’d seen inside leaned against her car, smoking and watching me with openly concerned eyes.
“You okay?”
“Fine,” I said. “No worries.”
She shrugged, throwing down the butt and twisting it under her foot. She walked back to the house as I loaded my supplies. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her go to Reese. He guided her into the house, shutting the door behind them. I started to climb into my vehicle, then glanced over at the butt on the dirt.
Leave it.
I couldn’t. Being a neat freak is a curse sometimes, but darned if I could just drive away and leave that nasty little thing lying there. I gave the house a quick glance to make sure I was all clear before stomping over to pick it up. Clutching it carefully between two fingers, I carried it around the side of the house to the trash can.
It took two seconds to toss it in, and then another for a quick squirt of hand sanitizer from the little tube in my pocket.
Better.
So what if I couldn’t control Jessica and I felt awkward and uncomfortable around Reese? At least that particular cigarrette butt wouldn’t pollute anything today. I decided to count it as a victory.
“She has a gift, you know.”
I glanced over at Maggs, the new volunteer coordinator at the community center.
“Jess?”
Maggs nodded, her messy blonde hair styled exactly the way I’d tried to get mine that unfortunate time that I’d cut it all off. She looked sort of like Meg Ryan at her cutest. I’d resembled a horrific clown who’d been attacked with scissors. I glanced across the room at my little cousin, watching her crawl around on the floor with a little girl.
“I haven’t seen her before,” I said, nodding toward the child.
“She’s new, only been coming for a couple weeks now,” Maggs said. “Family just moved to the area. She’s got a shunt—congenital hydrocephalus. Jessica has taken a special interest in her.”
My breath caught. Of course she had …
“Jess is hell on wheels, but she’s a good volunteer,” I said, which was the truth. No matter how crazy everything else got, Jess never missed a shift at the center. “She loves working with the kids.”
“Has she considered going into early-childhood education or a related field?”
I laughed.
“I don’t think she’s considered anything beyond her next party.”
Maggs cocked her head.
“That’s unfortunate,” she said. “Because she’d be really good at it.”
“I know,” I replied, smiling. “Hey, Jess! You ready?”
Jess looked up at me and smiled, hopping up and offering the kid her hand for a high five. The little girl jumped up to smack her, obviously thrilled to get such attention from a big girl.
“See ya on Wednesday,” Jess told her, then loped across the game room floor toward me. “Sorry, I lost track of the time. Hey, they’re having a party for the kids and their families on Wednesday night. I signed you up to bring chicken and dumplings. They want it here by six.”
“Thanks for asking first,” I replied, my tone dry. She grinned at me.
“Would you have said no?”
I shrugged and she giggled, sounding young and carefree.
“Ha! I know you too well. You always come through.”
That was the truth …
“So, I thought you were going to be done early today? Seemed like you weren’t quite ready to leave after all.”
“Yeah, I planned to get out early, but then we got caught up in a game,” she said, shrugging. “I do want to go home, though. Mellie’s coming over. We’re going to a movie tonight out in Hayden—she’s got her mom’s car. You said you’d pay for a movie with her this week, remember?”
“I remember,” I said, figuring Mellie deserved something nice after what she’d been through last weekend. Jess had blown up at her for calling me, although they’d made up again by Sunday night. That’s the thing with Jess. For better or for worse, she doesn’t hold on to things. Every once in a while that worked out so the good guys won.
“Do you have plans for dinner?” Jess asked casually as we started across the parking lot. Too casually. What was she up to now?
“Not really. I was thinking we could have soup and sandwiches.”
“How about pizza?” she asked, and my mouth watered. I hadn’t gotten the smell of the pizza at Reese’s house out of my mind since I’d left. So I’d been intimidated by him … but I’d also been hungry.
“Not sure that’s in the budget,” I said slowly, mentally calculating where we were in the month. Between the mortgage and the medical bills, there wasn’t much extra.
“Who said you’re paying?” Jess asked, pulling out a wadded green bill from her pocket. She stretched it out and waved it triumphantly in my face.
A fifty.
My eyes widened.
“Where did that come from?” I asked, stunned. Dear God, was she picking pockets now?
“It was a thank-you gift,” she said, grinning broadly. “You saw that little girl I was playing with? Well, her mom talked to me last week and she really likes how I’m working with Ivy. She’s behind the other kids developmentally, and it’s hard for her. I know how that feels, so I’ve been spending extra time with her. Today her mom gave me this and thanked me. She asked if I do babysitting, too!”
“Jessie, that’s fantastic!” I said, pulling her in for an impulsive hug. She tugged away from me immediately, scowling, but I could see the pleasure in her eyes. This was a huge win for her.
Maybe an opportunity, too.
“You know, Ms. Dwyer said you have a gift with the kids,” I told her. She radiated pride even as she kicked a rock, pretending not to care. “She thinks you should go into early-childhood education. You’re really good with them, especially the special-needs kids.”
“I like them, that’s all,” Jess said. “But I don’t want to do more school. I already told you that—I don’t like school. It’s too hard for me.”
I sobered.
“I know it’s hard for you. But when you take the time, you do a really good job. You graduated with a 3.1, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
She grunted.
“That’s just because I took all the easy classes. I’m a retard and we both know it.”
I stopped dead and grabbed her, turning her toward me. Catching her gaze, I studied her face. What I saw there killed me. She believed it. No matter how many times I told her otherwise, she still couldn’t forget what those little bitches in middle school had starting calling her. Not even changing schools had helped.
“I never want to hear you say that word again,” I told her, the words slow and forceful. “A learning disability doesn’t make you stupid—it just means you have to work harder. You have a perfectly normal IQ. I’m incredibly proud of you, Jess, and when I suggested you go to more school it’s only because I know you can handle it.”
She rolled her eyes, and I fought the urge to shake her.
“Jess, listen to me. Ms. Dwyer said you have a gift—and you know what? You do have a gift. Would you call the kids you work with here retards?”
Jess’s eyes narrowed and her face flushed.
“No. I would never say that and you know it.”
“Then why the hell would you say it about yourself? You’ll either go to more school or you won’t, but don’t for one minute tell me that it’s because you aren’t smart enough. You’re smart, Jess.”
She stilled, and I practically saw the wheels turning in her head.
“You said ‘hell.’ ”
“Yes,” I replied, feeling suddenly sheepish. “I guess I did.”
A slow smile crept across her face. Then she leaned forward, catching me up tight in a hug.
“Thank you, Loni,” she said. “I know I drive you crazy, but I love you. Thank you for always being on my side.”
I hugged her back, tears filling my eyes. Why couldn’t Jess be like this all the time? This was the girl I’d given up so much for. Imperfect and frustrating, but worth all the sacrifices and then some.
“You gonna buy me pizza or what?” I asked finally, pulling away.
“First one to the car gets to pick the restaurant,” she said, then took off across the parking lot, long legs pumping. I started after her, but I never had a shot. The girl was six inches taller than me with the stride to prove it.
Good lord, I loved that kid, and every time I started to forget why, she’d do something beautiful to remind me.
CHAPTER FOUR
REESE
Wednesday was the shits.
One of the girls working at The Line OD’d right after lunch, right on the stage. They called the ambulance and Gage started CPR, but she didn’t make it. We’d all known Pepper was using, but not how much, and apparently she left behind a son, too. I’d banged her the weekend before, but she never said a word about having a kid. Not that I’d given her the chance to talk much, or would’ve listened if she had tried.
I hated myself a little bit for that.
Now social services would step in and I hoped to hell she had family somewhere. We’d probably do a little fund-raiser for the boy, which would change exactly nothing because he didn’t need money—he needed a mom.
Fucking sucked.
Then we got word out of La Grande that they’d intercepted a major cartel shipment, which was farther north than we’d realized they’d started running product. This also fucking sucked, because it meant things were heating up faster than we’d anticipated. I guess technically we’d been at war with them for six months, but it wasn’t an active war. More of a wait-and-see while making plans for payback.