Page 54 of Reaper
Their hands shake when they are around me, like they are on edge. I swear they must think I’ll lash out at them or hurt them or something. Just because a fucking asshole took a knife to my body, they think I’ve changed.
I guess, in a way, I have. But not how they’re thinking.
I’m more reclusive now. I barely go out, and if I do, it’s to either see Lark or go to the grocery store, and even then, I usually end up sending one of the Prospects to get my groceries. Being back in Forest Creek so much lately has forced me to not be as reclusive, but the urge is still there.
My mind wanders back to when I went into Gram’s and Gramp’s grocery store. It was the first time I went anywhere in Junction Creek other than Lark’s house after the kidnapping.
As I park my truck and get out, I eye Gram’s and Gramp’s grocery store warily. I have no idea how people are going to react to me now that that asshole has carved me up like a fucking pumpkin on Halloween. I’ve never cared what people thought of me before, but now, for some reason, their opinions of me matter to a certain degree.
Exhaling, I get out and head inside.
Igor needs food—I’ve waited as long as I can. Not to mention I need to get stuff for a few meals I plan to make this week. I can’t keep sending a Prospect to get my shit. Well, I can, but I also know I need to do this.
Grabbing a metal cart, I steer it toward the fruit and produce section. I’m planning to make a stir-fry with rice tonight and later this week, a stew. As I grab my items, I keep my eyes down, not looking directly at anyone. However, out of the corner of my eye, I can’t help but catch the reaction of the nearest woman as I grab a couple bunches of scallions and put them in a bag.
Her eyes widen when she looks up at me and as her mouth drops in horror, the head of broccoli that she was holding falls to the floor. She grabs her cart and damn near runs out of sight and down another aisle. Her hasty retreat has the other two women nearby looking up and they mimic the first lady’s reaction as they swiftly gather their things and head down another aisle.
However, it’s the third woman’s actions that hits me so hard it damn near feels like I’ve been sucker punched. The woman reaches up and shields her daughter’s face away from me and orders her not to look at me as she briskly walks away.
I stare after her, stunned, and the ache that’s been in my chest ever since the kidnapping gets worse.
I know I’m an intimidating guy at six-foot-three inches tall, muscular but not body builder muscular and tattooed. Add to that, I’m the President of an MC. But the people in this town know we aren’t dangerous.
Well, at least as long as they abide by the laws and don’t dip their fingers into trafficking people, running drugs, or abusing others. If they do, then they’ll have us coming down on them in full force.
We’ve done a lot of shit to help those that need it, not only in Junction Creek but also the surrounding towns. Poker runs, charity drives, and donations just to name a few.
Gritting my teeth, I do my best to push their reactions to the back of my mind. Determination flows through me and I harden my heart to avoid the inevitable pain.
Unfortunately, by hardening my heart, I unintentionally started distancing myself from my light in the darkness.
Lark.
But that Goddamn fear still has a hold on my mind. And so far, I haven’t been able to shake it.
Sighing again, I grip my journal tightly in my hands before relocking the drawer and walk out into the hallway, locking my office door on the way out. I give a chin lift to a few of the guys and head out back.
Hopefully, I haven’t stalled for too long, and Mae hasn’t been waiting on me.
I did mean what I said to her. I want to get to know her. I’ve heard about her past, but not much abouther. What she likes, doesn’t like, shit like that.
Striding out the back door, my shoulders sag slightly in relief that Mae isn’t back yet. Setting my journal down on a bench, I stalk over to the wood pile and grab a stack of logs before going back and getting a fire starter and matches.
After the fire’s lit, I sit back, staring at the flames. I’ve always found it calming to stare into the fire, and tonight is no different.
I’m not sure how long I sit there before I hear the golf cart and Mae’s soft footsteps approaching. She sits down on the bench to the right of mine and without a word opens her journal and starts tearing up the first page. She rolls the pieces into little balls and tosses them into the fire.
Silently, I do the same and a part of me wishes that, as the pages burn, that my issues would turn to ash with them.
Chapter 23
Reaper
Forawhile,wedon’t say anything as we tear the first few pages up into little balls and toss them into the fire.
Clearing my throat, I half dread asking this question, but I need to know. “If you know about the journals, I’m going to guess that Half-pint told you her story?”
After a moment, Mae gives a little nod. “Yesterday she told me, and Sasha gave me the journals and pens.” She pauses, swallowing thickly as a myriad of emotions flit across her face. “I’m sorry that you both went through that. For what they did to both of you. They didn’t tell me everything that was done to you. Just that your scars are worse than Levi’s.”
