Page 53 of Reaper
Or maybe that’s just me projecting. But if it’s true and they are dealing with it better than me, that has me fucking jealous and pissed at the fact that I’mstillfucked in the head. I’m going out of my God damn mind with everything I’m struggling with.
Shaking my head, my mind goes back to Mae.
Lately, I’ve noticed that something is different about her, and I’m not talking about the torture she’s endured. Thor told me that when he first met Mae, she was shy, timid, and jumpy. And I don’t fucking blame her in the least after learning her history. To be honest, I think it’s Timber’s strength that’s causing Mae to come out of her shell. That and having a new found family that she can lean on when she needs to.
I just hope that she was telling me the truth earlier. That she really is okay with getting her hands bloody.
Then again, maybe Timber’s right.
Before, she seemed like she was a ray of pure sunshine, but even with all that sunshine, she still has a bit of darkness in her.
Or she found it.
Either way, it’s something she’ll need to live the life of an Old Lady.
Leaning down, I unlock my desk and dig out my black journal. The damn thing is more than half-way full right now. Something I’m immensely ashamed of because I’ve been struggling with a lot of things ever since the kidnapping.
At first, things were very dark. Thoughts of what I wanted to do to Fang, Travis, and Sean filled my head constantly and had me on edge. I kept thinking that we or the feds missed some of the Black Plague members and they’d come after us. I had wanted them to pay so badly for what they did to Levi and me, but mostly for Levi.
After we’d taken care of them, the only things that kept my mind off still wanting to torture them, even after their death, wastalking to Lark and when my stitches and wounds had healed enough, practicing knife throwing with Levi, Sasha, and Alexei.
When I was finally given the okay to travel, I’d headed straight to Lark’s. I needed to put my eyes on her, even though I was hesitant about how she’d react to seeing me in person. Part of the reason why I had to stay in the hospital longer was because the large cut on my face, a couple cuts on my neck and three cuts on my chest had become infected. The doctor and nurses had to reopen the wounds, flush out the infections and restitch them closed. As a result, they scarred worse than what they would have if they hadn’t gotten infected. Out of all of them, the one on my face, of course, scarred the worst.
However, I shouldn’t have been worried. She didn’t look at me any differently, much like I don’t look at her scars any differently.
It was also good to see how everything had turned out after their grand reopening of the Great Bear Supper Club and Tavern since I’d unfortunately missed them by being in Forest Creek.
They didn’t change much with the supper club, but the tavern... I think the tavern was a brilliant idea and will bring in a lot of customers for them. In reality, it’s more like a bar than a tavern. It’s not grungy like a dive bar dump but it’s also not as classy as one that requires a certain dress code. Honestly, I foresee me and the club spending a lot of time in the tavern. They even have a stage area and a small dance floor where they’ll have live bands or a DJ on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights.
They’ve also made good progress on their house as well. The outside is completely finished, and the inside is mostly finished. Slowly but surely, Lark is putting the Thompson stamp on their house, just like she wanted to.
In the beginning, they hired people to get everything built; the plumbing installed as well as the showers, toilets, and the cheapest pedestal sinks they could find. Lark told me they weregoing to install vanities later when the rooms were finished. She wanted to make the vanities herself, but knew it would take time, so they opted to use simple pedestal sinks for the time being. The walls were sheet rocked and sanded, hardwood floors and trim were installed, and the walls and ceilings were painted.
That was as far as she let them go.
The rest, she wanted to do herself and Emma and Lottie gave her full reign to do what she wanted to do.
Only once did Lark ask me and a few of the guys for help. While her recovery is going very well, she’s still rebuilding her strength and wasn’t able to safely maneuver the large pieces of wood that she’d ordered to make the cabinet bases for the kitchen and the bathrooms. That’s where we stepped in and got everything cut for her. So far, she’s made, carved, and installed the cabinet bases in the kitchen and two of the bathrooms in their new house. Their remodel is an almost perfect replica of their old house, with two exceptions.
The woodcarving and brewing rooms are no longer in the house.
Lark had separate outbuildings made for each of them, though they aren’t finished yet. She had tunnels dug that connect the three buildings as a precaution. Both for if the arsonist strikes again so that there’s more than one escape route and for the heavy snow we can sometimes end up getting with being this far north in Wisconsin. Each tunnel also has thick fire doors at each entrance to prevent a fire, if there’s ever another one, from spreading to other areas.
Seeing everything Lark’s been able to do has me thinking back to the classes I took in college years ago and of the books I’ve since read. Only my brothers know that I’m a closet nerd. Mythology was my favorite class, and Lark is definitely giving off vibes similar to the Egyptian goddess, Neith.
Neith is one of their ancient Goddesses. The Goddess of creation, wisdom, weaving, and war. She is often depicted holding a bow and arrow and was believed to have been a fierce protector of her people. Something that Lark definitely has in common with Neith. I’ve seen Lark go up against men larger and stronger than her because of what they’d done or said to someone she knew. Or they were being a hassle in the supper club. She’s a force to be reckoned with when she gets all riled up.
Then there’s the bows she said she’d made. That also lines up with the texts about Neith. It’s said that Neith also made weapons for her warriors and would watch over the bodies of those that had fallen.
Sighing, I refocus. I grip my black journal tighter as I stare down at it and mentally flip through everything that I’ve written in it.
My head is still pretty fucked up, and unfortunately, even though Lark accepts me for who I am and what I look like, I still struggle with my scars and how people have treated me. I shouldn’t care or let it get to me, but it’s fucking hard when their opinions are constantly thrown in my face.
Before, people always gave me a wide berth because of the dangerous aura I always give off and being the President of a motorcycle club. Or at least, that’s how Julia, my sister, always described it before she practically shut me out of her life.
But now, people take one look at me and either quickly look away or they turn and run away.
Even people that knew me beforehand treat me differently now.
