My best friend’s sister

Reaper

I got out of bed at 8 sharp. I shut the alarm off that was mostly of no use. My head hurt from everything. The alcohol. The lack of sleep. The encounter. Every single thing.

I stepped out of my room and walked down the hallway. I passed the guest bedroom door. The door was closed. Probably she was still sleeping.

I didn't care. I went downstairs and walked into the kitchen.

A middle age woman was wiping the counter. Bethy. She was the caretaker of the house.

“Good morning.” She said, not looking up.

“Morning.” I grunted, walking to the coffee machine.

I poured the black coffee into a mug and took a sip. It was bitter, just how I liked it.

“The girl from last night. Is she still sleeping?” I asked.

“She left about an hour ago.” Bethy replied plainly as she continued what she was doing.

The mug stopped halfway to my mouth. “Left?” I repeated.

Bethy chuckled. “Yes. That’s new.”

Most women would stay. They would wait for breakfast. They would wait for money. Or they would wait to ask ‘what are we?’

But this girl just ran.

“Good.” I muttered. “Less headache for me.”

I finished the coffee in one gulp. It burned my throat, but I ignored it. I put the mug in the sink with a loud clatter and walked straight to the guest room door.

I stared at the wood grain for a full minute.

Just walk away, I thought. She was gone. Problem solved.

I pushed the door open anyway. The room was spotless. The bed was made perfectly. It looked like no one had ever been there. But the scent was still there and it hit me instantly. The scent of her body, the sex we had.

I stepped inside, staring at the bed.

My cock hardened instantly at the thought of her tight, wet pussy squeezing me.

“Fuck.” I groaned into the empty room, running a hand over my face.

I was hard just thinking about the way she milked me. Something must be wrong with me.

I sighed as I walked over to the bed, noticing something on the floor near the nightstand. I bent down and picked it up.

It was a small earring. A little silver stud. I clenched the earring in my fist and shoved it into my pocket.

I arrived at the club late. The compound was already noisy with all the people whistling, bikes buzzing.

“Morning, Prez.” A prospect stuttered, rushing over to take my bike.

I shoved the keys into his chest without looking at him. “Don’t scratch it.”

I stormed past the bar, ignoring the few club whores roaming on the leather couches. They smiled, shifting their legs to show off what they had. I didn't even blink. They looked like cheap plastic compared to her.

I kicked the door to my office open and slammed the door shut. Slowly, the noise of the club faded as I walked over to the wooden desk and collapsed on the chair.

I closed my eyes and I saw her. Not in my bed, but here.

I imagined her bent over this desk, her ass bare, her face pressed against the wood while I fucked her from behind.

My imagination was interrupted when the door opened without a knock.

I looked up, ready to kill whoever was stupid enough to walk in.

It was Justin. Of course it was.

He came in like this was his place, kicking the door shut with his boot. He was smiling, that dirty grin he always had when he broke something expensive or got laid. Sometimes both.

“You look like shit,” Justin said as he dropped into the chair in front of my desk. He put his boots up on the wood, ankles crossed. “Bad night, Princess Reaper?”

“Get your feet off my desk” I said, annoyed.

He didn’t move. Instead, he pulled out a pack of smokes from his c. “What’s wrong? Didn’t get your morning blowjob?”

My jaw clenched so hard it hurt. If he knew.

“What do you want?” I snapped. I needed him gone. “I got work.”

“Work. Yeah.” He lit a cigarette, smoke going up to the ceiling. “That what we call sitting in the dark and sulking now?”

I stared at him. He was my VP, my best friend, the only one I trusted with my life. Still, I wanted to hit him.

“Then I’m leaving,” I said, starting to stand.

“Sit your ass down. I got news.” He reached into his jeans. “Fixed this piece of crap last night. Took four hours and a solder thing, but it turns on now.”

He threw an old phone on my desk. It hit hard, right next to my fist. It had its screen cracked, and body worn out.

“Why should I care about your trash?” I asked as I glanced down at it.

“Because it’s my old burner.” Justin said, sounding serious now. “The one before I went inside three years ago. Got some contacts on it. Also, family stuff.”

The family stuff. He meant his sister. He only had her. But they weren't in contact for at least five years.

“You getting soft now?” I said.

“Fuck you.” He smiled, but his eyes didn’t. “Anyway, it's updating or some shit. Signal sucks downstairs, so I brought it here.”

He stood and checked his watch. “Gotta go to the docks. Make sure the prospects don’t drop shit in the water.”

He walked to the door, took his smoke, but left the phone.

“Havoc.” I said. That’s his road name. We were forbidden to call each other by our real names in the club. That's the rule.

He stopped. “Yeah?”

“Take your junk.”

He waved his hand. “Leave it. Downloading. I’ll get it later. Just don’t break it.”

Then he left, slamming the door shut.

I was alone again. Peace.

But the peace didn't last. The phone lit up, buzzing on the desk. A message showed on the lock screen.

I shouldn’t look. It was Justin’s problem. But the name on the screen made me look.

Mila. His sister.

9 Missed Calls: Mila (1 day ago)

8 New Voicemails

78 New Messages.

I frowned. The phone just got its signal back. That's why, it was pulling in old shit all at once.

I tried to ignore it as I looked back at the earring in my hand. But the phone vibrated again. Then again.

“Shut the fuck off.” I muttered.

I reached to shut it off, but my thumb slipped on the screen. Old phone. No lock. No code.

The screen opened.

It was the last message thread. Mila’s.

A: I am sorry, Justin. I hurt you deeply. (2 years ago)

A: Justin, I lost my baby today. You still wouldn't forgive me? I need to talk to you. (2 years ago)

A: Justin. He slapped me today. Can you pick up the call, please? (1 year ago)

A:  Guess what? You were right. I shouldn't have married him. He just offered me an open marriage. I tried calling you. Now, I am leaving. I don’t know where to go. (Yesterday)

A: Justin, I remember you love MC clubs. I am in one right now. It's called Night Reaper. Please, come.(Yesterday)

I froze at the club name. My club. Last night. I stared at the phone as if it were a bomb. I needed to know. I tapped the voicemail icon and played one of hers from last month.

“Justin, he won't let me work. He is hurting me again. Please, call me, huh?” Her voice was broken. But I didn't fail to recognize it.

He is hurting me again.

The words rang in my ears, overlapping with the voice from last night. “I have a brother. It says no signal.”

The phone slipped from my fingers and clattered onto the desk. “Fuck.” I whispered as I clutched the earring tightly in my other hand.

No way. It was her. My best friend’s sister. And I had just fucked her.