Reaper's Till Death (Devils Rejects MC 3)

We don’t ride far before Reaper comes to a stop at a mint green cottage style house complete with a white picket fence.

A badass Dodge Charger and a motorcycle is parked in the driveway. Before I can ask if this is Sara’s house she rushes out the side door by the carport.

“Harley! I can’t believe you’re really here,” she squeals and practically knocks me off the back of the motorcycle as Reaper gets off. “I thought Danny was lying when he called to tell me you were coming to visit. God, I am so happy to see you.” Her arms go around me with a gentle squeeze.

“Me too.”

She is beaming ear to ear and looks so happy. Married life must be being good to her. “Well, come on in. Danny and CT are eating supper. I’ll fix you both a plate.”

I don’t get a chance to respond. Sara is grabbing me by the hand and leading me inside.

Danny is seated at the table and CT is next to him in his highchair.

“Can I get you a beer, Reaper?”

“Nah. Just a water since I’m driving such precious cargo.” He smiles but it doesn’t reach his dark eyes that are trained on me.

I guess babysitting me has put a damper on his day. It’s no picnic for me either.

“Where’s your bag?” Sara questions as she puts two more plates on the table.

“Didn’t bring one.”

“Well, whatever’s mine is yours...” She bites her bottom lip and looks at her husband. “Well not everything.”

I can’t help but laugh as he pinches her butt and her cheeks flush.

“We don’t have the guest room done up yet, but the couch is comfy enough.”

Danny clears his throat as Reaper and I take our seats. “Harley will be staying at Reaper’s place.”

My cousin gives him a cross look. “Don’t be silly. She’s family.”

“Family who has a stalker. I’m not having her attract trouble to our home.”

Sara starts dishing out helpings of chicken parmesan onto our plates angrily. I can tell there are a lot of words she’d like to say to him, but she is reining it in. Knowing her place like a good old lady should. I sigh internally. I have always hated the whole macho rule that a woman can’t challenge her man in front of a brother of the club or else he looks weak. I think it simply means he’s fucking human if he gets bitched at by his woman.

“Is this MaryAnn’s recipe?” Reaper speaks up in an obvious attempt to break the tension and it works.

“Who’s MaryAnn?”

“Oh, you’ll love her. She runs stuff at the clubhouse. She’s been giving me cooking lessons.”

CT starts banging his spoon on the tray and babbling. “Ba-ba. Ba-ba. Bab-baaaa!” He shouts with drool dribbling down his chin.

The kid is adorable, but I know I don’t want one of my own anytime soon.

Sara and I haven’t talked much since she got married. Even though I am pissed about being sent here against my will it’s still nice to see her.

Danny gets up without being prompted by his wife and gets CT a bottle.

Sara watches the two of them together dreamily. The sight is sickly sweet. Marriage is good for her. Both of them. You won’t find me getting hitched anytime soon.

Fuck that. Screw love, marriage, babies, and happily ever afters. Give me a dildo and a jar of my family’s moonshine. I don’t need a man to be happy.

I catch Reaper watching their overly sweet displays of affection partaking in my disgust as we share a look.

I study his tattoos. Brightly colored feathers that adorn the hair of a big breasted woman cover the top of his left arm. She’s beautiful and so life like. I wonder if he simply liked the design or if she reminds him of someone.