Sydney's Battle (Reapers Rejects MC: Second Generation Book 1) Page 3

  “Why should I? She’s polite, beautiful and has a really nice a—” Gears can’t even finish his sentence. My dad’s already collided his fist in an uppercut and a crackling sound rings out. Immediately I’m rushing over and blood rushes down over his lips. It’s flowing like a waterfall, down his chin, on his neck, and Dad starts to go again. I grab onto him by the crook of his elbow, wrapping my arms around him, hoping it’s enough to pull him back.

  I’m well aware Gears is a prisoner here. He has been for a while, but the man has his hands tied behind his back. In no way is this a fair fight. “Dad, stop!” I yell at him, trying to plead with the reasonable man I know is buried underneath. Sure, he’s a hothead, but he isn’t a monster.

  “You really gonna beat on me while I can’t defend myself? Coward,” Gears grits and I know my dad isn’t going to let his words fly.

  “This won’t ever be a fair fight, motherfucker,” Dad snarls and lands another hit, and I yank him back with all of my might. I use every bit of strength I have and try to pull him back, try to get him to see reason.

  “Yeah, listen to that sweet baby of yours,” Gears speaks up, and I know Dad is seeing red. It doesn’t help Gears keeps adding fuel to the fire I’m trying to put out, so I yank my dad’s arm and look right at Gears.

  “Can’t you shut the fuck up for one minute?” I snap at him and roll my eyes, sick of the pissing contest these guys are always having with each other. It can be anyone in the club. All I know is bikers love to be competitive as can be. I’m surprised they don’t compare dick sizes in the parking lot so one of them can have bragging rights. God, this is ridiculous. Turning to look at my dad, I stare into his icy blue eyes. “You know it’s not worth it.” I grab onto his hand and somehow manage to lead him back toward the chair. I sling my duffel bag over my shoulder and we both make our way out of the barn.

  Once we’re out, I take in a deep breath, amazed I actually made it out here with him. “I would’ve killed him.”

  It takes me a second to process what he’s said, and I swallow hard. “There’s enough blood on your hands, quite literally. He’s not worth it, even if you think he is.” I keep my voice unreadable and expect him to come at me with some sort of smartassed remark, but instead he heads toward the gator, and I hop on the back. He starts it up just as Doom is heading back to his position and within a couple of minutes, we’re at our house. He’s pulled the four-wheeler in our garage and we both walk in through the side door.

  Dad walks straight through and heads upstairs while my mom is sitting in her makeshift office in the living room. She likes to have an eye on Neo and Knox when they’re playing, so she moved her office down here instead of having it upstairs. “What’s stuck up his ass?”

  “Everything. Nothing. I have no idea.” I shrug, giving her my honest answer. How the hell am I supposed to know what’s going on anyway? A few hours ago, he needed all the people in the club for something, so is he in a sourpuss mood because of that, or is it really all because of Gears?

  “I know I saw blood on his hands, and he didn’t come back home with it, so spill.” Mom gets up from behind her massive Mac desktop and walks straight over to me. She has a hand on her hip and her brows are raised as she waits for me to speak.

  “Basically, he and Gears got into a pissing contest. I was at the barn while Dad took Doom and the rest of the club for whatever it was they were doing. He didn’t want to leave Gears alone, I guess. Gears got dicky with him about me, said I was sweet, polite, pretty. I’m damn certain he was gonna say I had a nice ass, but Dad got a hit in before he could finish.”

  Mom scoffs, trying to hide her smile. “Sounds like Zane. Go on.”

  “There’s not really much else to say. I pulled him away and—”

  “You did what now?” Mom questions, concern evident as she draws her eyebrows together and purses her lips.

  Obviously, I did something wrong, but what? “I pulled him away, so he wouldn’t hurt Gears too much. The man’s tied to a wooden post.”

  She nods. “I understand that sweetie, but you stuck up for Gears when you pulled your father away. I’d put money on that’s what he’s thinking right now.”

  “I wasn’t trying to. I just didn’t want him to hurt him too much. He was decent with me while I was there. But when Dad came around, it’s like a switch flipped.” Maybe what I did was wrong, but I’m not wrong for wanting there to be less violence around. I’ve seen enough of it, and everyone here knows I’m not a big fan of the circumstances that tend to follow.

  “I know, honey, just give your dad the night to cool down. In the meantime, stay away from the barn. If you go near it, well, I’m sure it’ll only aggravate your dad even more.”

  “I never go near the barn, and the only reason I went there tonight is because Dad asked me to.” I gently remind her, but a bit of sass comes out too.

  Whatever. I don’t want anything to do with Gears anyway.

  “I know, sorry. I’m only trying to help. You wanna watch a movie and eat some popcorn?” The two of us always do stuff like that. She jokes it’s because she has two boys, and she knows she won’t ever get to watch chick flicks or go shopping with them like she does with me. In this house, we’re obviously outnumbered.

  “Honestly, I’m beat. Maybe tomorrow?”

  Mom smiles brightly at me. “Sure. I’ll see you in the morning. Sleep sweet.”

  “You too,” I reply as I make my way downstairs into the basement. I have a sort of suite down here with my own bathroom. There’s another bedroom and a small living area, but my mom saves the bedroom down here for when my uncle Breaker, her brother, comes to visit. Well, him or her parents.

  Pushing my door open, I walk straight ahead into the darkness until the silky feel of my sheets hits the palms of my hands. I collide onto the bed and roll onto my back, suck in a deep breath, hoping tomorrow won’t be as eventful. Actually, I’m not hoping, I’m praying.

  Chapter Four

  Gears

  In all my time here I’ve yet to be burned, but from the looks of Zane, that’ll be changing. Bama, one of his prospects, has a portable blow torch in his hands. He’s holdin’ it but given the way the kid keeps lookin’ at his Prez, he isn’t gonna keep it in his hands for long.

  “Did you all come to visit me today for a nice chat?” I question, my tone filled with sarcasm. It’s not every day I see the Prez and VP at the same time, and they brought a prospect. Fuck, I’m one lucky son of a bitch.

  Zane scoffs and shakes his head, taking the blow torch from Bama’s hands and turns it on, lighting it. Blackjack stares at his Prez through heavy lids. He’s not on board with this, but at the end of the day, he’ll do what his Prez tells him. If anyone understands, it’s me. There were many times I stood by Boomer, even if I thought he was crossing the line. Look where it got me.

  “I came here for answers,” Zane tells me in a deep-throated growl, almost inhuman.

  He expects answers? What a joke. “What the hell do you expect me to tell you?”

  Zane turns the dial to increase the intensity of the flame and takes a step closer to me. “For starters, where Boomer is, would be nice.”

  This has to be a damn joke. “You’re kiddin’ me, right? I’ve been here for how long and you want me to pull a location outta my fuckin’ ass? You’re fuckin’ insane,” I scoff, shaking my head in complete disbelief.

  Zane snickers and kneels down in front of me, bringing the flame closer to my skin. The heat burns the hairs on my beard, and I stare into this crazy motherfucker’s eyes. “You’d best remember it the next time you wanna talk about my kid. I’ll do anything for her. You’d understand, wouldn’t you? I mean, you gotta baby girl of your own. Isn’t her name Tara?”

  He’s fuckin’ with me. Zane already knows her name. Part of the reason I’m even tellin’ them shit is because they promised to keep her safe. “Don’t play games with me,” I snarl at him. There’s nothin’ I won’t do for my kid, not a damn thing.


  Zane inches the blow torch closer to my face and more of my beard burns, yet the flame doesn’t touch my skin. The heat from the fire sizzles against my pores and I prepare myself for the torture undoubtedly coming my way.

  “We’ve been through this before, Zane. He wouldn’t know where Boomer is. It’s been too long. I get you’re pissed, but c’mon man, don’t be a twisted fuck like Boomer or Rage. Your dad raised you better than that.”

  Zane sneers at Blackjack and his eyes go to his VP. “Yeah, and he kept a hell of a lot of secrets from me too. Let me be real with you, brother, you might be my sister’s ol’ man, but you’re sure as fuck not ever gonna get away with questionin’ me again,” Zane grumbles and looks right back at me. “As for what I’m askin’, you should really get to flappin’ your jaws. Boomer thinks you’re dead, Gears. And when people think they don’t have anyone to spread shit around, well, they go back to their old ways. So, I wanna know anything about the Corrupt Kings that you think might be interestin’ to me. For starters, you can tell me about where you all would hide if shit hit the fan.”

  I have no reason to protect Boomer anymore. He betrayed me, was ready to put me down instead of saving me, and my daughter is safe. I took a vow to never reveal inside information, but if you ask me, he turned his back on me before I ever did the same to him.

  “They were just spotted in Florida not too long ago, and Tennessee,” Blackjack states, causing everyone in the barn to look right at him.

  “Florida and Tennessee, huh?” Zane questions.

  Blackjack gives him a nod. “Yeah. Rati called and gave me a heads up.” Who the fuck is Rati? I’ve never heard that name before.

  Zane must know, though ‘cause he nods. “Alright. What’re they doin’ in the Raiders of Valhalla territory?”

  The Raiders of Valhalla are Nomads . . . why is he even insinuating they have a territory.

  “No idea. Ever since they set up that satellite location since their VP’s ex died and he had to take his kids, they’ve been havin’ problems. My guess is Boomer has some shit goin’ on around there,” Blackjack tells him, and Bama stays quiet, observing, only speaking when being spoken to.

  Zane brings the flame right up to my skin and the fire scorches my cheek. The pungent smell of burning hair wafts through the air. “You’d know. What’s he doin’ out there? Huh? What’s Boomer fuckin’ plannin’?”

  “How the fuck would I know?!” I snap in the Reapers Reject’s Prez’s face. How on earth does he expect me to be able to know? I don’t have inside information. I haven’t seen Boomer in over a year. To ask for this sort of information is fucking insane.

  “They’ve gotta be close with someone around the area. Otherwise, there’s no reason they should be ridin’ through Florida and Tennessee,” Zane comments.

  “If the Skulls Renegade or Raiders of Valhalla MCs saw them with anyone, we’d know. They don’t have allies there, brother. They’re probably tryin’ to form somethin’, but I doubt it’ll happen. Our relationships and reputation run thick through the south,” Blackjack tells Zane, but with his furrowed brows and clenched jaw, Zane doesn’t buy any of it.

  “Gears has to know somethin’. He was the closest person to Boomer for years, so you expect me to accept the fact he doesn’t know what Boomer is thinking? Nah. He knows somethin’ and he’s gonna tell us what it is, no matter what we have to do. So, think hard, ‘cause I’m not gonna play nice with you.”

  Bama and Blackjack both share a worried glance, and it confirms what I’m thinking. Zane isn’t solely looking for answers here. He’s takin’ shit out on me from the other night. Oh well, I brought this on myself, I guess, so I’ll pay the price.

  Chapter Five

  Sydney

  “I know it’s weird I’m here, but I needed to be here today. I needed to see you both because every year without you only gets harder.” Tears spill down my cheeks in an effortless flow and I don’t bother trying to hold them back. I don’t visit my mom or Fist’s graves enough, and the guilt always plagues me.

  I know I should come see them more. It’s a given fact. I should. It’s the right thing to do. The only problem is the way every emotion I’ve hidden comes to the surface, flooding out of me like a dam that has a crack in it. Feeling all this emotion, it’s not something I like. In fact, it’s never something I’ll like. I haven’t just lost my biological parents, but Fist too, and while I’m in a home with parents who love me, I know I’m lucky. At the same time, I have many demons, so much fucking loss, and it screws with my head.

  “There are so many times I wish you two weren’t dead that somehow life took you on different paths and you could be together. I know you’re up there somewhere holding hands, living in a way you never could here, but fuck, it’s hard.” I sniffle and wipe away my tears.

  I love my dad and mom, and Inc, and the kids, and everyone here at the club . . . but this isn’t the same. Yes, I have parents, and while I’ll never make them feel like anything less for not being related to me, I know there’s a difference. I feel it every time Dad looks at Knox. It’s not that he doesn’t love Neo too, but Neo is Inc’s son. Granted, he’s been that boy’s father since the day he was born. I don’t know how to explain it. Hell, I’m doing a shitty job as it is.

  I crane my neck to the right and left, cracking it to relieve some pressure and stare at the headstones in front of me. The grass is a mixture of brown and yellow from the lack of rain we’ve had.

  Inhaling deeply through my nose, I find the courage to push myself up off the dry grass and head to the house. I’ll go to the clubhouse later tonight for my birthday and have celebratory underage drinks and loads of cake with the club, probably around ten or so. I did make some plans for dinner with some friends, but Dad, Mom, and Inc have been really busy today, so I haven’t seen them at all. I know I saw Dad heading toward the barn earlier, but I figure he went to deal with Gears again. I say deal lightly, but whatever. Not my monkey, not my circus.

  The Monroe cemetery is on the top of a hill overlooking a creek and the pastures that’ve been in the family for many generations. I’ll be buried here when it’s my time and I’m certain if I have kids, they will be as well. I might’ve been adopted into this family, but I am a Monroe. Dad always makes sure I know it, too.

  Once I’m at the house, I walk up the stairs, pass through the porch and head in the front door.

  “Syn-ney!” Neo screams my name, or rather what he calls me. He hasn’t really gotten down pronouncing his d’s yet.

  “Hey, kiddo.” I smile brightly as I scoop him up into my arms and hold him on my hip.

  “Gosh, you’re such a natural with the little ones. I can’t wait until you have your own kids. You’re going to be such a natural, Syd.” Mom smiles as she comes over to me and stares in awe.

  “I can wait. Fuck, I can fucking wait. Jesus, O. What’re you sayin’ shit like that for?!” Dad shakes his head and groans at the same time. Meanwhile, Inc’s leaning against the island in the kitchen, trying to keep a straight face.

  “I have to agree with Zane. Take your time, kid. We’re too young to be grandparents,” Inc speaks up, and I can’t help it. I have to bust his balls a bit.

  “Would you be a grandparent? What would it call you, grandpa two, double-g?” I question, giggling as I do. I always tease Inc, Mom, and Dad about their relationship, but it’s all in good fun. I love them all and whatever makes them happy makes me happy.

  “No, we are not having this conversation,” Dad interrupts and comes right over to me, takes Neo from my arms and hands him off to Inc.

  “Where’s Knox?” I ask.

  “Asleep, thank goodness. He didn’t get a bit of sleep last night and he’s finally starting to catch up now,” Mom adds.

  “C’mon, birthday girl, we’ve got somethin’ we wanna show you,” Dad says, sliding an arm around me. He walks me out of the house and Mom is in tow right behind us. We end up getting in her SUV and he drives us to the barn, parks outside, and we go i
n through the old, creaky door. We go in and my eyes lock on Gears for a second before my dad’s lugging me up the stairwell and we’re on the top floor of the barn.

  It hasn’t been used in years and I’m sure it looks like an absolute mess up here, but the moment he puts his hand on the door and pushes it open, I practically have the wind knocked out of me.

  On the right is a dark brown feature wall with built-in shelves, while on the left, the wall is painted black and there’s a modern leather pleated couch. In front of it is a modern coffee table with a honey wood color and a burgundy red carpet is on top of the mahogany brown wood floors.

  As I continue looking through the room, I’m in complete awe. I’m having such a hard time believing everything in front of my eyes. Is this a dream? There is an elaborate desktop system with a digital audio workstation, MIDI controller, studio headphones, an audio interface, a recording mic, and a SPAN signal analyzer. He must’ve spent thousands of dollars on all this. My goodness . . . I’m so fucking lucky.

  “W-what did I do to deserve this?” I stammer out my question and look at my parents.

  “You only turn eighteen once, kiddo, and if you ask us, you deserve it,” Dad tells me as a half-smile pulls at his lips.

  Mom nods while her smile lights up the room. “Sydney, you’ve been through more than any person should. In fact, you’ve survived it . . . so doing this, supporting your dream, that’s the best birthday present we could’ve given you.”

  I take another look around the room and the overwhelming warmth crawling up my neck takes over me. This is so much. It might even be too much. “It’s just . . . a lot.” I’m as honest as I can be.

  Dad shakes his head and crosses his arms. “No, it isn’t. We would’ve spent this much money on you if you wanted to go to college.”

  I lick my bottom lip and give him a curt nod and before I know it, I’m gnawing on my lip and the waterworks from earlier at the graveyard start up again. It’s like they never stopped.