Reaper's Property (Reapers MC, #1)(60)

I took her place, pulling down my own jeans and peeing. She made a good point. I decided to tell her that.

“You make a good point,” I said, standing back up. I swayed again, and she laughed, catching me.

“Wow, I think you ate too much jello.”

She helped me over to the sink. I washed my hands and we both took a few minutes to check out our hair and makeup. I thought we looked pretty good—no wonder those guys wanted to buy us drinks. I’d buy us drinks if I was a guy.

“So who would your dad let you date?”

“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m not sure anyone is good enough. He’d like me to be with someone in the club though. That way I’ll never move away from him.”

“Aw, that’s kind of sweet,” I said. “I mean, at least your dad cares about you. I hardly even remember mine.”

She shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she said. “I guess I wouldn’t trade him. Mom was pretty great too. I miss her.”

“What happened to her?” I asked, and then bit my lip. The booze had apparently dissolved the filter between my brain and my mouth.

“Breast cancer,” she said, clearly not wanting to talk about it. “Long time ago. Let’s get shots.”

“Sounds good,” I replied, following her out the door. Painter stood outside, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, looking bored. I grabbed Em’s arm and pulled her into me.

“Why does he have to be here?” I stage-whispered. “Are they afraid I’ll run away or something?”

“Oh it’s not personal. They send someone with us every time we go out,” she said, shrugging. “Usually a prospect, but every once in a while Ruger tags along. He’s fun. They don’t want anyone bothering us. That way we can party and they know we’re safe. It’s no big deal, at least not for you because you already have a man. For me, it sucks.”

“So all old ladies get watched all the time?” I asked. “Isn’t that creepy?”

She laughed and shrugged.

“Mostly just when we go out at night,” she said. “It’s a security thing. There are a lot of clubs and not all of them are friends to the Reapers. This is their way of making sure nobody hassles us. Knowing we have a sober ride home. It’s great, unless you’re looking to lose your virginity.”

I giggled and she glared at me, which made me giggle more as we headed back out onto the main floor. Then I stopped, because a tall man wearing Reaper leathers suddenly blocked my path. I looked up, trying to focus. Max.

“Hey, Max,” said Em. “What are you doing here?”

“Just felt like getting a drink,” he said, looking us over with a gleam of approval in his expression. We looked good and Max noticed. Nice. “Talked to Painter, heard you ladies were here. Thought I’d offer to buy a round. You look great tonight.”

“You’re too sweet,” she replied, smiling up at him flirtatiously. He smiled back, and I wondered if there might be a little more going on with Max and Em than I realized. Painter came up next to us, standing tall as he and Max shared a look. Then Painter shook his head and stepped back, and he didn’t look happy about it.

That was interesting.

Max followed us back to the table, where Maggs put him in his place, telling him to buy us drinks and stay out of our way, “because it’s laaadddieess niiighhttt!” Everyone howled with approval as he grinned and took orders, bringing back a round of shots. Despite my earlier conviction that I needed more booze, looking at the little cup of vodka made me feel sick so I pulled out my phone to see what time it was. Almost two. Horse had texted about four hours ago.

Going to the Line with the guys. Don’t wait up.

The Line. Why did that sound familiar? My brain was all fogged up.

“What’s the Line?” I asked Cookie, who sat next to me. She’d put on a leather vest before coming into the bar, and her patches said “Property of Bagger, Reapers MC”. The whole property thing still made me uncomfortable but she seemed happy enough wearing it. And Cookie wasn’t exactly oppressed. I’d figured that out by chatting between the jello shots she poured down my throat. She was way too busy running her coffee shop and taking care of her and Bagger’s three-year-old daughter to be oppressed.

“Oh that’s the club’s titty bar,” she said. “Makes a fortune, although those strippers can be such sluts. But some of them are okay. I always tell Bagger I’m gonna start working there while he’s deployed and it pisses him off. I love doing that,” she laughed.

“What are you talking about?” yelled Darcy from across the table.

“The Line!” Cookie yelled back. Darcy got a huge grin on her face.

“We should go there!”

“What?” I asked, startled. Cookie clapped her hands.

“Oh that’s a great idea!” she said. “We can play on one of the poles. I need pictures for Bagger!”

“Are you serious? Why would we go there?” I demanded, mystified.

“Well, for one thing, if the guys are at the Line, it’s fun to show up without warning,” said Darcy, winking at me. “Scare ’em straight, you know? Plus it’s kind of interesting to watch the dancers. Some of them are really good, I’ve learned some excellent tricks from them. Boonie can testify to that.”