Page 16 of Property of Scythe
For now, I’ve got work to do.
PHANTOM IS WAITINGfor me as I pull up to our clubhouse, The Barn. It’s not a metaphor. My grandfather bought this land and renovated the old barn on the property before I was born. It’s been expanded over the years, and now it sits in a horseshoe shape with the bar in the center. It’s the first thing you see as you walk inside the entrance.
“Mornin’,” I say, tapping a pack of smokes that I pull from my cut. I select a Marlboro Red and light the end, snatching my nicotine fix since I haven’t had a smoke yet. Some days I’ll go through a pack. Others, I only indulge in a few a day. It depends on how busy I am and how much time I spend with Mila.
“Mornin’, Pres. Mountain and Voodoo checked in. Uneventful ride so far.”
“Good to know.” Mountain also sent me a text, but with Mila’s first day, he guessed I’d be distracted. He didn’t know the half of it. “Met Mila’s teacher before I rode over.”
“Yeah? She like her?”
“Yeah.” I inhale, immediately seeing a vision of Lottie Bishop in her plaid dress, dropping to her knees. Goddamn. That’s a sight I want to see again when my daughter’s not around. “She’s the girl from my visions.”
Phantom chuckles. “No shit? Is she pretty?”
I stare him down, making a point. “No one touches her or fucks with her. Period.”
Phantom tilts his head back and guffaws. “Fucking hell, Scythe. You wanna fuck Mila’s new teacher?”
I don’t mind that Mountain and Phantom don’t always call me president. They do it when it counts, like whenever I issue an order or there are other members around. But the three of us grew up in this town and went to the same schools. We’re bonded by more than the club. Hence, the reason I chose them for my V.P. and Sergeant at Arms.
“She’s mine,” I growl, and it shocks me as much as it does Phantom. I nearly jolt when the words pass my lips.
He holds up his palms, grinning like a goddamn fool. “Alright. I got you, Pres.”
I snort. “This is fucked up.”
“It’s the visions, huh?”
It always is. They mess with my head sometimes. “Yeah. This is different. There’s something about her. She’s like a magnet I can’t resist.” I spear a hand through my hair before I toss my cigarette to the ground and stomp the cinders with my boot. “She’s in danger. I think she’s runnin’ from someone.”
“Shit. That is fucked. What are you gonna do?”
“For now? Nothing.”
“But we watch her,” he guesses.
“I fucking watch her,” I clarify.
His smirk is back. “Right.” He clears his throat. “What’s her name? You know, in case you need backup or some shit.”
I flip him off. “Lottie Bishop.”
“Pretty name. I wonder if she’s related to the Salem Bishops?”
I shrug. I’m done talking about Lottie for now.
Phantom picks up on my mood. He ticks his chin toward the cornfields that seem to stretch far beyond the horizon. “Cornfields are high. It’s time to cut the maze.”
“We’ll do it next week in time to open up after Labor Day.”
That’s when the tourist season begins for us. With all hands on deck, we’ll have it ready to go in about five days.
The Chills ‘N’ Thrills Maze is one of the most popular attractions, and since we own the land, leasing a large portion of it for harvesting, we keep the cornfields high through the end of the season. The tourists love the corn maze and haunted hayrides and expect these spooky attractions when they visit Raven’s Crest. We employ folks in the town as well as working shifts to ensure that shit runs smoothly.
It’s a busy twelve weeks from Labor Day to Thanksgiving.
“You want us to get to work on the props for the haunted hayride?”
