Reaper
2 days before the Wedding…
Laying on my bed with my son, I smiled as he bunched up his face chewing on his little fist. He was hungry and because he was like me, he didn’t like waiting. I didn’t blame him. His momma was in the shower and I didn’t have the equipment he needed. “Trust me, little man. I want those big tits too.”
God, I still couldn’t believe he was mine. Because of my past, I never gave any thought to having kids. It was just something I thought was never in the cards for me. Then again, the nightmare I lived with was enough to stop me from ever procreating again. I hated the idea that there was a kid that belonged to me out there in this fucked up world without me to protect him or her. But what could a fifteen-year-old boy do?
Nothing, except live with the nightmare.
When Remi told me she was pregnant, I damn near lost my shit. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to have a kid with her. Part of me did. The fear of this child being taken away from me again scared the crap out of me. No one knew about my past, which was on me, so no one knew why I had difficulty accepting that I would be a father again. Over time, it was Remi who convinced me that everything would be okay. She was all for the pregnancy, claiming it was a show of our love and commitment to each other. Sounded like bullshit to me, but she never steered me wrong before, so I went with it.
Then I damn near lost her during the birth.
I thought I knew fear before but seeing her dying right before my eyes brought me to my knees. Every fear I imagined came to life for those few minutes as I railed against everyone. The clubhouse thought I was just distraught and scared, but it was more than that. If Remi had died during labor, I knew I would have killed every mother fucker around me and taken my own life. Life was not worth living if she wasn’t with me.
It took me a few days to calm the demon raging inside me after that horrible day. Even though I held my son in my arms, I couldn’t allow myself to get attached until Remi woke up and I saw her beautiful blue eyes. She was my savior, peace, and angel, keeping me from going off the deep end. I damn near wept when she woke a few days later and smiled at me. Only then did I allow myself to feel something for my son.
Now, I can’t imagine my life without him. He’s perfect. Remi and I created this beautiful creature. I know that boys didn’t generally like being called beautiful, but damn did I make a good-looking kid. He was the spitting image of me. The only thing he inherited from his mother was her beautiful blue eyes. My boy was going to kick ass and break hearts everywhere he went. All I have to do was ensure he lived long enough to do just that. Rolling over onto my back, I sighed, looking up at the ceiling.
Fuck me.
This plan St. James came up with was too fucking easy. The only fucking problem I had was I didn’t trust him. The man was a spook. He had his own agenda. He never gave anything away.
Though his plan was solid, it wouldn’t solve the fucking problem. St. James assured me he would move heaven and earth to find my missing kid. If anyone could do it, it would be him. That much I knew but going along with St. James’s plan was like putting a band-aid on an amputated leg. St. James wanted me to go through with the wedding, using the guise of merriment to get everyone to safety. He wanted everyone to live to fight another day. Which meant I would be moving everyone to his fucking island for an indefinite stay. While most of the brothers weren’t completely sold on the idea, it was better than dying in a hail of gunfire. Add that Massacre said that his cousin, Giovanni Valentinetti, was on board with the plan. It seemed that everything was wrapped up nicely.
Too easy, right?
Wrong.
In my life, I knew that anything too easy was wrong. Nothing came easy to me. Nothing. Not even life.
I guess running with my tail between my legs wasn’t so bad. At least I would be alive. Fuck, who knows. Maybe I would like living on a fucking island in the middle of nowhere. I could easily get behind seeing Remi in a bikini for the rest of our lives.
Fuck. I couldn’t do that to her. She’d kill me out of pure spite if she couldn’t get her hair and nails done weekly.
“What are you thinking?”
“Huh?” I said, turning to find my woman standing beside the bed in only a towel as she dried her hair. God, I was so fucking thankful those horrible wigs were gone. After we rescued her in Louisiana, that mother fucker who took her shaved her bald after doing such horrible atrocities to her that still angered me to this day. When I brought her home, I didn’t think she would ever be the same again, especially with what was done physically to her. It was my sister Mia who helped Remi gain some semblance of her old self again. Even if that meant she wore wigs until her hair grew back. Her hair still wasn’t as long as it was, but it was getting there.
Smiling up at her, I asked. “How was the shower?”
“Lonely,” she replied, then added. “Answer my question.”
“What question?”
“Reaper, I know that look. What are you planning?”
“Nothing. Just thinking about Jesse and you on the beach.”
“He’s too little for the beach, so forget about it. Besides, I have too much to do today. That bitch of a wedding planner is coming by today to ensure the place is cleaned and the tables and chairs are set up. I’m going to need you to get some of the boys to help with the set up.”
Smiling down at my son, I said, “I can do that.”
“Are you sure about going through with this wedding? You know I would be just as happy going to the justice of the peace.”
“What?” I asked, looking up at her. “I thought you wanted this wedding.”
“No, I wanted to marry you. I don’t need this grand mess.”