Biker’s Collar: Property of Scrap (Rebel Barbarians MC #6)

Chapter 17 – Vickie

Seventeen

Vickie

O wen has to understand that situations like this are why a woman might drug him and run out the fucking window. I’ve barely been around him for three days and this situation has already escalated out of control. I hate to think this about another human being, but the resemblance is so uncanny that it just jumps into my head. You know how some people look like horses, just a little bit? This woman looks like a pale, blue-nosed pitbull with soft, clear blue eyes but a mean ass mug that looks like she’s going to pounce on Owen.

I have a lot of nerve comparing that woman to a dog with a collar around my neck. But it’s just the truth. And I don’t feel great about the collar either. What choice did I have? Owen has the clear capacity for brutality and… the leather isn’t too tight. I can handle the collar around my neck for a lot longer than I can handle Owen’s tightening fingers.

The two bouncer-looking-ass motherfuckers standing next to Owen’s ex-girlfriend don’t make me feel any safer. It’s some kind of fucked up three-headed-dog situation and I’m glad that Owen is currently standing between us. I don’t have a weapon, but even if I had one, I doubt he would want me to use that on his brothers or the mother of his child. Shit, he’s the boss right now, so I guess I could do mostly everything he asked as long as it wasn’t too sick…

His ex-girlfriend is shorter than I thought she would be, clocking in at no taller than five-foot-two while wearing high heels. Her hands are on her hips and her nostrils are all flared out with her hair in a Snooki from Jersey Shore style bump in her hair. I haven’t seen that hairstyle in a damn decade. The men standing next to her at least wear name tags, although I recognize Bear’s face once I see him. His beard is fully grey compared to the last time I saw him and his hair isn’t jet black anymore. Bear’s salt and pepper hair is a couple inches long and messy from his bike helmet. He looks like an old black bear now, instead of just a terrifying grizzly.

I feel strangely calm and just observant of the entire situation. I don’t feel insecure around the mother of Owen’s child, although maybe I should. The way she comes out swinging like that… Well, I get it. But I don’t want those kinds of problems and if she pushes me too far, I’ll do what I have to do.

“She’s not a hooker,” Bear says, which is weird, because he literally paid me to have sex with his brother. “And I swear, Kaylee-Marie, I hear one more word from your ass, I’ll shoot you myself.”

Kaylee-Marie tosses as much of her hair as she can over her shoulders. One of her extensions hangs off a little bit. I avoid making eye contact with the loose hair extension. Kaylee-Marie turns her furious gaze over to Owen’s brother but she’s smart enough not to sass him back. He’s much taller than Owen, and he looks like he breaks necks for fun.

I can see the angry words rolling around in her mouth and I’m just grateful this woman isn’t still looking in my direction. I want to lean on Owen more, but I don’t want him to get too full of himself, like I’m entering some jealous contest for his affection. Owen takes a step back and puts his arm around my shoulder, which strikes me as a mistake, especially judging by the expression on his other brother’s face.

“Southpaw” reaches for his weapon with his left hand, so I guess they didn’t get too creative with their nicknames. I’ll have to ask Owen what the hell he did to end up with Scrap as a nickname.

“Listen. I’m here about Waverly, and that’s it. Do we have the money? Where do we need to take it? And who the fuck has her? I haven’t played any dice games lately,” Owen says.

He thinks he’s doing a good job at hiding his vulnerabilities, and how worried he is, but his missing daughter is clearly driving him crazy. It’s a miracle he hasn’t been stress-betting on his phone and cleaned instead. Because that’s the only explanation I have for why this grown man started scrubbing this nasty ass environment.

“Well I’m not the degenerate gambler!” Kaylee-Marie says. It’s more like a scream. I lock back into the conversation, ignoring the slow creep of black mold on the ceiling that was starting to catch my attention. I’m not the only one shook up at the condition of our current venue.

“Yeah, apparently you don’t sweep or mop either,” Bear grumbles. “Some gambling might help you afford bleach. The entryway is caked in grime. My mother would have had our asses scrubbing this place down on our hands and knees.”

Damn, Bear went in on her ass. I look over at Owen to see his response and he just looks upset that nobody appreciates the slight progress he’s made at tackling the mess in this place.

“What do you think I’ve been doing since I got here?” Owen asks.

His brothers exchange glances and then look at me. Could men be more stupid and obvious about their “secret” communication? Bonobos could interpret that look. And unfortunately, the only person in the room who is louder than a bonobo reacts.

“WELL IT’S OBVIOUS YOU’VE BEEN HAVING SEX IN MY HOUSE WHILE SOME GANGSTERS ARE RAPING OUR DAUGHTER.”

“That’s enough!” Southpaw yells. I look over at Owen and I can tell he’s about to snap. I thought I could get under this man’s skin but the shit that just came out of Kaylee-Marie’s mouth clearly makes him want to throw hands.

“One more word from anyone in this room and I’ll slaughter all of you. Anna is watching the next episode of that show without me because of this bullshit.”

“What show?” I ask. Owen glares at me.

“None of your business.”

“It’s Grey’s Anatomy,” Bear blurts out. “He likes the thick black doctor.”

“Bailey?”

Never in my life have I heard anyone refer to Bailey like this. These men clearly have a type and it honestly disturbs me.

“We have the money,” Southpaw says, steamrolling straight over what would have been a fascinating conversation about gangster biker’s television tastes. “The ransom note says we have to meet at Hoover Park, 8 p.m. Well, they want Kaylee-Marie with the money alone.”

I’m not an expert, but even I know that doesn’t sound like a good idea.

“That’s obviously not going to happen,” Bear says before Owen can escalate the situation like he clearly wants to. “We’re gonna get in position early and… Southpaw and I were thinking we would send your accomplice in disguise.

“Am I the accomplice?” I chime in. Owen throws me a dirty look and Kaylee-Marie’s nose flares out again. I almost regret asking.

“Yes,” Southpaw says. “You weren’t a secret. I knew he wouldn’t be stupid enough to kill you and add more to our plate.”

“Thanks,” Owen mutters.

“So what? You’re sleeping with her?” Bear asks rudely.

I look at Kaylee-Marie out of an instinctive desire to survive. Thankfully, Owen stops the conversation from spiraling further out of control. He’s here for his daughter and I’m only here because he dragged me here. I don’t want his ex to jump my ass while his brothers watch or however the hell this might play out.

“I don’t want to discuss my personal life,” Owen says. “I’ll take Vickie out back to my house until we need to get in position.”

“You only have a few hours,” Southpaw says. “Don’t be late.”

“Text me everything I need to know.”

Owen stops in front of Kaylee-Marie as I follow him – mostly because my ass doesn’t plan on staying here and I’ll take my chances with Owen over any of the other people in the room.

“Waverly won’t grow up in a dump like this. I bought you a house. I gave you everything you asked for… I don’t know how the fuck you lost our daughter, but I’ll find out. Because I don’t think this has a damn thing to do with my gambling.”

Bear and Southpaw both let Owen speak before he leaves. I don’t know how he can be so confident that this has nothing to do with his gambling, but I guess we’ll find out. Once we’re outside, Owen walks pensively towards his bike with his hands in his pockets. He hands me my helmet. I take it, but I also stop his hand.

“Are you okay?”

“Since when do you care?”

“I don’t. I just don’t want to get on the back of your bike if you’re suicidal or something.”

He smirks. “Nice save.”

“Answer the question.”

“The only thing I ever wanted was for Waverly to have a good life. Everyone I know convinced me she would be better off with Kaylee-Marie. I feel like a fucking deadbeat.”

“You love her. If you love her, fight for her.”

He smiles and closes the distance between us. The strange feelings between us are still there and I still hate them, even if I’m the crazy person encouraging those feelings right now.

“Sounds like you care about me.”

“I care about that baby.”

“That baby is six years old.”

He sounds sad again.

“When did you last see her?”

“Thanksgiving,” he turns red. “And I fought for her in court. I was clean when I sat there and then… it doesn’t matter. We’re going to my place before tonight.”

“How many places do you have?”

“Enough places that I could forget where I put you if I don’t keep you close.”

He looks at me the way guys do when they’re about to kiss you. I want to stop him by saying something cruel. Shit, I would drug him again if I could. But this time, Owen drugs me. That’s what it feels like at least. He kisses me with wet, warm lips. And he feels good.

He feels so much better than I want him to feel.

“Don’t pull away,” he whispers between a break in our kisses. “I don’t know why you make me feel so good… because outside of this… my whole world is always falling apart.”

He kisses me again and just like that, the moment of vulnerability ends. Owen puts his helmet on and becomes Scrap. A dangerous, violent biker who could kill at any minute. That’s how he looks at least. I wonder how many people know that underneath it all, that terrifying beast has something soft and gentle about him.