Reaper's Property(20)

“Um, that sounds good,” I said. “Does Jeff know?”

He shook his head.

“No, I just wanted to check on you,” he said. “Is he around?”

I shook my head.

“He went to the casino with some friends, said he might crash at Krissy’s tonight.”

Horse’s face didn’t change, but I felt a distinct chill. Well, fair enough. I didn’t like Jeff going to the casino either. He must have work for them he hadn’t finished yet. Jeff had been going downhill fast the past few weeks, and I couldn’t seem to do anything to halt it or help him.

“Don’t let that stop you,” I added quickly. “You guys are welcome to stay here, especially if you’re bringing your own food.”

I meant it too. Even though he’d scared the hell out of me that unforgettable morning, I felt safe around him, especially now. When I’d been hurt, he protected me. I knew he’d done something nasty to Gary. I supposed I should be upset about that, because violence never solves anything. But Gary deserved whatever he got and then some.

“You want anything to drink?” Horse asked, taking in the empty plastic cup sitting next to me on a plastic milk crate. I smiled at him, trying not to wince as it pulled at my split lip.

“Iced tea?”

“You got it,” he said, snagging my cup and carrying it inside. He came back out with a second one for himself. We sat companionably for the rest of the afternoon, talking about all kinds of things. I learned he’d grown up in a biker family and his father had been one of the first Reapers. His sister was married to Bam Bam. When I’d first met them, the MC had seemed like a gang of thugs, but the way Horse described it was more like a family. A crazy, loud family that fought a lot and occasionally went to jail, but still a family.

That I could understand—after all, my mama was more than a little crazy and sitting in the county jail as we spoke. I still loved her to pieces.

I told him about the brochures I had in my bedroom from the community college in the Tri-Cities. They had a culinary arts program, and the people at the Women’s Center had encouraged me to look into going back to school.

“It’s a good idea,” he said. “I know you like the daycare, but that’s not a long-term thing unless you decide to open a center yourself.”

I shook my head, laughing.

“No way,” I said. “The kids are fun, but I can’t imagine doing that for the rest of my life. Too many diapers.”

“So you don’t want kids of your own? Had enough diapers?”

I shrugged.

“Well, I don’t want to be a single mom, that’s for sure,” I replied. “My mom’s in jail right now for assault with a deadly weapon, which was pretty stupid of her, I admit. But she took good care of us growing up. She worked her ass off before she blew out her back and started drinking. Chronic pain, you know? But she never would have tried to run over that cop if she’d stuck it out in the anger management program. I’m still not sure why she went after the second guy, he’s not the one who wrote the parking ticket…”

Horse burst out laughing, biting it back quick.

I shook my head, narrowing my eyes. He wouldn’t meet my eye, taking a quick drink of his tea. Then I reached over and poked his side and another laugh escaped, which he tried to hide with a cough. I decided to let him off the hook.

“It’s okay,” I said with a smile. “Even Mom laughed when she finally calmed down, and thankfully she never came close to actually hitting them. It wasn’t her finest moment, that’s for sure. She’s got another four months ahead of her though, which isn’t nearly as funny.”

We fell silent for a few minutes. Then he spoke again.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Oh, the kids,” I looked up at the clouds. One of them looked kind of like my mom holding a cigarette. I smiled. “Actually, I think I’d like kids. But not by myself and not if I can’t stay home with them. Jeff and I had to be on our own way too much, and while I don’t blame Mom for that, I want something better for my own family.”

I looked over to find him staring at me intently. I blushed, though I couldn’t say why.

“What about you?”

“I want kids,” he said. “My mom would kill me if I didn’t give her at least a couple of grandbabies. Never had an old lady though, not a keeper at least. Kinda hard to have one without the other.”

“That’s the truth,” I replied, feeling more uncomfortable by the minute. “Tell me something. What’s with the ‘old lady’ thing? Seems like a nasty thing to call someone you care about.”