Hey, guys! JTPR has been added to Wattpad Paid's "Mafia and a Love of Crime" reading list! There are a lot more sinfully criminal stories for you to check out, and you can find the reading list on the @PaidStories profile.
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"Why do you call him that? Ripper?" asked Maya.
"Because when Jake was a new recruit, he slashed the face of a rival MC's President. Ripped it to shreds with some kinda shank," Ghost replied, sounding like he was taking a joyful trip down memory lane. "And do you know why?"
"Why?" she breathed.
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"Finally legal, huh, Jakey boy?" Wooly chuckled loudly, wiping a beer spill on the bar countertop. "What can I get ya? The usual?"
"You're hilarious," I muttered, glancing over my shoulder at the sound of glass breaking, "but yeah."
He nodded, moving with shaky movements to grab me a cold beer. Wooly was probably pushing a hundred and had been serving me beer at The Wreck since I had one chin hair. I could only get a drink when he was working because the other fuckers were too scared of Reaper to serve me. But Wooly? He was old and faithful, like a well-kept Corvette. Loved the old bag of bones.
"Happy birthday, kid," he said, setting the bottle down in front of me.
"Thanks, Wool." I took a long, grateful gulp. "Reaper around?"
Wooly shook his head, looking regretful. "Weren't expecting you until tomorrow. Think he's still out on club business."
"Yeah. Of course."
It wasn't like I even wanted to spend time with my old man on my birthday, but still, would it have killed the asshole to stick around for his eldest son's twenty-first? Probably. What would he have made me done to mark such a milestone? Probably eat someone.
Ma, on the other hand, had baked me a cake and made me feel like I was a kid again. She'd slipped me a hundred and told me to go out and have fun with my friends. My queen. It wasn't her fault that everyone was busy, or just wasn't answering my calls.
I was two beers in when Janine, Wooly's granddaughter, took over from him. I liked her. She could hold her own when it came to the drunk assholes that frequently hit on her night in and night out. I couldn't blame them. Janine was somewhere in her late twenties and looked like a younger Salma Hayek. A younger, inked-up Salma.
"Hey, birthday boy," she said with a grin. "What the hell are you doing in this dump?"
"You know I can't stay away from you," I told her, taking a sip of my beer.
She rolled her eyes at me. "You're such a charmer, Jake. Well, since you're here, I need you to bring in some kegs from out back."
"Keg delivery on a Tuesday?" I raised a brow, but I was already on my feet.
Janine shrugged. "We ran out. What can I say? Folks around here love to drink."
Nice, I thought as I followed her to the back of the bar. Working on my birthday.
It was sorta poetic, to be honest. This was my fucking future, and I had to start getting used to it fast. Working at The Wreck. Being part of the brotherhood that came with being a new recruit of the Phantoms MC. Doing shit I'd undoubtedly stay up late thinking about. Rinse and repeat.
But it was worth it, knowing that Baron got out. Kid was smarter than me, in more ways than one, that was for sure. He'd gotten far, far away from this place the minute he could, thanks to being in Advanced Everything. I couldn't be prouder.
Janine flipped the switch that flooded the delivery lot with light.
"Fucking finally, Janine."
Surprise!"
I jumped back, bumping my elbow against the door and cursing.
Ghost, Carter Sinclair and a bunch of our other friends – both recruits and non-members – were standing outside in front of Ghost's truck, motorcycles parked beside it. Had they been outside in the dark this whole time, using their phones as torches, just waiting for me to come out?
"You assholes," I said, feeling a tightness in my chest.
"Couldn't let you spend your birthday alone," said Ghost, clapping me on my back. I winced. It felt like I'd just been hit with a pile of bricks.
"Get in," said Sin, opening one of the backseat doors.
"Where we going?"
"Put this on," said Ryan King, handing me a pink blindfold.
I laughed. "Seriously?" But I put it on, allowing myself to be shoved into the backseat.
***
I'd never been to Haunted Lake at night before, but it was so much more...peaceful. The water was black, and the moon stared at its reflection in it. It felt almost like we were desecrating holy ground by being there.
There were other headlights around the lake, further away from us. I wondered if they knew why it was called Haunted Lake. I wondered if they knew about the bodies that were supposedly dumped out here.
Bree Mason was shimmying out of her Daisy Dukes and I knew just where this was going. The other girls followed suit, running to the water when they were completely naked.
I turned to Ghost. "You know, I would've been perfectly okay with it just being us tonight."
Sin laughed. "You saying you wanna sleep with us?"
"Fuck you," I replied, but I couldn't help the laugh that escaped. "You know exactly what I mean."
Ghost was leaning against the hood of his truck. "Just tryna help my kid brother have a memorable birthday."
I rolled my eyes at him before going to rummage in the truck for a beer, deciding to take the entire case out to the boys. It was gonna be a long night.
"You guys coming?" Bree yelled from the water.
"The water's nice!" the redhead yelled, as if that was supposed to convince us.
"Hear that, Jake?" Sin elbowed me like we were still kids. "The water's nice."
A tall blonde sauntered up to us out of nowhere, smoking a cigarette. Dressed in a sheer black dress that left little to the imagination and white sneakers, she looked better than any of the girls that we were with. She had eyes for only one person.
"Hey," the girl said, stretching her hand out to Sin and giving him a wide smile when he took it. "I'm Ivy."
"Sin."
I smiled to myself at her bold approach. And maybe it was time for Sin to move on from his ex.
Sin and Ivy had been chatting for maybe five minutes when a group of guys approached us. Just like Ivy, it was like they'd melted out of the shadows.
"Ivy," one of them barked.
Ivy dropped her cigarette onto the grass and squashed it out with the toe of her sneaker. "What is it?"
"The fuck are you doing?"
"What does it look like? I'm talking."
"Get. The. Fuck. Over. Here."
She sighed and turned on her heel, shoving past the guy who'd barked at her.
"You guys lost?" another man asked us.
There were five – no, six – of them, dressed in all black like shadows. They came up to us, collectively stinking of pot and liquor, and their intent was clear. Ghost had stopped reclining against his truck. He was a big motherfucker and usually, his size alone intimidated anyone smart.
These guys weren't smart.
"You don't wanna mess with my woman, that's for sure," Ivy's man said. Now that he was closer, I could see that he was older. Shaggy-haired with streaks of white in his hair and wrinkles around his eyes.
"I'm not interested in your fucking woman," Carter said through clenched teeth. "I can't help it if she's interested in fucking me."
The asshole was a couple inches shorter than Carter, but he was bigger. He had a tattoo beneath his left eye. Some kinda script he definitely should've gotten covered up by a professional at some point in his pathetic life.
"Funny," he said in a tone that told us he didn't find it funny at all. "Why don't you and your little dick-sucking friends take a hike before I really get pissed?"
I threw my empty bottle onto the grass and stepped forward.
"Jake," said Ghost. A warning.
One of the guys had turned for a second. Wraith M.C., the guy's vest had said in big, splashy font across his back. I didn't recognize this M.C., so, just like us, they were out-of-towners. This lake wasn't their territory. As far as I knew, it wasn't anybody's territory, so he had a big pair of balls to come up to us and ask us to leave like he owned the place.
The air was crackling with tension. I could feel it just as much as I could feel the hot air behind my neck, if not more.
Ivy's man turned his attention to me.
"You deaf, or retarded?" he snarled at me. "Pick one."
Being Reaper's son taught me two things: One, always come strapped with a weapon, and two... Know how and when to fucking use it.
My chest hurt like a bitch, and I couldn't tell if it was because my heart was pounding so hard it actually hurt to breathe, or if someone had hit me there. But all I could see was Asshole with the Face Tat on the ground, and I didn't know how he'd gotten there. There was screaming – lots of it – and there was some kinda red film over my eyes. It took me a second to realize that it was blood. Warm. So goddamn warm.
My blade was in one hand and his tattoo was in my other. It wasn't a word, like I'd thought. It was a bunch of tiny crosses.
"Fucking shit, Jake!"
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!"
Someone shoved me off the guy. It felt like I'd had the wind knocked out of me.
"Prez?" I heard someone's panicked voice screech over the commotion. "Jason?"
President, the voice in my head said. Shit.
The girls were hysterical. I could hear them over the sound of the blood pumping in my ears, but they sounded far away. Somebody had hit me. I could taste blood in my mouth. Or maybe it was the Asshole with the Tat's blood. Didn't know. Couldn't tell.
"Get the fuck up," Sin barked into my ear, "and fucking run."
It was as if I were watching someone else scramble to their feet. As if I were watching someone else duck at the sound of the first gunshot and get into Ghost's truck.
"What the fuck's wrong with you?" That was Ryan. Happy-go-lucky, I-was-meant-for-movies Ryan. "What if he's dead? What if they call the cops?"
I stared at the blood on my hands. There was so much of it. My hands looked painted red.
Bree was crying. Or one of her friends was.
"You straight up ripped that guy's face off!"
What was wrong with me?
He called you retarded.
I'd heard that word too many times in my life to let him get away with that.
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