Sydney's Battle (Reapers Rejects MC: Second Generation Book 1) Read online

  Fist ended up passing away in the most fitting of ways. He earned his road name by how quickly he’d bring out his fists to show his seriousness, yet he had the gentlest heart. He died protecting Bull’s ol’ lady, Alexa. After Fist died, my aunt Ashley and uncle Blackjack took me in for a while. Zane, my dad, shit, I’m sure he didn’t know what the fuck to do. I wouldn’t have. I’m eighteen now and while I have a lot of life left to learn, I couldn’t even imagine what they went through.

  So, Zane isn’t my biological father, but our families have intense history, and I was fortunate enough to be adopted by him and his wife, Octavia. I have two younger brothers, Neo and Knox. To complicate things further, I have a bonus dad, like Fist and Zane weren’t bonus dads. Anyways, my bonus dad’s name is Inc. The story is complicated, but the rundown is Octavia has two men in her life, my dad and Inc. They all know about each other, and things are oddly functional. I don’t think I’d ever be able to do what she does, but more power to her.

  “You’re getting so good, Syd. Shit. I can’t believe my eyes,” Dad says, walking right up next to me. My gun is on the platform, and I’ve already successfully disarmed the weapon. While he isn’t a stickler about safety, I sure as hell am. I know the power they hold, and I don’t want to ever be in a position where an accident could happen because of me.

  “Yeah. I’ve been learning from the best, though.” I offer him a soft smile, genuinely meaning what I’m saying. When we first started doing this, my hands would shake the entire time. I was terrified of guns. It took me a while to figure it out, but I think it’s because of the power I held in my hands.

  “Aw, shit. There you go makin’ this ol’ man blush.” His cheeks turn cherry red and I smirk. Dad runs a hand through his hair and continues. “I hate to bring this up, but have you given college any more thought?”

  Alright, he doesn’t hate bringing anything up. He only says it to be kind. It’s exactly what he says when we all go into town and has to complain to the waitress about not getting our order correct. He’s pressuring me to tell him something he wants to hear, and I’m not here for it. I don’t ever see myself as a traditional college student, and as much as I’ve told him, he still doesn’t want to accept it.

  “Dad, we’ve talked about this.” I keep my reply short and simple, but it’s not what he wants to hear.

  “Syd, you can go to college. I can afford it, you know.” He raises both his brows, almost like he thinks money is the only reason I don’t want to go.

  Looking him sternly in the eyes, I keep myself focused. I need him to understand me, once and for all. “Dad, it’s not about the money. I’ve . . . I’ve never fit into those boxes. Never once have I seen me on a campus, in college at all, really.” I’m as honest as I can be with him, hoping it’s enough for him to see reason and accept my viewpoint.

  He takes a couple of steps away and sits on an old tree stump. Crossing his arms, he nods his head a couple of times and I’m damn sure I’m about to hear some sort of speech. “Is it what you want? Like, are you sure you don’t want this?”

  Without the slightest hesitation, I nod. “Yeah.”

  “Well, alright then. That’s that. I’m here to support you, kid, so if you don’t wanna go, I’m not gonna force you into it.”

  Relief swarms over my body and I take in a deep breath. I was so afraid he’d make me go to school, that he’d force me to try something I really have no intention of doing. I cross the distance between us and head right up to him, wasting no time wrapping my arms around his torso. He stands up and holds me close against him, rubbing my back and sets his chin on the top of my head.

  “Thank you for understanding. I know I’m not like other kids. Some don’t have parents like you, Octavia, and Inc.” I’m speaking straight from the heart and as he holds onto me tighter, I know he can sense my genuineness.

  “And some don’t have a life like you. Shit, Syd, you’ve been through the wringer a few times now. If you ask me, the only thing you deserve is to be happy, so if goin’ to college isn’t somethin’ that’ll make you happy, then don’t do it. Do what’s important to you, what’s in the pit of that heart,” he whispers against my head and holds me. It feels so nice, so calming like it’s something I’ve needed for a long time. This may sound morbid, but it’s only the truth. I’ve witnessed so much loss, so much death that I’m going to show the people in my life how much I value and cherish them. Dad and I release the grip on each other and he looks down at me with an amused smirk dragged across his face. “So, what’s here?” he points in the center of my chest.

  “Singing.” I waste no time answering him.

  “Singing, huh?” he smirks and pride glimmers in his eyes.

  “Yep. I’ve always loved the music industry, have since I was a little girl, and you know my mom had put me in those classes. Your dad too.” They both paid for me to take classes. I know how to play the piano, guitar, bass, and clarinet. Though, I doubt I’ll be using the clarinet again.

  “Oh shit, I remember now. You took some band classes at school, yeah?”

  I roll my eyes. He’s never paid a lick of attention to my class schedule. “Yeah. All my electives were in music, any one of them that could’ve been anyway.”

  Dad nods his head and runs his hand over his beard. It’s short and well kempt, but now the deep brown has bits of gray mixed in. The years are catching up with him as time goes on. Then again, so has about forty pounds too, but he’s all muscle. I don’t think there’s an ounce of fat on his body. Yet sometimes, I wonder if it’s more than age playing a factor in how stressed he looks. I know he’s the Prez, but I never thought things would be this nerve-wracking. I don’t know all of what he deals with every day. While I’m glad I don’t, I feel for him. He must deal with a lot on a day-to-day basis.

  A couple of clouds roll in overhead, and he glances down at me for a split second. “We’d better get a move on. O told me there would be some rain comin’ in this afternoon.” O is what he calls Octavia as a nickname.

  “Okay, sounds good.” I go over to the makeshift platform he created when we first started doing this and pack everything into my case, then put it in my duffel bag. He doesn’t have anything to pack up, considering he keeps his gun attached to his hip 24/7. Part of me thinks he keeps it under his pillow at night.

  Once I’m all packed up, we head over to the four-wheeler, and he gets on. I hop on behind him and secure my duffel bag with a couple of clips, then wrap an arm around him. Before I know it, we’re on our way back toward the club.

  Dad’s pulling into the garage and the second he shuts the four-wheeler off, Turmoil is charging out, looking right at him. “Prez, we got a problem.”

  Dad throws his leg over the four-wheeler and gets off while I stay on and observe the situation. I’ll head back to the house in a couple of minutes, but I’m being a bit nosy. I want to know what’s going on. Dad gets closer to Turmoil and they’re on the other side of the garage in no time. I can’t hear jack shit, but oh well. I bet he knew I was eavesdropping in the first place.

  “Syd, take the four-wheeler out to the barn and let Doom know it’s all-hands-on-deck. I need him out here, as soon as possible.” For a second, I think I can’t be hearing him right. He’s insinuating we leave the barn unattended, and that’s never happened.

  “Who’s going to watch the prisoner?” I question, wondering if he forgot about Gears still being around.

  Dad inhales sharply through his nostrils. “I’m sorry, kiddo, but I need you to. I need Doom. So, go to the barn and stay there until I get someone to relieve you. Take your bag, make sure you keep your gun on you and it’s loaded.”

  I nod over and over again as I process what he’s told me. He comes over to where I am on the four-wheeler and grabs my shoulders. “Syd, you got this. You’re a Reaper’s Reject. You were made for this shit. Go on. I need you to get Doom here now.”

  I nod and turn the key to the four-wheeler, reverse out of the garage and head on my me
rry way.

  Chapter Two

  Gears

  The wind whistles through the open windows of the barn and I revel in the breeze. It’s been so hot today and it’s not like there’s a fan in here. No, I’m tied to a post in the center of their barn. There are stalls on both sides of me, but to my right, there’s a stairwell. I don’t know what’s upstairs, but over the last few weeks, I’ve noticed some of the club’s members heading up there.

  Sweat trickles down my forehead and I attempt to rub the back of my neck against the old post. It’s been ages since I’ve showered and the only water I’ve been afforded is usually as a punishment. No one here has shown me any kindness, but why would they? I was the VP for the Corrupt Kings MC, the secondhand man to the Prez, who destroyed his alliance and opened up fire on them. I’m sure they think I’m loyal to Boomer. It seems crazy to me, but if I were in their shoes, I’d be on the cautious side too. You can never be too sure of anything in this life. I learned that when Boomer’s body was towering over mine with his gun pointed right at me. A man I called my brother would’ve ended my life without question, and if it wasn’t for the Reapers Rejects opening fire again, I’d be dead.

  Ironic, considering I’m their prisoner and yet they were the ones who saved my life.

  The barn door creaks as the old hinges are pushed and I don’t make a move. It’s been a long time since I’ve let anyone in this club cause me any stress. There’s no point in reacting anymore, not in the slightest. It won’t do me any good.

  From the position of the sun, it’ll be setting in the next couple of hours. It’s typical someone from the club comes to relieve whoever’s on guard duty. Tonight, it’s Doom. I’ve become very familiar with the personalities of my guards. Most aren’t bad, but Doom is a royal fuckin’ ass. The first moment I get my hands free, I’m going to pummel his ass into the ground. It’s what he deserves.

  A shadow comes forward and as it comes into view, I spot someone I haven’t seen before. Sure, I’ve seen women, but the ones who come in here have on cuts and prospect patches. This one doesn’t. She’s wearing mustard-colored shorts and a top set while a duffle bag hangs on her shoulder. I think the girls call them rompers these days? At least, I think it’s what they’re called. I only ever paid attention to half the fashion crap that came out of my daughter, Tara’s, mouth.

  Gold necklaces hang from around her neck and she has a thick belt around her midsection with silver buttons. The belt is the same leather color as her boots, and she heads straight up to Doom. Once he catches sight of her, he instantly stiffens. “He needs you down at the club. Something’s going on, said it’s all-hands-on-deck.”

  “Fuck, you’re shittin’ me, right?”

  “If I was, I wouldn’t be here right now. The Prez requested you get your ass down there, so you’d best go. You wouldn’t want to piss him off, right?” The woman’s voice goes from 0 to 60 in less than a second. She’s obviously not keen on being questioned.

  Doom gives her a curt nod and walks past her, but with each step, I can sense his unease. Hell, maybe she’ll be my golden ticket out of here. I might be able to sweet-talk her into getting what I want. She’s not wearin’ a cut. She sure as fuck doesn’t look like an ol’ lady. If I’m lucky, she’s a clubwhore and isn’t too smart.

  Then again, where would I go? My daughter’s out there, and if Boomer knows I’m alive, he’ll hunt me down like I’m an endangered species with a high price on my head.

  The woman heads over to the metal chair where Doom was sitting a few moments ago and pops a squat. She’s got a septum piercing and a nose ring, and I spot a tattoo on her left arm from the way her sleeve is slightly hanging off the shoulder. Her chocolate hair falls midway down her back, and she cranes her neck to the side, allowing me to see she has bits of honey tones going throughout. She must be one of the ladies who like to go to the salon. Her bangs fall just above her eyes, over her tawny-beige skin. Immediately, I can tell she’s a woman who spends a good amount of time outside. Sure, she’s got the tan for it, but her boots have dirt on ‘em.

  For a while, neither of us say a thing. She simply sits in the metal chair, and I remain quiet, not sure if now is the time to speak up or not. The wind continues to blow for a few minutes and picks up quite a bit. “Might want to shut those windows, darlin’. It looks like a storm is coming.”

  She scoffs but rises from the chair. Interesting, she must know I’m right. “Thunderstorms are rolling in this evening, but we need it. It’s been too dry lately and our neighbors are having trouble with their crops.”

  “That’s a shame. It’s their livelihood. Good thing rain has come, huh?” I comment while she walks over to the windows across from me and then shuts them.

  She doesn’t say anything to me for a few moments. She just keeps walking around the barn and shuts the windows. “It’ll get humid in here for a bit because of the rain, but at least this way, a whole bunch of water won’t come into the barn.”

  When she finally takes a seat back on the metal chair, I speak up. “You don’t seem like the type who should be in here with me.” I stifle out a laugh and she furrows her brows.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  I look her up and down. It’s obvious with her knee-high boots, fancy lookin’ outfit, jewelry and even the slight curl to her hair. “You’re a pretty woman, sweetheart. Now, why the hell are you in this barn?”

  She scoffs and the desire to know her name courses through me. Now I’ve known a lot of women in my life, and it’s not like I’ve known every woman’s name, but this one is a wildcard. I can already tell.

  “The Prez told me to stay here, so I’m here.” she rolls her eyes and crosses her arms.

  “Shit, a woman who likes takin’ orders, I see.” Okay, I’m fuckin’ with her, but the way her peach-tinted lips tighten only eggs me on. It gives me the go-ahead to wanna keep talkin’, so I do. “Men like me, in this life, we love a good woman who knows how to fall in line. You and the Prez got somethin’ goin’ on? I know he’s into those open relationships.”

  “God, no!” She looks like she’s about to vomit and I don’t hold back my laugh.

  “What, you play for the other team?” I insinuate she’s a lesbian, and suddenly she grows serious.

  She brushes her lips together and stares at me coldly. “The only person I play for is myself.”

  I draw my brows together, not understanding what she means. “You Yoda or somethin’?”

  For the first time since she’s walked into this barn, she cracks a smile. Though, it doesn’t stay on her face for long. She shakes her head and looks right at me. “Of all people, you should understand, right? In this type of lifestyle, people are always leaving or dying. What’s the point in being with other people when they’re going to be gone at some point or another? There isn’t one. It’s pointless.” She shrugs and my heart hurts a little for her. She’s young, maybe twenty or so. She shouldn’t be thinkin’ like this at all.

  I offer her a soft smile and it hits me. She’s so young and has already had so much pain in her life. It’s obvious. “I’m Gears, by the way.”

  An amused grin pulls at her lips. “I know. I’m Sydney.”

  Sydney. What a beautiful name for who I can sense is a sweet woman.

  Chapter Three

  Sydney

  I’ve been speaking to him when I know better. I shouldn’t have said a damn thing and now here I am. He’s cracked a few jokes even though I’ve tried to stay serious, and my duffel bag is directly on the ground beside me. I doubt I’d need to pull my gun out on this man. Nothing he’s said has made me feel like he’s dangerous in the slightest.

  His skin is grimy from the built-up dirt and sweat, and I’m sure it’s been a very long time since he’s had a decent shower. He’s in ratty clothes and his facial hair is obviously unkempt. It’s been about five hours since I’ve been here, and my ass fell asleep about an hour ago. I’ve walked around the barn, paced, even started organizing some
old tools I found in one of the stalls. I was doing great until I saw a spider and decided maybe I should stick to the chair, so that’s where I am now. Though, I’m still keeping an eye on my surroundings. The last thing I want is for some creepy crawler to get on me.

  From a distance, there’s rumbling of a motor and I know someone’s on the four-wheeler, heading our way. It gets louder as it approaches and my heart beats intensely in my chest. After a few moments the four-wheeler is turned off and the doors into the barn are opened. My dad comes walking in, glancing from me to Gears. “Everything good here, kiddo?”

  “Yeah, Dad,” I reply, and Gears instantly looks over at me. He heard what I said and I’m sure he might be wondering if I’m going to tell my dad what he said to me earlier. If I was a bratty MC princess, I would, but I’m not.

  “Of course, she’s your kid,” Gears scoffs and my dad’s eyes focus on Gears.

  “The fuck did you just say?” Dad turns his head and glares at Gears. His gaze is so intense I think fire might shoot out of them.

  Gears licks his lips and smirks up at my dad. “What, you can’t hear me in your old age?” Gears questions him, cocking a brow.

  “Stop your shit,” Dad threatens Gears, clenching his jaw while he keeps his glare fixated on him.

  “It’s all good, man. Your lil’ girl and I had quite the conversation. She’s a real sweetie, but I’m sure you know that.” Gears smiles, obviously enjoying fucking with him and I inhale deeply. Dad isn’t the type of guy who handles this kinda shit well.

  Before I know it, he’s walked right up to Gears and is puffing out his chest. “Shut your fuckin’ mouth before I make sure you never speak again.”

  “Dad,” I speak up, not liking how his attitude is changing. Sure, Gears is egging him on, but there’s no need for this. It’s so stupid.