Page 6 of Property of Scythe (Kings of Anarchy MC: Ohio #1)

“ Y ou ready yet, munchkin?” I ask, stuffing Mila’s lunch sack into her backpack.

I’ve spent the last hour ensuring all her school supplies were packed, her contact information updated, and her new shoes were ready by the front door. We’re going to be late if we don’t leave soon. I check my watch. Fuck. We have to go.

“Princess?” I call out when I don’t hear her answer.

“Daddy!”

At her cry, I drop everything and rush into her room, instantly on alert. She doesn’t call out for me like that unless it’s an emergency. I dash into her room and find Mila struggling to pull up her tights.

“It’s ripping.” She sounds heartbroken.

No problem. I keep extra pairs of tights in multiple colors on hand in case of imminent meltdown. “It’s okay. We have more. Promise.”

Relief spreads across her tiny face as she shoves down her tights and kicks them off. I see multiple tears in the sheer pink material. Choosing another set of pink, I sit on her bed and pat the mattress. “Come on. I’ll help.”

Once she’s ready, I get tackled in a hug. “You’re the bestest Daddy ever.”

I’ll never tire of hearing her say that. I tap the end of her nose. “And you’re the bestest daughter. Princess, too.”

She smiles widely as I lead her outside, and we manage to arrive at the elementary school on time. The mornings can be a whirlwind, and I never know if my sweet little munchkin will have an attitude or not. Sometimes, she’s a grumpy bear when she first wakes up.

Today is going smoothly with only one minor glitch I easily handled. We’ve got her lunch and everything she needs. My little princess is wearing her new clothes, and she’s skipping as she holds my hand. I’m fucking slaying her first day.

We find her classroom with ease since there’s only one grade per class. In a town our size, there’s no need for more. The second-grade classroom is right beside her old first-grade room from last year. Mila notices right away.

“Look, Daddy! It’s Mr. Miller’s class.”

“I see that, munchkin.”

“I’m a big girl now,” she declares. “I get to go to second grade.”

“You sure are. I bet all your friends from last year are here too.”

Her excitement is almost too much as she tugs me through the door.

It’s a crowded space with all the desks, parents, and new students.

I wonder who the teacher is going to be since Mrs. Hill retired last year.

Mila rushes off as she sees a few friends, and I watch her go, my chest feeling a bit tight.

She’s growing up too fucking fast.

I turn and scan the room, catching the blackboard with the name Ms. Bishop printed in neat handwriting with white chalk.

I don’t have time to make the connection to the last name before I see her, freezing as I glimpse Mila’s new teacher.

None other than Lottie Bishop stands with a few parents, greeting kids and families.

Fuck me.

She’s wearing a short navy plaid dress that hugs all her curves, and I’m instantly having naughty schoolgirl fantasies pop into my head.

She’s wearing a thin sweater over the top layer, but I can still see the swell of her breasts beneath the fabric.

Long, tanned legs are bare to my hungry gaze, and I gobble up every exposed inch, nearly salivating at the sight.

Christ. I’ve been single for too long.

Not just that. It’s been months since I took a woman into my bed. I have fucking needs, and my hand isn’t cutting it.

And that’s when her head lifts and our eyes meet. For a brief second, they betray her surprise. I can’t help my grin because I’m going to be seeing a lot more of Lottie Bishop.

Mila chooses that moment to rush to my side, crashing into my stomach as I laugh. “Daddy! All my friends are here!”

“That’s awesome. Why don’t we go meet your teacher?”

“Is she nice?”

“Let’s find out.” I reach for her hand, and she’s suddenly shy, nearly dragging her feet as we approach Lottie. “It’s okay,” I assure Mila, knowing she just needs a little reassurance.

“Daddy,” Mila says a little too loudly. “She’s so pretty.”

Oh, I agree. “I saw her name on the chalkboard. It’s Ms. Bishop.”

We reach Lottie, and she seems to notice Mila’s shyness without me having to say a word. This beautiful young woman drops to Mila’s level on her knees and smiles at my daughter like she’s the only other person in the room.

“Hi. I’m your new teacher, Ms. Bishop. Are you one of my students?”

Mila nods .

“What’s your name?”

“Mila Madden.”

“That’s a lovely name.” Her smile widens. “You know, my favorite princess is Elsa.”

Mila gasps. “She is?”

“Oh, yes. I love singing all the songs in the movie. My favorite is “Let It Go.” What about you?”

Mila stares at her with wonder and a bit starry-eyed. “That’s my favorite too.”

“Well, maybe the class would like to listen to some music during circle time. What do you think?”

“Yes!”

My little girl is out of her shell without realizing it, and I have Lottie to thank for it.

This woman intrigues me more every time I see her.

She’s genuine, sweet, kind, and patient.

Qualities that I want to influence my daughter.

Ms. Bishop is the perfect choice for Raven’s Crest Elementary’s second-grade class.

It’s almost like the town handpicked her for the job.

Lottie rises to her feet and holds out her hand. “Would you like to help me get everyone to their seats?”

Mila doesn’t hesitate.

Lottie gives me a nod and a confident smile before they walk away. I head toward the door, noticing I’m the last parent to leave. Christ. I guess I’m not hiding my attraction or fascination with the new schoolteacher.

I wave at Mila, but she’s so engrossed she doesn’t see. That tightness in my chest flares before it recedes. She’s in good hands. I’ll see her when I pick her up.

There’s only one elementary bus, but since my hours are so flexible, I don’t sign Mila up for it. I’ve always been the one to drop her off and pick her up, and now I’ve got even more incentive. This school year should be interesting .

For now, I’ve got work to do.

PHANTOM IS WAITING for me as I pull up to our clubhouse, The Barn.

It’s not a metaphor. My grandfather bought this land and renovated the old barn on the property before I was born.

It’s been expanded over the years, and now it sits in a horseshoe shape with the bar in the center.

It’s the first thing you see as you walk inside the entrance.

“Mornin’,” I say, tapping a pack of smokes that I pull from my cut.

I select a Marlboro Red and light the end, snatching my nicotine fix since I haven’t had a smoke yet.

Some days I’ll go through a pack. Others, I only indulge in a few a day.

It depends on how busy I am and how much time I spend with Mila.

“Mornin’, Pres. Mountain and Voodoo checked in. Uneventful ride so far.”

“Good to know.” Mountain also sent me a text, but with Mila’s first day, he guessed I’d be distracted. He didn’t know the half of it. “Met Mila’s teacher before I rode over.”

“Yeah? She like her?”

“Yeah.” I inhale, immediately seeing a vision of Lottie Bishop in her plaid dress, dropping to her knees. Goddamn. That’s a sight I want to see again when my daughter’s not around. “She’s the girl from my visions.”

Phantom chuckles. “No shit? Is she pretty?”

I stare him down, making a point. “No one touches her or fucks with her. Period.”

Phantom tilts his head back and guffaws. “Fucking hell, Scythe. You wanna fuck Mila’s new teacher? ”

I don’t mind that Mountain and Phantom don’t always call me president.

They do it when it counts, like whenever I issue an order or there are other members around.

But the three of us grew up in this town and went to the same schools.

We’re bonded by more than the club. Hence, the reason I chose them for my V.P. and Sergeant at Arms.

“She’s mine,” I growl, and it shocks me as much as it does Phantom. I nearly jolt when the words pass my lips.

He holds up his palms, grinning like a goddamn fool. “Alright. I got you, Pres.”

I snort. “This is fucked up.”

“It’s the visions, huh?”

It always is. They mess with my head sometimes.

“Yeah. This is different. There’s something about her.

She’s like a magnet I can’t resist.” I spear a hand through my hair before I toss my cigarette to the ground and stomp the cinders with my boot.

“She’s in danger. I think she’s runnin’ from someone. ”

“Shit. That is fucked. What are you gonna do?”

“For now? Nothing.”

“But we watch her,” he guesses.

“I fucking watch her,” I clarify.

His smirk is back. “Right.” He clears his throat. “What’s her name? You know, in case you need backup or some shit.”

I flip him off. “Lottie Bishop.”

“Pretty name. I wonder if she’s related to the Salem Bishops?”

I shrug. I’m done talking about Lottie for now.

Phantom picks up on my mood. He ticks his chin toward the cornfields that seem to stretch far beyond the horizon. “Cornfields are high. It’s time to cut the maze.”

“We’ll do it next week in time to open up after Labor Day.”

That’s when the tourist season begins for us. With all hands on deck, we’ll have it ready to go in about five days .

The Chills ‘N’ Thrills Maze is one of the most popular attractions, and since we own the land, leasing a large portion of it for harvesting, we keep the cornfields high through the end of the season.

The tourists love the corn maze and haunted hayrides and expect these spooky attractions when they visit Raven’s Crest. We employ folks in the town as well as working shifts to ensure that shit runs smoothly.

It’s a busy twelve weeks from Labor Day to Thanksgiving.

“You want us to get to work on the props for the haunted hayride?”

“Yeah. Make it bloody and scary. We post signs warning people. If they shit their pants, it’s not our fault.”

Phantom spits out part of the Dr. Pepper he’s drinking. “Fuck, Scythe. You did that shit on purpose.”

Maybe. I grin as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Don’t forget to string up the flying ghosts.”

“I won’t.”

“Who’re you going as this year?” He picks a different costume every year to frighten the crowd. Last year, he chose Leatherface.

“Art the Clown.”

“That creepy fucker from Terrifier who doesn’t speak?”

“Yep.”

“Damn. I can hear the screams already,” I joke.

“That’s the point, Pres.”

“We should check on the props from last year,” I suggest. “I don’t want any surprises next week while we’re setting up.”

“If there are any repairs that need done, I’ll take care of ’em.”

There’s a second barn on our property that’s filled with several wagons, wooden props, and other supplies. We keep it locked up when not in use, so I’m not surprised to see it’s dusty inside the barn when we enter .

I take inventory and make a list of additional materials we’ll need.

When we meet for church, I’ll get input from all the members and decide if we want to add anything to the corn maze or hayride this year.

I expect we will. While the season is a lot of work, we also enjoy the chance to have fun outside of regular club duties.

The spooky season in Raven’s Crest is like nowhere else in the world.

“I’m headin’ out,” I tell Phantom as we walk out of the barn.

“Need anything else done?”

“Yeah. Get the prospects to mow the fucking lawn. It’s a goddamn jungle back here.”

“I’m on it.”

I should be thinking about all the shit that needs done before we’re ready to open for the season, but my thoughts keep drifting to a pretty brunette with fiery green eyes and curves I itch to touch.

It’s not stalking if I visit the school since my daughter is a student. I’m just checking in. Before I can talk myself out of it, I’m on my way, riding with my knees in the crisp, early autumn breeze.

I fucking love this time of year.