Page 62 of Property of Scythe
Chapter 20 Lottie
It’s almost October. There’s a chill in the air that combines with all the fall scents that I adore, like pumpkin, spices, and cranberries. Outside the classroom windows, I watch the falling leaves in bright colors of red, orange, and purple. The kids are painting with pinecones today, making gifts for the holidays, and I love their creations. When the final bell rings, I usher them to clean up and get ready to go home.
Mila waits for me as she doodles with markers, making me another beautiful picture to hang up on the fridge at home. Some days Scythe picks us up, others he meets us at the house or The Barn. Today, he’s standing at the door with Emma when I look up from the desk where I’m organizing papers.
“We got a hot date, baby,” he informs me as Emma helps Mila with her backpack. “We’ve got the evening to ourselves.”
“Nice,” I reply as I tug him closer, popping a kiss on his whiskered cheek. “Give me a few minutes.”
He nods as I finish up, waiting until all the parents and children are gone. Once we’re alone, he pulls me in for a kiss. It makes me weak in the knees, and he winks as we part as ifhe knows.
“I’m taking you for a ride. Grab your jacket.”
These are my favorite impromptu moments when we ride his Harley and steal a few minutes alone without distraction. When I can focus on him and he’s not torn by club duties. Our lives are busy, but we’re learning how to make time with one another a priority. It’s how we’re going to last when life throws shit at us and things get hard.
We ride through town and park outside one of the cornfields that borders the edge, marking the territory of the Kings and the land of the scarecrows. It’s almost funny to think of it that way, but this land is cursed, and it’s also blessed.
I tighten my hold around Scythe’s waist, and he lowers his hand to squeeze my thigh. I know he’s not entirely human, but he’s all the man I need. His club protects this town, and we’re all lucky these men shoulder the burden when this town is threatened. It gives me peace to know Scythe and the others are out there.
Scythe parks the bike and shuts down the engine. We remove our helmets, and he hangs them from the handlebars. We won’t be gone long. Probably just enough time to watch the sunset and maybe a quickie under the canopy of weeping willows. The forest is close and nearly whispers with the burden of its secrets, but it’ll never tell.
“The coroner finally identified the remains from the severed body parts,” he tells me as his fingers thread through mine. “It’s a guy from Columbus. Believe it or not, he’s a relative of Johnathon Allen.”
Wow. Johnathon Allen is the killer Scythe defeated. We learned his name once Boomer entered his DNA into the national database. He’d been wanted for his connection to numerous crimes and a killing spree in Pennsylvania over five years earlier.
“He killed a family member?”
“Yeah, his nephew.”
“That’s awful.”
“I know,” he agrees. “I’m still trying to figure out why he came to Raven’s Crest.”
“Or why he wanted to mess with you and the club.”
“There doesn’t seem to be a connection,” Scythe complains. “Why would he want to come here? The crowds? The Halloween vibe?”
“Maybe.” I shrug. I really don’t know.
“But you were his target, too. He must have had a vendetta against me and the Kings.”
I stop and lift my hand, gliding my fingers over his jaw. “You got him, Scythe. You proved no one fucks with the Kings.”
Scythe grins. “Yeah, I did.”
“Isn’t that what you do? Take out the bad guys?” I’m teasing, but it’s also true.
“We do. Our bloodlines were specifically chosen.”
“But also cursed? How?”
We’ve danced around the topic but not fully discussed it. It’s been nearly a week since Scythe appeared as a scarecrow and saved my life, not to mention the town.
“We’re the descendants of powerful men who founded this town and settled in Ohio after the Salem Witch Trials.”
“Witches?”
“Yeah, baby. The real Salem witches. The relatives of those who were hanged and murdered traveled to find new land without fear of prosecution and paranoia and settled in Ohio. They swore never to fall victim again to the religious fanaticism that killed so many.”
