Page 8 of Property of Scythe (Kings of Anarchy MC: Ohio #1)

I didn’t want to scare Lottie, but someone followed her, and they didn’t just run behind her. I saw evidence of the same shoe prints tracking her to several places in town. Pissed, I dialed Phantom’s number after I watched Lottie enter her building.

“What you need, Pres?”

“Lottie has a stalker,” I growl, moving away from the entrance to her building, but keeping it within my sights. “I want someone on her tail twenty-four seven. If I can’t be there, I want a prospect or a patched member keeping an eye out.”

“I’ll make it happen.”

“Good. I’m making some calls.”

I click off with him and then dial my brother, Boomer. As the sheriff, he has access to shit I don’t. He finally picks up after the fourth ring. “About time you called, pretty boy.”

“Shut up, asshole. We meeting up for breakfast with Pops in the morning? ”

“Don’t we every Friday?”

We do. “Listen. I need to run something by you.”

“Shit. Mila okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Emma? The club?”

“We’re all good. This is personal,” I announced, knowing he’d take it seriously if I put it to him that way.

“Alright. See ya at nine.”

I end the call with Boomer and then dial my dad next.

“Hey, Pops,” I greet him as he answers. “Tell me you’re not asleep already.”

It was after nine. A legit question.

“Fuck off,” he laughs. “We still on for breakfast?”

“Yeah. I just confirmed with Boomer.”

“You picking me up?”

“You do live on the property,” I remind him.

My father had his own residence on our land, opting to give up the main house for me and Mila. I kept trying to get him to move in with us, but he loved the little house by the pond. It had been one of my mother’s favorite spots before she died. I don’t think he’ll ever leave it.

“Yeah, I suppose I do,” he laughs. “Don’t forget.”

“I won’t.”

After that call, I pull out a smoke, lighting up as I stare at Lottie’s building.

She has a concierge and a keypad entry, but that won’t stop someone who wants to get inside badly enough.

She’s become a target or she’s been one, I’m not sure which, but I intend to find out.

If she’s got a restraining order against someone, Boomer will find it.

I stay at her building for an hour, waiting until I’ve got one of my brothers here to protect Lottie. When Phantom shows up, I tick my chin at him. “No one else available?”

“I volunteered, Pres. Figured you’d want the best.”

“I guess I’ll settle for you,” I joke.

“I’m packin’ enough heat to ensure anyone trying to harm her won’t get far,” he promises.

“And if the fucker stalking her does?”

“I’m not called Phantom for no reason.”

He’s right. I almost pity any motherfucker stupid enough to confront him.

“I need to get home. Mila is waiting on me for her bedtime story.”

“Then get the fuck outta here, Pres. I got this.”

It doesn’t take long to return to my bike and head home. Emma and Mila are watching Frozen when I walk into the living room. My daughter’s wearing her pajamas, which means she’s ready for bed. A task I don’t have to worry about.

“Thanks, Emma. I appreciate you.”

She waves me off as she heads toward the door. “No problem. Enjoy your weekend.”

“Same to you.”

Emma doesn’t work on the weekends unless I need her to babysit. I try not to ask her often since she’s here so much during the week. I hear her car start and watch the headlights disappear down the road before I turn to my little munchkin.

“Hey, princess. Are we ready for a story yet?”

“Yes!” She’s up off the couch and running toward me, the movie forgotten, as I reach down and pick her up. “Swing, Daddy!”

I turn in circles, not too fast, as Mila squeals.

“More!”

“Maybe later. You have school tomorrow. ”

She hugs me around the neck, snuggling her soft cheek to mine as we make our way down the hall. I got her settled in, and we read three stories before her eyes finally closed. When I flip off the light, she doesn’t stir.

It’s been a long day, and I pull a beer out of the fridge, settling on the couch as I find something to watch.

I’m not much of a TV guy, but since Mila’s been born, I don’t have the desire to get shitfaced or party every night.

My daughter is my priority and the only thing that means more to me than my club.

My phone buzzes with a new text. It’s Phantom.

I LOCK UP AND HEAD to bed after I finish my beer. Tossing the bottle in the trash, I stretch and head down the hall, pausing to check on Mila. Her even breathing confirms she’s out for the night.

The following morning, Mila is up before the alarm, getting ready without any prompting from me. It’ s three days in a row we haven’t had an issue, and I’m hoping it stays that way.

I’m guessing it has something to do with her loving school this year. I’m curious about her answer. As I set a plate in front of her with a couple of sausage links and scrambled eggs, I decide to ask. “How’s school, munchkin?”

She chews her food and swallows before answering, like I taught her. “It’s the bestest, Daddy.”

She describes everything that way lately.

“I have the most friends.”

I chuckle. It doesn’t surprise me. “What about Ms. Bishop? Do you like her?”

Her smile tells me she does. “I love her, Daddy.”

“That’s good. She’s nice, isn’t she?”

“She lets me get chocolate milk at lunch.”

I snort. That’s adorable. My kid loves milk, but chocolate is a rare treat. I guess I don’t mind since she’s so active during the day. “Not every day, okay?”

Mila nods. “Okay, Daddy.”

We finish breakfast, and I drop her off, barely getting a hug before she’s rushing off with her friends.

I try not to stare at Lottie when I see her. It’s not fucking easy. She loves to dress in ways that stir my blood. I never knew I had a kink like this, enjoying all the tight dresses, plaid skirts, and silky shorts she wears. She’s always showing off her curves, but she does it in a classy way.

The windows are cracked in the classroom to let in some ventilation, and I notice a breeze as it sweeps through, ruffling papers on Lottie’s desk. She bends down to pick up a fallen eraser when the gust blows up the bottom of her skirt to reveal her bare cheeks and purple thong.

Fuck me. I groan, resisting the need to adjust my hardening cock .

Lottie gasps as she smooths her skirt, and I look away, pretending I saw nothing. “Hey, Scythe.”

“Morning, Lottie,” I manage to reply, ignoring the need pulsing through my body. I just want one fucking taste of her. One sweep of my tongue through her slit. Maybe if I fuck her, I’ll get her outta my head.

Even as I think it, I know it’s not true.

There’s no time to focus on this. I need to head back to my place and pick up my dad so we can meet Boomer for breakfast. “Have a great day.”

My boots can’t carry me out of there fast enough. The image of her perfect ass is now burned into my brain. I won’t be able to forget it. I’m gonna beat off in the shower later, and I’m not ashamed to admit it.

I ride back to the house and drop off my bike, choosing the Ford to pick up Dad. He’s waiting for me on the porch when I pull up. I grin as he pushes to his feet, and once he’s buckled in, I head to Tillie’s.

“You’re grinning like a damn fool. You meet a woman?”

“Yeah,” I admit.

“Thought so.”

I snicker at his confidence. “She’s Mila’s new teacher.”

He chuckles. “Pretty?”

“Fucking gorgeous.”

My pops shakes his head. “Careful. That can go south fast.”

“I am. She’s a sweetheart.”

He focuses his attention on me instead of the scenery. “You like her.”

“I do.” More than I let on to anyone. Well, I’m sure Phantom has figured it out.

“Good for you, son. ”

We enjoy the rest of the drive in silence, parking in front of Tillie’s as we spot Boomer. He shoves his sunglasses over his forehead and claps my father on the back.

“Mornin’, Pops. You hungry?”

“Starvin’.”

“Blueberry pancakes and bacon?” I suggest.

“And coffee,” Dad confirms.

He never eats anything else when we go to Tillie’s. He says there’s no point since they’re the best items on the menu.

Tillie is ready for us when we enter, ushering us to our regular booth. Dad always sits opposite me and Boomer. It’s been like that since we were kids. Since we don’t need a menu, each of us orders, grabbing mugs and sipping on coffee as Tillie rushes off to grab us fresh biscuits.

My brother ticks his chin toward me. “So, what’s this about?”

He never wastes time with bullshit. A trait we both learned from our father.

I lean forward, keeping my voice low. “Someone in town is stalking the new teacher.”

Boomer frowns. “Give me the details.”

I fill him in, adding my concern. “Her name is Lottie Bishop, but that’s probably not her actual first name. I’m guessing it’s a nickname. Try Charlotte, Lisette, or Dorothy.”

“You want me to do a thorough check?”

“Just enough to know if she’s got a restraining order or a history of a violent assault. I get the feeling someone hurt her.” I clench my fist, knowing if that’s true, I will fuck up whoever is after her.

“Easy, Scythe. I’ll let you know what I find,” Boomer assures me.

“I’m worried. If she has a stalker, then she’s not in danger only at home. She’s got twenty-two kids in her second-grade class, including Mila. I don’t want some sick fuck going after Lottie or my daughter.”

“Make this a priority,” my dad agrees, giving my brother the order.

Pops is no longer the president of the Kings, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have power in this town. Everyone still calls him Hangman. And when he speaks, people listen.

That includes me and Boomer. It doesn’t matter if I’m the current president or if Boomer is the sheriff. Hangman trumps our position whenever he wants. Luckily, my father’s not an asshole. He only gives an order when it’s important.

“I’ll take care of it as soon as I’m back in the office,” my brother promises.

“Will you call me when you find something? I’ve got church, but call anyway. I need to know what we’re dealing with and prepare the club in case shit is happening in our town.”

“Done.”

We don’t discuss this any further and enjoy our breakfast, parting ways after we leave Tillie a hefty tip. I drop Pops back at the house, pick up my bike, and ride to The Barn.

When I park, I notice the whole lot is freshly mown. The prospects are still outside, cleaning shit up. Phantom must have lit a fire under their asses this morning. I chuckle as I enter and walk through the bar, making my way to the chapel.

It’s nearly noon. Every patched member sits at the table as I take my seat. Church isn’t just a meeting, it’s a way of life. This is how we communicate important information and make decisions, including voting on all aspects of club business and resolving conflicts. This room is fucking sacred.

My gaze sweeps over all the members. Mountain and Voodoo are notably absent since they’re in California.

Phantom sits to my left. Hayride, Lasso, Moonshine, and Sasquatch finish off that row.

After Mountain’s empty seat to the right, there’s Hound, Scarecrow, Charon, our cleaner, and Virus, who’s our hacker and forger.

Our chaplain, Testament, sits at the end .

These men are more than bike enthusiasts and members of a motorcycle club. They’re my brothers. Family. We bonded over our patch and we wear our colors with pride. Fuck with one of us, you fuck with us all. That goes for every chapter in the Kings of Anarchy. Location doesn’t matter.

This lifestyle isn’t for the weak. Every man here has earned his place. I trust them as I do my father and Boomer. That kind of loyalty and brotherhood can’t be bought.

That’s why I wear this patch and lead these men. There’s no other place I’d rather be.