Reaper's Stand (Reapers MC, #4)(40)

“I really have to go now.”

“I’ll see you on Thursday,” he said. “Let me know what time to expect you and I’ll try to have clothes on . . . Unless you change your mind?”

I didn’t bother responding as I marched out of the kitchen, and his laugh followed me through the door.

Someday I’d be the one making him uncomfortable, I decided. I wasn’t sure when or how, but I looked forward to it. Seemed only fair, all things considered.





CHAPTER SEVEN




My phone buzzed as I dumped out the bucket of gray mop water. It was nine the next morning, and my crew had one more hour to finish cleaning the strip club. Hayes had kept his promise, and according to Gage—the big Reaper who managed the place—we would be getting the contract long term if he liked what he saw.

I was there to make damned sure he liked what he saw.

That meant scrubbing every inch of the place. Not that we’d have to go that far every time we came, but I wanted to start things off right. I pulled out the phone, startled to see it was Jess. Wow . . . Getting up her up before noon practically took an act of God.


JESSICA: Hey Loni. How are you

ME: Fine. Working, tho. Whats up?

JESSICA: Do you have time for a phone call? I want to talk to. Things arent so good here

I frowned, my throat tightening.


ME: Just a sec

Setting down the bucket, I walked out of the janitorial closet and across the empty club floor. In the distance I heard the whine of the vacuum as my crew worked their way through the VIP rooms in the back. Gage sat at one of the tables, looking up as I passed with a question on his face.

“Just a quick phone call,” I told him, pushing out the front door and into the parking lot.

The phone rang three times before Jessica picked up.

“Loni?”

“Hey, baby, what’s wrong? Do you need to see the doctor? You left without your insurance card, but I can send all the information right now if you need it.”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” she said quickly, and I felt myself unclench a little. “I had a little fever last night, but I think it’s just the flu. I’ve been coughing.”

“Be careful,” I warned her, as if she needed the reminder. She knew darned well—damned well—not to play around with infection. The last time she’d wound up in the ICU for three days on an antibiotic drip, with a surgical follow-up just for fun.

“I am,” she replied hesitantly.

“What is it?” I asked, careful to keep my voice neutral. “You can tell me.”

“I think you might’ve been right about Mom,” she said quietly. “Last night they had a big party. A lot of guys came over and they weren’t very nice.”

“Not nice in what way?”

“Two of them cornered me in the guest house,” she whispered. “I’m not exactly a virgin, but this was different, Loni. I’ve never had anyone treat me like that. They didn’t do too much, but only because I ran off and locked myself in a closet. It was horrible.”

She fell silent. I wanted to demand more information but sensed she was about three seconds away from falling apart completely.

At least she’d called me.

“Do you want to come home?” I asked, forcing my voice to stay calm and steady. “I know we’ve had our differences, but you’ll be safe here. Maybe we can figure out a way for you to live on your own, where you can be independent and safe at the same time.”

She gave a snuffling sob, and I realized she was crying.

“I’m so sorry, Loni,” she whispered. “I didn’t want to believe you. I was really stupid.”

“Let’s not worry about that right now. I can fly down there this afternoon, pick you up, and bring you home.”


“You don’t need to do that,” she said. “But if you buy me a ticket home, I’ll find a way to pay you back. I can get a cab to the airport, I still have a little cash. But not until tomorrow. Mom said she wanted me to go out with her today, shopping or something. She’s going on a trip, I guess. I’d rather leave when she’s not around. I don’t think I can handle a big fight with her—she’s not going to like it. She’s been acting really strange.”

I desperately wanted to leap into full rescue mode but forced myself to back off. Just calling me for help was huge—Jessica didn’t need any more pressure. God, I hated this. All of it.

“Okay. I’ll get you a flight home tomorrow, first thing?”

“Maybe around noon?” she asked quietly. “That would be better. She’ll be gone by then. There are all these guys around here . . . Some of them have guns, Loni. I think her boyfriend might be a drug dealer or something. He’s really rich, but I can’t figure out how he earns his money.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

“Entirely possible,” I said. “She’s never had the best taste in men. Don’t go asking questions, all right? You don’t want to do anything to catch attention from people like that.”

“Are you mad at me?”

How to answer a question like that?

“I’m more worried about you,” I said finally. “I want you to be safe and happy. You didn’t pick the best way to accomplish that, but I’m incredibly thankful you’re all right. Let’s leave it at that, okay?”