Bull (Reapers MC Book 7) Read online

  The sassy chick rolls her eyes as she walks in with some sort of medical bag, shutting the door firmly behind her. “You are all the same, I swear.”

  She comes over to where I’m standing a few feet away from Alexa and glares at me with all her might. Cocking a brow, she speaks up. “I don’t know what the heck happened to you, but for the love of God please back up. You stink.”

  Raising my hands up in surrender I give the woman some room, watching as she opens her bag and looks over Alexa. “Oh, you poor thing.”

  “Are you gonna tell us your name?” Blackjack asks the woman.

  She turns her head back, “I’d rather not but knowing you bikers,” she spits out the word bikers like we’re toxic as fuck. “All you’re gonna do is annoy me until I do. So, I’m Cheyenne. Now, will you let me work?”

  Blackjack and I share the same look. I bet we’re both wondering where the Corrupt Kings got this one. She’s certainly not personable and her bedside manner seems to be crap. Her patients probably hate her.

  “Blackjack, I’m gonna go get a shower real quick. You good watching Alexa for a while?”

  He nods, “Yeah, sure thing. When you get out of the shower I’ll go grab her some decent food. Something that won’t make her sick.”

  “And you’ll grab whatever else I put on the list for you too.” Cheyenne hisses out, glaring at Blackjack.

  Yep, this is definitely my cue to go hide in the bathroom. At least I’ll be safe there.

  13

  War does not determine who is right. It determines who is left

  ~unknown

  Alexa/Lola

  I’ve never seen two grown men want to make themselves scarce more than these two in my entire life. Bull went into the bathroom to wash my disgusting vomit off his chest and out of his beard. I don’t know if he noticed a few specks in there . . . but I saw them. Poor guy. Ugh. Meanwhile Blackjack went outside the door for a smoke.

  Cheyenne grumbled and told him to get lost, giving me the impression she likes to work in privacy. She shuffles through her bag and I see her pull out some gauze, alcohol and a few other things. I’m not a medical professional so the hell if I know what they are. “I’m Alexa,” I start off saying but awkwardly grow quiet. Cheyenne has an intense personality and I freeze like I’ve never spoken to anyone before.

  “I’d say it’s nice to meet you but I’d be lying. I loathe meeting people this way more than anything else. Usually whenever my brother calls in a favor it’s never a good thing. I was proven right again today. Only, most of the time the guys I’m stitching up don’t look as bad as you.”

  I want to take offense, but I don’t. Obviously Cheyenne’s brother must call her in to help out every now and again. “I appreciate you coming to help, so thank you.” If this is going to be a miserable experience for her I want her to know how grateful I am for what she’s doing.

  She shrugs, “As long as I’m helping someone I don’t care. Usually I’m sewing up flesh wounds or popping things back into sockets. I haven’t seen a woman in your physical condition in . . . three years at least. What the hell happened?”

  I don’t owe her anything, nor do I need to tell her what I’ve gone through. Although if I don’t say a thing the awkward silence will continue to fester between us both and I really don’t want to have to go through that. “Do you want the long story, or the short one?”

  She cackles, “Seeing as I’m gonna be here a while you should probably go with the long one.”

  “Alright. I was kidnapped by men who kept me in a storage shed hanging up by my wrists for weeks until they moved me to a basement. They questioned me about my father, wanting to know where he was. I don’t know the reasons why and I don’t care to know, but again his actions put me in danger and made me ridiculously uncomfortable. The bastards pulled out some of my teeth and did this,” I point to my missing eye. “Not to mention every time they’d hit me with a crowbar, their fists or whatever object was nearest to them. I woke up in this motel room not too long ago with Blackjack and Bull. They explained they were friends and their part in all this.”

  Cheyenne gives me an odd look, squinting her brows but raising them at the same time. “I don’t believe anyone are friends if they’re in an MC, Alexa. Maybe it’s because I’ve been burned on the other side of the tracks but if you ask me, only grief will come your way.”

  Something in the way she says it makes me think she’s been through hell and back just like me. Only I’m betting her circumstances were so much different. “I don’t mean to be a crass bitch, but I’m not the type who holds back what I think or how I feel. I love my brother, and I grew up looking at Boomer like he was an adoptive brother to me . . . but when his deadbeat dad came up out of the blue and dragged him into this life after being gone for years it was a slap in the face. After everything we did for him, all the pain he’d gone through because of that man. Fuck. It’s like it never happened. At least, it’s what Boomer wants everyone to think anyway. I steer clear of the club and never go there, but if he needs help from me I won’t say no. You don’t say no to family after all, even if you don’t believe in their life choices.”

  Wow. Times like this make me realize I’m not the only one with rough family shit. While mine might be on a completely different spectrum, I totally empathize with Cheyenne. “Boomer’s called on me a few times for situations like this, where women like you need my help. Honestly, I’d rather help you ladies versus the club. I feel like if I help the guys out there I’m condoning whatever they’ve done. Hell, I’ve seen shows like Sons of Anarchy. I know clubs like this aren’t the good guys. They’re vigilantes and will do whatever they damn well please.”

  “I don’t know enough about them to give my own opinion,” I state.

  “Yeah, well if you’re smart you’ll stay the hell away. From my experiences the only thing women who are close to these guys get are hurt and that’s if their enemies don’t use your life as a form of retaliation.”

  I didn’t see it clearly before, but Cheyenne has been through some shit. I can tell when a woman has some skeletons in her closet and she’s hiding something. My gut is telling me it has something to do with why she’s not a fan of people in an MC, but I won’t truly know unless I ask. I’m not a nosey person though and if she wants to tell me she will.

  I’ll just have to see if she feels like chatting anytime soon. If one thing’s for sure it’s that I like her. Somehow, for some odd reason I appreciate her attitude and sass. She doesn’t seem like a bitch to me. In all honesty she just seems human.

  14

  The first thing you should know about me is that I’m not you. A lot more will make sense after that

  ~unknown

  Bull

  I step out of the shower onto the towel I laid down on the floor before I got in and grab a fresh one off the rack. After I’ve dried my entire body I wrap the towel around my waist and wipe my hand on the mirror so I can see my reflection. My beard is a mess and of course I didn’t bring a comb. It’s not like we were planning on staying. Shoot. The fact I don’t have any clothes slaps me across the face like an unwelcome truth. What am I gonna do? I gave Alexa everything decent I had to wear when I pulled her out of that basement. Since she went and threw up all over the only clothes I had left I’m guessin’ I have no other choice than to wear this towel or let those two see me in my damn birthday suit.

  I contemplate staying in the bathroom the rest of the night but decide against it. Who in the fuck hides in a bathroom? Sure as hell not a grown ass man. I make sure the towel is wrapped tightly around my nether regions and open the bathroom door, going back into the motel room where the two queen beds and dinky couch are.

  Alexa is sitting up against the headboard with ice on her leg again. Out of all her swollen areas her right knee is the worst. It looks like they hit her a few dozen times with a baseball bat if you ask me. “Where’s the bitchy chick?” I don’t bother saying her name.

  “Cheyenne left. She said I’d be fine and I was lucky.”

  “Wait. She left?” This has to be a joke. Surely she would’ve stuck around to tell us Alexa’s care regimen or something.

  Alexa nods, “Yes, she left. She told me to put some antibiotic ointment on my wound, explained since because the eye is gone and no additional muscle was cut I’ll be fine. You guys were smart when you put pressure on my eye supposedly. If you didn’t it could’ve been a lot worse.”

  Thank fuck for Blackjack is more like it. “That was all Blackjack. He was a medic in the Army and knows what to do when it comes to trauma.” As soon as we got her in the truck he had me drive while he took a t-shirt and applied pressure to her wound. It wasn’t bleeding badly so I had questioned him on it. He told me that the eye is a very delicate area and he didn’t know how deep Alexa was cut. By forcing weight on it, he was able to stop the bleeding and see if the wound was even worse than he imagined.

  “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, so thank you.” Alexa states as she keeps her eye trained on my own. But I notice the way her eye drifts down my chest to where my towel is and I wonder what is running across that mind of hers.

  “My pleasure.” I say, noticing how her eye drifts lower and I catch her raising her brows in shock. I already know what’s surprised her. It’s my prosthetic legs. “When I was enlisted in the Marines I got too close to a bomb and off my legs went.” I say in a joking manner, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Oh, I-I didn’t mean to be rude. I’m so sorry. God, that was ridiculously impolite.”

  I chuckle, “Nah, don’t sweat it, darlin’. It’s kinda cool, especially when I go in town during the summer and all the kids see me in shorts. They think I’m a damn transformer and come up to me. It’s the coolest thing ever.”

  She smiles brightly, giggling a bit as she speaks. “I bet that’s adorable. I didn’t mean to seem like I was prying, though.”

  “I mean it you know. Don’t worry about it. It’s easier if I tell you now versus waiting anyway.”

  She looks off towards the door, “I wonder when Blackjack will be back.”

  “He left?” I question.

  “Yeah, he went to go get you some clothes so I wouldn’t have to see your junk swinging around. His words.” Alexa chuckles at the end, bringing her attention back to me.

  I didn’t have any clue Blackjack was going to get clothes but I won’t bitch about it. I’m grateful to be getting some clothes. I can’t really make a first impression anyway in a towel. I probably look like a damn Roman in some sort of toga shit.

  I place my ass on the desk and make myself comfortable when Alexa catches me off guard with a question. “So, how did you get involved in this type of life?”

  “We playing twenty questions or somethin’?” I laugh, waiting for her response.

  “Do you have a better idea on how we can pass the time? We’re two strangers stuck in a room together. You’re half naked. I’m in your clothes and your dick is hanging out from your towel.” I glance down at the last thing she’s said and see my head hanging out the bottom. I didn’t even realize I had spread my legs a bit when I sat down. It caused the towel to rise up a bit. Fuck.

  “My bad. Usually you don’t get to see the goods until the third date. Lucky number three after all.”

  “Oh please, you aren’t the type who could last one date without sinking your pecker in someone.”

  “Wanna bet?” I challenge.

  “As a matter of fact, I do. You look far too rugged frat-boy to ever not get what you want.”

  “Who said I don’t get what I want? I love the chase, to savor working myself up to that point.”

  “Oh, thank goodness. I thought you were gonna tell me you liked to get to know the chick.”

  I shake my head, “No, only certain ones. Honestly, I haven’t found a woman I’ve wanted to take the time to know in a really long time.”

  “Why’s that?” She asks. I have two choices right now. I could either lie to her face or be truthful. The truth hurts but lying would set us up on the wrong foot.

  “‘Cause the woman I loved died and imagining spending my life with anyone but her is my own personal form of hell.”

  “Wow. That’s deep.”

  “It’s honest.” I reply.

  “I can’t imagine being in that type of love.” She confesses, and it makes me curious on whether or not she’s ever been in love in the first place.

  I stand up, gauging the seriousness our conversation is heading into. “I was lucky to experience it once. Honestly, I don’t think it’ll ever happen for me again. If it does, shit, I might be one of those men who get struck by lightning twice, defying odds and all that shit. What about you? What’s your story with the big ol’ l-word?”

  Alexa laughs, “I don’t have much of a story. I’ve always put my heart in my work. Sure I had a few one-night stands but I found it was better and easier for me to take care of myself versus depending on a man to do it.”

  Whoa. What she’s just said makes me want to show her what the right type of man can do for her. “Darlin’, you obviously haven’t had the right men in your life. Although, not all of them can be as blessed as others.” I add a wink on at the end for good measure.

  “Bull, are you flirting with me?” She plays coy.

  “If you have to ask I know why you’ve never been in a solid loving relationship.” I tease.

  “Pfft! Okay. Enough about my lack of love life. I asked you a question and you didn’t answer me.”

  Ah, yeah she’s right. She asked me how I got involved in the club. “After I came home and went through all my therapy learning to use these bad boys,” I point down to my prosthetics, “I was a bit lost. My Aunt Char raised me and was my support system. She was friends with our old VP. They were neighbors as kids and went to the same schools and all that. I think she saw me slipping into a place I didn’t want to go down and at that point she got me connected with Cracker. Hell, she begged my ass to go have lunch with him. I remember being so bitter about eating with some old guy I never even met before. I can honestly say it’s the best decision I ever made. All my life I had hated not having a real, typical family. It was just Aunt Char and I. But after I met Cracker I found more men like me, men who I could count on and who’d be there for me. I found a damn family in one of the most unexpected places.”

  “All by having lunch with one old man.” She mutters in a low tone, smirking as she finishes speaking.

  I nod, “Yep. It’s crazy how one conversation with a stranger can lead you on a completely different life path.”

  15

  When something bad happens you have three choices: let it define you, let it destroy you, or let it strengthen you.

  ~Unknown

  Alexa/Lola

  Blackjack came back at some point later in the evening. I ended up falling asleep on the firm mattress in the hotel room. One I’d usually complain about, however going from what I’d been dealing with to a hard mattress made me feel like I was sleeping in a five-star resort.

  I woke up earlier than both men. Bull was sprawled across the other bed while Blackjack had his hood up on his jacket and fell asleep on the couch. I tried to make my way to the bathroom by myself but my legs gave out, causing me to tumble down onto the bathroom floor.

  I thought I didn’t wake anyone up when I heard Bull’s ginormous feet shuffling over in my direction. He flipped the light switch on in the bathroom and chastised me for not having it on in the first place. I had to explain I didn’t want the light to wake anyone up and how I was intending to turn it on once I got the door closed.

  He stood while I sat on the floor bickering for a good ten minutes until he asked me what I was trying to do. I don’t know why I was so irritated but I was. I hadn’t used a toilet in ages and found myself finally able to, only my body is still far too weak for me to be able to do things by myself. I hate needing to be reliant on others to assist me, but it seems I can’t escape the mere fate.

  He helped me up onto the toilet and shut the door, leaving me alone for a few minutes. After I flushed the toilet I managed to get up, open the door and take a couple steps to the sink outside of the bathroom by myself. Although, Bull came right up behind me and held my hips so I wouldn’t waver to the left or right resulting in another fall.

  I wipe my hands on the white towel hanging on the wall and look into his reflection in the mirror as he speaks. “This isn’t me sayin’ you stink or any of that, but do you wanna shower? I caught the way you looked back into the bathroom.”

  I’d kill for a shower. Hell, even a bath. My skin is disgusting, filled with dirt and grime from all those weeks. “I’d love a bath. I just . . .” can’t do it by myself. I want to say it out loud but I’m not sure if I should. While I’m debating what to say Bull speaks again.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll help you.” He scoops his arm up under my knees and carries me back into the bathroom, sets me down on the toilet and turns the water on. I watch as he goes out to the sink, grabs a couple of towels and brings in the complimentary soap and shampoo. The bar of soap has an eggshell yellow color and while it would usually make me cringe, it doesn’t today. Whether or not that soap is three years old it’ll still help get all the nastiness off my body.

  Bull shuts the door behind him and looks back to me. “If you don’t want my help once I get you in there I don’t have to. I’m not sure what you’re comfortable with and what you aren’t.” Something in his voice makes me feel like he genuinely cares, but maybe I’m seeing things that aren’t actually there. He and Blackjack are the first people to show me compassion for the last few weeks, so maybe I’m overly emotional and my head is tricking me.