My Silver Lining (Reapers MC: Shasta Chapter Book 2) Read online

  And I can’t walk away from this club. Sure, I hate Shasta some days, and I most definitely hate a lot of the men in my chapter. However, the Reapers are my family. I was raised to be a member. My father takes great pride in the men around him. I don’t have that with most of my guys, but my best friend is my VP. My brother is my enforcer. We claimed this town for the Reapers. It’s ours, and I refuse to walk away.

  After dropping off an already doped-up Joe Bob at his place, I return the SUV to the Saloon. The place is quiet now, with only a few guys around. The former Skullz-turned-Reapers aren’t all shit. There’s Utah, who I ask to get the SUV cleaned tomorrow. And Chase, who I tell to pound on the meth dealers out on Big Stack Road until they pay up the money they’re short.

  I try to take solace in the fact that I’m not completely surrounded by losers pining for their past glory. I have men I can trust.

  After finishing at the Saloon, I’m back on my hog, driving around Shasta and searching for something that I can’t find.

  Earlier, Taylor texted to say she was hanging out with Kelsi until the sweet butt’s housemate Hugh got home from work. With things settled, I should call it a night at the two-tone blue Victorian I share with Shelby, Shane, Ramona, and the poop machine.

  But I find myself circling through Shasta, even after a light mist chills my skin. I don’t know what I’m waiting for. I can picture Shelby at the house, watching a horror movie while stretched out on one of the many couches in the TV room. Ramona will no doubt be cuddled with Shane nearby. Every night, they put the kid down around eight and chill for a few hours before heading to bed. They already have a routine like an old couple.

  Over a year ago, Shane saw Ramona from across the street. He stalked her. She didn’t know he fucking existed while he obsessed over her every move. He listened to her radio show, even if most of the music she plays is trash. When they met, he fucked up, but he never gave up. Ramona allowed him plenty of chances to win her heart. They’re younger than I am, but they made shit work.

  And I’m alone. That’s not something I cared about before last year. I wasn’t sure I wanted a woman or kids. Easy sex with sweet butts left me satisfied. I got my emotional needs filled by my friends. Life was good. Then I saw Maxine and thought she was my Ramona. I was going to make her mine. But I couldn’t win her heart.

  And that disappointment has never stopped eating at me. Because I’ve lived my life succeeding. I’m the golden child. I took over this town with ease. I always win.

  But I can’t win Maxine.

  And I feel that loss tonight. Most nights, really.

  Which is why I find myself parked in front of her parents’ house. Her mother and stepfather live in a small, tidy ranch on the outskirts of the Boulders. This place isn’t so far from my home, but Maxine always feels a million miles away.

  Tonight, I walk to her door with no plan. I don’t even know what I expect to happen.

  But I have to knock because pretending isn’t working for me anymore.

  I expect to find the right words once Maxine stands in front of me. Instead, I stare silently while her big blue eyes watch me with dread.

  Because no matter how much promise I see in Maxine, the only thing she sees in me is her greatest fear.

  MAXINE LEROUX, AKA THE COOK

  I’ve been a nervous person for as long as I can remember. My mom says I was a shy yet easygoing kid until one day, I wasn’t. We both know what triggered the change. A bad husband, ill-suited for fatherhood, is bound to create ripple effects. That was husband number two for mom. She’s on number four now. Time helped her find a new man, but it didn’t do shit about my nervous tendencies.

  A broken jaw did the trick, though. I’m not entirely cured of my nervous nature, of course. I’m still all jittery on the inside. Yet on the outside, I fake my calm better. I guess I should thank Chef Alix for losing his temper with me that day.

  A funny thing happened after he broke my jaw. I ended up indebted to bikers. Not the ones who destroyed my family years earlier, but still dangerous men. My best friend, Ramona, is married to one of the Reapers. When I got hurt, Shane called in help from their chapter in Ellsberg.

  A violent biker is the reason I have a nest egg now, leaving me indebted to the Reapers. I’m still all mixed up in the head about what happened. The Crushed Skullz used their power to destroy my family’s business. They never paid any cost over what happened. My hardworking, kind stepfather died months later. He suffered for their deeds. My mother and I lost him and our home. Everything dissolved into shit and not a damn thing could be done about it. That’s the power of dangerous men.

  Then another group of bikers took over my problem in Nashville. Cooper Johansson isn’t just the president of the Reapers in Ellsberg. He’s a lawyer too, and he knows people in Nashville who put the squeeze on Chef Alix. My medical bills were paid, and I received a payment of over a million dollars. In exchange for the money, I dropped the charges and signed a nondisclosure agreement. The hotshot chef made his problem go away, and I’m financially set.

  Cooper didn’t even charge me anything. I don’t know why he or any of them helped. I’m no one. Yet they swooped in and fixed my problems. That’s the power of dangerous men.

  In both cases, I felt utterly powerless. I was only a teenager with the Skullz, and I couldn’t speak with the Reapers. Even if I were an adult with a fully functioning jaw, I seriously doubt what I thought would have mattered. Men like them bulldoze those in their way. The first time, I was collateral damage. The second time, I had value. And that’s why it messes with my head.

  As a kid, adults made me believe that everyone is born “special.” Of course, that’s a lie. We don’t all have value. Some of us will die and leave behind a legion of mourners. Others will disappear without a single shrug. The world isn’t fair, we don’t possess an intrinsic value, and the good guys don’t usually win. I got lucky that my best friend won the heart of a violent man with influential allies. Otherwise, I would have been a poor, injured woman facing off against a rich chef and his powerful lawyers.

  I wake up every day thankful that I had the scarier bad guys on my side this time. Chef Alix must have been terrified after learning he wasn’t facing a two-bit lawyer, but a man far more dangerous than anything he saw in the mirror.

  That was months ago. While I do wake up and feel thankful, I rarely think about Chef Alix. Or my time in Nashville. I enjoyed the city, spending time with people who shared my love of food. I learned a lot, but I always felt like a poser. I wasn’t as educated as they were. I didn’t have their natural talents. I just wanted to make the kind of food that Eamon taught me. My goals were simple, while my coworkers owned big dreams.

  Returning to Shasta should have felt like a step back. Instead, I’m relieved to be home. Shasta might be a dump in a lot of ways, from the forever-lingering rendering plant smell to the lack of dining choices. However, this town is where I can be me rather than a person faking her way through the day.

  Shasta is also where my family lives and where my only real friends call home. The people I hung out with in Nashville cut me loose as soon as things turned ugly with Chef Alix. I guess I get that. He was still their boss and a lifeline to a better career. But I know the Band—Ramona, Hugh, and Kelsi—would never turn on me for a job. They own the purest hearts I’ve ever known.

  And now I can see them every day. Which is why I never plan on leaving Shasta again. I got what I needed from that year in Nashville. I tried to be a chef, but I’m really just a cook. I’d rather flip burgers at McDonald's in Shasta than work in a trendy restaurant anywhere else.

  Soon, I’ll move out of the home my mom shares with Dave, a sour, easily annoyed man. Their three-bedroom house is currently crowded. Not only did I return to Shasta last Christmas, but my older sister, Maude, moved back too. She and her eight-year-old daughter, Desiree—aka Desi—now share one bedroom while I bunk on a blowup mattress in Dave’s office.

  The living arrangements are making my mom a little crazy, and I’m sick of Dave’s fucking voice. Moving out of this house will take off a lot of the stress. I’ve lined up a new job and an apartment. Life will soon be comfortable, and that’s all I want now. To be safe and relaxed with my friends. Helping my sister, niece, and mom is the cherry on the top.

  Since no one visits this house after seven, the knock at the door at ten causes Dave to fly into a bitching mode. I hear him send Desi to check because he’s too lazy to get out of his recliner.

  “There’s a man,” Desi says, peering out of the side window next to the door.

  I nudge the child out of the way and tell her to get ready for bed. Once she runs off, I open the door, coming face-to-face with someone I’ve struggled to avoid for over a year.

  River Majors looks taller than I remember. It’s funny how I always think that when I see him. His blue-green eyes are always more hypnotic too. Either I have a terrible memory, or he just gets better looking.

  Despite the butterflies in my stomach, I don’t jump up and down at the sight of River. Instead, I walk outside and shut the door behind me to prevent Dave from eavesdropping.

  Once we’re alone, I push my glasses back to the bridge of my nose and force myself to meet River’s gaze. There’s something different about his expression tonight. Maybe he’s tired.

  When I stop focusing on how handsome he is, I remember to question why he’d be here right now.

  “Is Ramona okay?”

  My best friend got pregnant with her second son, only months after giving birth to her first. If there was bad news, would River really show up to tell me? Probably not, but I still assume the worst.

  “She’s fine.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  River doesn’t speak. He just
watches me. A year ago, he asked if I was sick of Nashville yet. I’d been home for a visit, and we share friends. Avoiding him completely was impossible.

  That day, I hadn’t known what to say. River wanted to date me, but we’re not the kind of people who easily hook up. I’m an insecure virgin with abandonment issues. He’s a sexy, powerful man who fucks sweet butts and kills bad people. We have nothing in common.

  That’s why I told him I was never coming back to Shasta. I liked my job and living in the city. I shared an apartment with another prep chef. I was happy there. I wasn’t lying exactly, but I wasn’t wholly truthful either. I just wanted River to stop waiting for a fantasy that he’d built in his head about a woman he would never like as much in real life.

  Now, after all this time, River stands in front of me. Though he wears a blank expression, I can’t help feeling he’s come for retribution.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, trying to hide my unease.

  River doesn’t speak, and his silence scares the shit out of me. I reflexively press my fingers against my formerly-busted jaw. Though I don’t believe River will hit me, I’m ready to bail on him and run inside.

  Startling me, River steps forward and then is suddenly on his knees. He wraps his arms around my waist and rests his head against my stomach.

  I’m afraid of him touching me. Those months with a broken face, I grew leery of anyone getting too close. Now the most dangerous man I know is holding me against his powerful body.

  Despite my fear, there’s something submissive about River’s gesture. I doubt he means to intimidate me, but his size automatically does just that. Now on his knees, he seems almost harmless. I’m not fooled, but I do take pity on him. How can I not when he peers up at me wearing a pained expression on his impossibly perfect face?

  My hand cradling my jaw moves to his shoulder. A tentative gesture meant to soothe him. I don’t ask any questions. River’s upset over something. Maybe about me, but, just as likely, a million other problems burden him. No doubt, River’s under a lot of pressure.

  After all, Shasta isn’t a safe place, even for the guy at the top.

  THE KILLER

  Maxine comforts me, stroking my head in the way she would a child’s. There’s nothing sexual about her touch, but I still recognize the same electric heat as the first time we met. I’m afraid to look up at her and find fear in her eyes. I need Maxine to believe the lies. I’m a nice guy. I share no qualities with the men who destroyed her family’s restaurant and stole away her beloved stepfather. I’m her safe and cuddly Mister Right.

  I remain on my knees with my cheek against her stomach. After too long feeling lost, I’m home.

  Until Maxine’s shivering reawakens the common sense part of my brain. She’s wearing only flannel pajamas and slippers with no jacket. The light drizzle must chill her to the bone. I’m letting her get wet and cold, just to make myself feel better.

  Lifting my gaze, I find hers. The look in her eyes promises everything will be okay.

  “I want to help you move,” I babble when they’re the only words I can think to say.

  Maxine’s current weirded-out expression makes sense. I’m acting like a full-blown idiot. However, whether from fear or pity, she nods at my request.

  After finally releasing her from my needy grip, I stand. Maxine watches me for a moment, uncertain about what happens next. I wish I could just take her out somewhere. We could talk like ordinary people. She’d see that I’m more than a killer. I’m a guy with both skills and flaws that don’t relate to spilling blood. I’m grumpy in the morning, and I regularly manspread. I’m just a really handsome, sexy, dangerous man with only the best intentions when it comes to her.

  But there’s nowhere to go. The only places open in Shasta after ten are strip clubs, dive bars, and the clubhouse.

  “I’ll be over on Wednesday when you move,” I say, and Maxine nods again.

  She thinks I’m nuts. I know I am, but Maxine made me this way. Any other woman would have given in to me by now. I mean, chicks swoon at the sight of me. Even her mother—who works at my favorite restaurant, The Barnyard—giggles when I say anything even remotely funny.

  Maxine, though, watches me as if she’s one second from running for safety. That’s the expression she wears as I walk backward to my Harley. I don’t care if I trip and fall on my ass. I refuse to take my eyes off her.

  Once inside the house, she doesn’t shut the door. I wonder if she knows she destroyed a part of my heart by not immediately submitting to my needs. Is that why she watches me as I climb on my hog? Or does she remain on guard because I’m a threat?

  I reembrace the lie that Maxine craves me as much as I do her. Yeah, I see an opening in her heart. I just have to be patient, play this relationship thing smart, and look for ways to prove I’m more than the man she fears.

  Driving home, I soak in a calmness that I haven’t experienced in too long. Just knowing I’ll see Maxine soon—and not from afar like a stalking bitch—leaves me in a great mood. I enter the house to the sounds of “The Stuff” playing in the Victorian’s grand TV room.

  With her long brunette hair covering her face, Shelby sleeps on the couch with her French bulldogs—Hansel and Gretel—at her feet. Her dark-haired brother sits on the other couch, watching the movie while Ramona dozes with her head on a pillow resting in his lap.

  I take a spot in my chair and stretch out my long legs.

  “Why are you smiling, fuck-face?” Shane texts me to avoid speaking and waking his tired lady.

  “I talked to Maxine,” I text back.

  His brown eyes immediately flash with irritation. “Stop stalking her like a lovesick puppy. I’m supposed to look up to you, old man.”

  “She’s letting me help her move.”

  Shaking his head, Shane texts, “You’re making me sad for you.”

  “I need to be in her life. If I can spend time with her, she’ll see how I’m the nicest fucking guy in the fucking world.”

  “Naw, man. Just naw.”

  “I NEED WHAT I FUCKING NEED!!!!!!” I text.

  Shane chuckles enough to wake Ramona. Her dark eyes flutter open and focus up at him. Then she gives him that smile. The one that says he’s her guy and just seeing him—even after seeing him not that fucking long ago—is still a beautiful sight.

  Their love makes me sick with envy. If I hadn’t met Maxine, I’d still be fucking club sluts and mocking Shane for being whipped. I’d suffer no longing or emptiness.

  But when I see them now, I’m reminded that I couldn’t make shit happen with Maxine like Shane did with Ramona. Did I not stalk her with enough intensity to make her submit? Well, of course not. She lived in a different state. Though I had people keeping tabs on Maxine, I couldn’t protect her from that asshole chef. I’ll kill him myself soon. I’m waiting for the heat to die down, and people to forget about his little scandal. Then he’ll disappear into a shallow hole somewhere remote.

  Shane and a round-bellied Ramona head upstairs to get in a quickie before a decent night’s rest. Iggy will be up around two for a bottle and then back up at eight. They only stuck around downstairs this long because of Shelby. In fact, as they walk past the couch where she sleeps, both of them run their fingers tenderly over her arm.

  My life would be so much easier if I could have fallen in love with Shelby Campbell. She and I make sense. We both grew up in this world. She is essentially a member of the Reapers, even wearing our vest at times. I trust her with my life and my secrets. Her advice is valued over nearly anyone’s. Shelby is beautiful, funny, loyal, and shares the same tastes as me.

  Unfortunately, I look at her and see my sister. We’ve been friends for too long, and something is missing between us. Not just for me, but for Shelby too. She often announces how the thought of kissing me makes her dry heave.

  I wonder if Maxine would puke if I kissed her. Sometimes, she looks so nervous around me that I wouldn’t be surprised if she barfed in my face. In the last year, we’ve been in the same place a few times. Never did she seem happy about that fact.

  Even tonight, she never smiled. But she did comfort me rather than push me off her. That’s something, right? Maybe not enough, though.