Booger (Reapers MC Book 3) Read online

  It’s hot as balls out here right now, it being early fall. I can’t imagine how hot it is in the dead of summer here. Thank God we’ve come down here at this time. I sneak into the clubhouse for a little bit of good ol’ air conditioning and see Widow sitting down at one of the couches, scrolling on his phone. He’s a hard guy to get a read on but even so, I can tell he’s a bit somber right now. “You good?”

  He cackles, “I’ll be alright. Nothing’s ever kept me down long before.”

  I furrow my brows, hearing a little bit of shit about Widow and Amara before we left Montana. I don’t know everything, but I heard enough through the gossip chain. “What’s up?”

  Widow puts his phone down and leans back in his seat, “Just that, nothing. Amara and I are finished. I can’t forgive her for what she’s done.”

  “What do you mean?” There was a rumor that Amara was pregnant. I heard it back in Billings, but now I’m wondering if there’s any truth to that so called rumor.

  He runs his hand over his mouth, like he’s contemplating what to say. “She aborted my kid, man. She fuckin’ aborted my kid and didn’t even tell me about it. I only found out by mistake. What kind of shit is that? I can’t even fuckin’ look at her without wanting to kill her.” I can’t blame him for that. He and Amara have been together for a while from what I know, but if that’s the case, neither of them can be afraid of commitment. I’ve found out over the years that there’s always a reason for some sort of action like this. I’m just wondering what Amara’s reason is.

  There’s nothing that I can say that will make him feel better. “I’m sorry man. I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”

  “You know what she fuckin’ told me? She said I already have a family, whatever the fuck that even means. I told her to explain, but she fuckin’ wouldn’t. She just stared at me like I was the devil and ran out. I don’t even know where she is right now, not that I care.” He huffs. I know he’s angry at her for what she did, but him saying he doesn’t care is complete bullshit. When you care about people, especially women, that love doesn’t just fade. While our hearts may hurt, we just act like we’re dandy on the outside and could give a rats ass about them. Sometimes I don’t think women know the true power they hold over us. “Enough about me and my bullshit. I was lookin’ for the bunker and I can’t find it.”

  “What do you mean? What bunker?” I ask, cause as far as I know we don’t have one.

  He scrunches up his nose, “You know, where we’re gonna keep our extra guns and ammo for whenever shit goes down. Our failsafe.”

  “I know what you’re saying. We just don’t have one.”

  “What do you mean we don’t have one!?” Widow jumps up from his seat and throws his hands in the air. “Are you jokin’ with me, Boog? I don’t like jokers. If you’re fuckin’ playing with me, I’ll make you look like that fucked up psycho from Batman. Don’t test me, brother.”

  “Jesus. Chill out, man. I’m saying we don’t have one cause Damon didn’t mention one to any of us.” I look over to Hawk who’s smoking a cigarette in the clubhouse. He knows damn well, he’s gonna get an earful from Kat when she comes in and smells that shit. “He mention a bunker to you?”

  He shakes his head back and forth.

  “See. None of us have heard about it.”

  “Kinda interesting we haven’t talked about it, considering we already aren’t welcomed around here. Shit, most of us weren’t even here and you and your girl already ran into trouble. We should be stocked up and prepared, not defenseless like we are now. Shit, what do we have? Maybe twenty glocks? You know those motherfucker’s are gonna be packin’ like the crazy bastards they are.”

  I pull out my phone so we can call Damon and hash this shit out, but I don’t have to as the door to the club comes open and he, Cobra and the girls waltz in. Camila comes over to me, empty handed. I give her a confused look, “Where’s the coffee pot?”

  “Everything’s already in the house. We got a few things so I can start cooking decent meals in the trailer.” I wrap my arm around her and get a good look at her smile. It’s funny how something as small as kitchenware can make her happy.

  “Where the fuck is our bunker, D?” Widow hisses at him. Shit, if I were him, I wouldn’t be talking to Damon like that.

  Damon cranks his head in Widow’s direction. “You wanna watch how you speak to me? What crawled up your ass and put you in this sour mood?”

  Widow opens his mouth to speak, but then slams it shut. I take it he doesn’t wanna talk about his love life problems. Especially when Amara is Damon’s sister. “Sorry. I’m just worried about these fuckin’ little gang worms causing more problems. Doesn’t seem like we’re prepared if they decide to haul ass and come against us. We need a bunker, and you know we do.”

  Damon chuckles and shakes his head, I watch as Kat makes a face and then motions to Camila for her to follow. This can’t be good.

  “It’s nice to know that you’re doing my job for me, Widow.” Damon stalks towards him, whips his knife from his holster and holds it to Widow’s neck. Hawk looks to me and I look, warning him with a silent look to not interfere. I do the same with Cobra, but if I know anything about that motherfucker, it’s that he does whatever he damn well feels like doing. “Next time you want to disrespect me, don’t.”

  Widow snickers, “Boy, you’re sure acting like good ol’ Roman right now. I meant no disrespect, Damon. Just stating the obvious, that we need some guns and ammunition.”

  “How about next time you take it to your Prez.” Damon’s tone comes out ice cold, telling everyone in this room that he knows a lot more than what we think he does. Widow and Damon have been friends for eons, but the tension between these two is interesting.

  “If we get some excavating equipment, I’m sure Widow can figure some shit out pretty quick.” I say, causing Damon to look over in my direction. He takes the knife from Widow’s throat and approaches me.

  “I already have an idea. I just need an old school bus.”

  “School bus?” Hawk questions.

  Widow nods, “Yep. I’ll get an old school bus and hook it up with an electric system. That way we’ll have lighting for whenever we go down into the bunker. It’ll be a decent size, and I’ll have a ladder going down from the emergency exit at the top, that’s how we’ll get in.”

  “Are we gonna make an underground tunnel while we have the equipment?” I ask Damon,

  “Why would we?”

  “We have underground tunnels at the Reapers clubhouse. Incase shit ever went bad or the feds got involved, we have someplace to hide shit or get our asses outta there.”

  He shifts on one leg to the other, “It’s not a bad idea. I like it.”

  The front door to the club opens again and in walks Amara, blood red hair flowing down her back, dressed like she’s ready to kill someone. She pulls out her vape and takes a deep breath. “What the hell are you all looking at?” She purposefully keeps her eyes away from Widow, instead focusing on the rest of us.

  “We’re going to get a bunker for guns and ammo, and run an underground tunnel incase shit hits the fan.” Damon says.

  She nods her head a couple of times, “It’s a good idea. Better to be safe than sorry. Who are we getting more guns from, the Steele’s?”

  “Yeah. I’ll call Christian and let him know.”

  “Don’t bother. I’m texting him right now.” Amara says to her brother as she taps away on her cell phone. We all hear the text being sent and within a moment there’s another sound coming in, signifying that she’s gotten a text in return. “He’ll be hand delivering it. I’ll give him all the details on what we need. When will the bunker be ready?”

  Damon looks over to Widow at the same time Amara does. Even as an outsider, I can tell there is pain behind both of their eyes. I’m guessing the truth behind the mess they’re in will come out very shortly.

  “The sooner I get the equipment, the sooner it gets done.” Is all that Widow sa
ys to us before he walks past Amara and leaves the club, slamming the door shut on his way out.

  15

  I can be changed by what happens to me, but I refuse to be reduced by it.

  -Maya Angelou

  Booger

  Amara and Damon were able to get some excavation equipment pretty quick, and soon after Widow started working. In a day, he had the entire hole dug and he’s still quickly away at work. We haven’t had any problems from that low life gang, but what I’ve figured out is that they’re always around, just waiting. They are snakes after all. All they’re doing is waiting for the right moment to strike. The only thing is, they won’t find one. We’ll cut their heads off before they do.

  “Whoa. Who on earth is that?” Hawk asks, pointing off into the distance. I turn my head around and see a lifted, blacked out Jeep Wrangler heading straight for us. Instinctively, I place my hand on my gun, ready to shoot a motherfucker. If you ask me, it’s better if he’s bleeding when I’m asking questions. You never want to be too risky and have the potential for someone to get hurt. That’s what Fist taught me when I was first starting out. Our main objective is to protect our families and brotherhood above all else. I’ll stick to these values until the day I die.

  The Jeep comes to a screeching halt just a mere twenty feet away and the door pops open. Out comes a middle aged, white, bald guy. He has tat’s creeping up his neck that flow into his head. “Who the fuck are you?” I snarl at the stranger.

  He smiles, pulling his designer sunglasses up on his head. “I’m here to see your boss. Word is, you’re the new key players around town.”

  I don’t let this fucker gain an inch, ‘cause he’ll try to take a mile. I just know it. I wave my gun around in the air, and point it at him directly. “My advice to you my friend, is for you to get back into that f-ugly Jeep of yours and go back to wherever it is you came from.”

  Damon and Amara both come out of the clubhouse door, almost wearing the same expression. Damon looks like he’s wondering who this dude is. While Amara looks entertained as fuck.

  “Who might you be?” She asks, walking closer to him. I still have my gun trained on him. If he so much as flinches, he’ll have a hole going through his body.

  “I’m Vinny, one of your new friends here in Vegas.”

  “Oh, you’re a friend?” Amara giggles, crossing her arms in front of her chest, she looks him up and down. “My friends always warn me of their arrival, give me a heads up. You seem to be a bit rude to just show up in the way you did. Don’t you think?”

  Damon stands still, allowing his sister to take the lead on this. It’s not like we have a normal clubhouse down here. Our club is split between two entirely different MC’s that are obvious allies. No other has ever done this before. In fact, I don’t think any other will. It’s complicated as fuck and the rules are unwritten.

  “My apologies.”

  “My friends always bring me something too, Vinny. What have you brought me?” From the corner of my eye, I see Widow’s face contort into anger. He’s furious at Amara, and since things have been silent with them the past few days, we’re all expecting them to blow up pretty soon.

  “My services, Amara.” The fact he knows her name doesn’t phase her, or any of us. We’ve had bastards like this come to us before, one’s who are good at digging up information. The question is, what kind of service does he provide. I’m putting my bets on the fact that we’re all about to find out shortly.

  Amara pulls out her vape and takes a drag, “I don’t need anyone else working for me, Vinny. I’m good.”

  “With all due respect, you don’t have anyone, like me, Miss. Your family below the border is heading for a war that they will not win, and your sister has been caught helping the other side. I doubt your uncle would appreciate that information.”

  Amara’s face turns bright red, the anger obviously affecting her. So, there must be some truth to it. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. My sister is out of the country.”

  “I get information, that is one of my many services. I find things out, things that most wouldn’t be able to. Only, I’m not a rat. I’m a consultant of sorts. One who happens to be an expert at forging every document you can imagine, from a deed to a house to your kid’s sick note. I’m your guy. Not to mention, I’m playing in the counterfeiting game and my system is flawless. The government hasn’t even been able to tell I’ve been circulating mine into their mix. I doubt they will for a good five or ten years, but by then, I’ll just have something better again.”

  He moves his hand to his pocket and I wave my gun around, “You’d better watch what you’re doing there, buddy. I’m feelin’ a little trigger happy today.”

  “Oh, I’m simply just showing Amara what she didn’t believe. It’s just a photograph.” Cobra marches up to the man and rips it out of his hands, walking it over to his Prez, he hands it to her. She tries to hold back the shock on her face, but she can’t. It’s so easy to pick up on with the way her eyes go wide. In all the times I’ve ever seen Amara and Damon interact, it’s almost always been conflicting. This is different, it looks like nothing but a girl who needs her brother.

  Damon approaches her, peering over her shoulder to look at the image and then takes the image and puts it in his pocket. “Is this the only photograph you have?”

  “Oh no, I have them backed up on a server. But, don’t worry. I’m a smart man, and it’s not smart to piss off a family such as your own. I’m here to offer my services to you all, including my forgeries, counterfeits, and sensitive information. Obviously, from the photograph I’ve just provided you both with, you know that I’m good.”

  Amara whispers something to Damon, and he looks at her and nods once. “We’re interested, but if you so much as breathe a word of what you know to anyone, or share this photograph I will kill you and everyone you love. You can count on that. No one messes with my family.”

  Vinny smiles, almost as if he’s won the best prize at the carnival. “Oh, you can count on that Damon. No one messes with the familia and gets away with it.”

  Instead of correcting him like I think he will, he says something that surprises me. “No, you’re wrong. No one lives long enough to do it. Now get out of here, we’ll be in contact shortly.”

  Vinny gets back in his Jeep and drives off into the distance. Meanwhile, I’m sure that I’m not the only one left wondering what the photograph is, or who wants to know more information about their sister. I know it’s none of my business, so I stay out of it.

  “I’m gonna go check on Camila. Haven’t seen her in a few hours,” I tell the group of them, making sure that they hear me. Heading back to the trailer, I walk straight in and head to grab a pop out of the fridge before I go into our room. Flipping the tab of the can open, I revel in the feeling of bubbles floating across my taste buds. This shit is like an off brand of a grape pop, but boy is it good. Camila picked it up when she went to grab the coffee pot and I’ll have to ask her to get me some more.

  Placing my hand on the knob, I turn it slowly and enter our bedroom. She’s sprawled out across the bed, shaking feverishly. I set my pop down on the dresser and go over to her, sitting on the side of the bed. “Princess, it’s alright.” I say, thinking that she must be having some sort of nightmare.

  “No… please don’t… no… no!” She continues thrashing, throwing her body in all sorts of positions. Beads of sweat run over her brow and my concern for her grows. I’ve had nightmares like this before too, ones that feel far too real. That’s only because they’re not a nightmare at all. They’re haunting memories that come back to plague us in our dreams.

  Moving my hands towards her, I brush them over her skin, hoping that the gentle caresses will help. They don’t, though. “No!” She screams, shooting forward from her sleep. Her eyes scatter around the room in complete fear until they land on me. Hands shaking, she takes a deep breath. “I’m so s-sorry,”

  The selfish bastard in me wants to know wha
t’s going on. What’s happened to her that has given her this level of fear, but I know not to press her. She’ll tell me in her own time. I have to have faith in that. I scoot myself further into bed with her and lean on my side, wrapping my arms around her body. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m here now. You’re safe with me, Princess. You’re always going to be safe with me.”

  16

  She could be heaven or hell, a strong man’s dream and a weak ones nightmare.

  -Reggie Nulan

  Camila

  I woke up early this morning and took a long, hot shower. Thoughts of last night ran through my mind, knowing that there’s no way we’re not going to talk about my nightmare. I’ve thought about trying to play it off like I can’t remember but it’s no use. He’ll be able to tell I was alert and caught me in the brunt of it.

  As I whisk eggs in the bowl, I think about how I’ll tell him about my dream. Only, a few short years ago, it wasn’t a dream. It was a traumatic event that happened to me, where part of me was taken without my consent. In almost all countries, it’s illegal and those who complete this surgical procedure are imprisoned. However, there are some who view it was a religious necessity. I know that religion wasn’t involved. This act was purely done out of hate, to make my life even worse than what it was at the time.

  Pouring the eggs in the heated pan, I watch as they bubble and start to form into an omelet. I want to make sure that we both have something to eat before I tell him about my dream, and what was done to me. I know he’s curious, and I can’t blame him for that. If the roles were reversed, I’d have probably already pressed to know what happened. I know Boog isn’t the type to do that, but there won’t be any hiding it for much longer. Especially if his hands try to wander again, or if he wants to have sex during the daytime. He’ll see my mutilation, and I just hope it doesn’t make him want to be rid of me. That’s been my worst fear since this happened, that a man will never love me because of it.