Reginald Bones: Box Set 1-3

  REGINALD BONES

  PART 3

  REGINALD BONES 1 REGINALD BONES 2

  BY LUCIAN BANE

  © 2016 by Lucian Bane

  All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of Lucian Bane or his legal representative.

  To all the readers, fans, and or Reader’s clubs. Thank you for supporting my work. I’d also like to ask nicely that you please not Pirate my work. That basically means don’t give it away just because you bought it. If you know of anybody that can’t afford a copy, give me a holler. I’m a nice guy.

  Also, if you need a different format, please contact me, the Author.

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to my beautiful, amazing, gorgeous wife. I love you forever. Thank you so much for putting up with me, for believing in me, and for loving me.

  SPECIAL ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  THE JAN WADE!

  THE TAMMY BURCH!

  THE CATHY KNUTH!

  THE JULIET TAI!

  THE KIMIE SUTHERLAND!

  YOU LADIES HAVE DONE PHENOMONALLY FOR ME THESE PAST FEW MONTHS! I AM SO DEEPLY GRATEFUL TO HAVE YOU IN MY BACK POCKET!

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  WITHOUT YOU, WHERE WOULD I BE?

  WORKING ANOTHER JOB BESIDES WRITING! THANK YOU!

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  THE FIRST CHAPTER

  Winter jolted awake, fighting for air as she blinked off the thousand-year sleep from her eyelids. She groaned and rolled onto her side.

  Her breath froze with the onslaught of memory flashes. Fuck shit! X! She darted her eyes around the empty room. Bones’ room. Bones’ bed.

  She struggled her way to sitting, wide awake now. Did she dream him? No, no, no. Not a chance. More reality hit, blasting the breath right out of her. Dear Christ. Bones had another personality. Another personality!

  She scooted herself to the edge of the bed. Her body recalled what X had done to her while her mind replayed his words.

  “Tomorrow night will be my turn. Prepare for a long night pretty Winter.”

  “Shit,” she whispered, suddenly breathless at what that meant.

  “Check the hospital records pretty Winter.”

  She threw the covers off, moaning from the pain shooting down her back. Christ. She felt worse than ever! Listening for sounds, she looked around and dragged the flannel shirt off the bed, attempting to get it on. Screw the shirt. She stood and pulled the sheet with her, wrapping it around her sore body as she listened for movement in the house.

  She leaned and peered out the well-lit windows. How late was it? Sun seemed high.

  She limped her way to the door and listened before opening it. Nothing. She turned the metal knob and opened it a little, peering through the crack. Still nothing.

  She hobbled her way from room to room, until she ended at the empty kitchen. She looked around for any kind of note, or message. She spotted the coffee maker with the time of 11:45. Wow! She’d slept like the dead!

  She peeked out the windows, looking for movement in the graveyard. Nothing. “Where the hell are you, Bones?”

  Maybe it was good he was gone. She shuffled her way to the coffee pot and opened the cabinet. Tucking the sheet tighter, she reached for the smallest of the ceramic mugs and set it down. Pain stabbed her head as she filled it up. “Mercy.” She felt hungover.

  She wondered how Bones felt as she hobbled to the table and pulled out a chair. She eased her stiff limbs into it and nursed her coffee. “Oh God,” she cried at the first taste. Like the devil’s piss! She set the cup down and put both hands over her face.

  Check the hospital records Pretty Winter.

  Pretty Winter.

  Her heart hammered as she realized that she was going to have to reckon with him tonight. Check the hospital records... She paused, wondering, “Which hospital?” As she thought about it, she couldn't help but feel played. What kind of stupid clue was that? She didn’t even know what state he was born in. Bones had said California, but did he really know? What part of Bones’ facts could be trusted? Or this X individual’s?

  What reason did they have to lie?

  A moment later she let out a single laugh. What reason did they have to tell the truth? What reason did they have to be three people in one body? No, not they, he. One man. One truly fucked up man.

  If he was right or telling the truth about being from California, she still had no clue what city. She’d have to search by name. And shit. Was Reginald Bones even his birth name? Was X or Executioner part of their real name? Reginald X Bones? Maybe X stood for something else. Well if it did, Bones didn’t know that. Or did he just not remember?

  She glanced at the clock, making her way out of the chair, gasping from pain as she went. She’d better hurry before Bones got back. X said part of their deal was that she couldn't tell Bones about him. She set her cup on the counter. And how would Bones feel about all of this? She still didn't even know how he felt about her. After their fight-fucking, maybe he hated her more. Maybe he wouldn’t even believe her.

  And would X really not give her the information she needed if she did tell Bones about him? She hobbled her way to the bathroom, her bladder making her go at an agonizing speed. Screw both of them. How would X even know if she told Bones? He'd said there were questions he couldn’t get answers to, from Reginald and Bones. That must mean he couldn’t communicate with them. But did that mean he couldn’t know things or find them out?

  He’d known something was up with Reginald and Bones, he’d said that much. And he knew she was the cause of it, but he'd seemed to guess it. Did he snoop around at night, poking at the day’s events like pieces to a puzzle? Clues? What a strange way to have to live, if that was the case.

  She needed some damn ibuprofen and a hot shower before taking on this shit.

  She spotted a robe hanging on the bathroom door as she relieved herself. Good, she didn't have to make a trip to the bedroom.

  Finishing her business, she stood and flushed the toilet.

  She dropped the sheet and turned to the shower, putting a hand on the tub before slowly leaning for the hot tap. Grunting, she fought to turn it on finding she didn't have the strength. She reached with two hands, trying again. "Oh my God," she whispered annoyed, pushing off the tub and looking around. She grabbed the bottle of shampoo and banged it on the handle several times then tried to turn it again. She nearly fell when it released its hold. "Booooones," she growled, climbing in. "Bet you tightened it like that on purpose."

  She finally closed the curtain and stood like a lump of misery, while the heavenly spray loved her up. Whatever she did about Bones and X, she’d need to do it carefully. The biggest reason she wanted to tell Bones about X was because he thought he was doing bad things at night. And well… technically he was, but… not like he imagined. Or remembered.

  She turned slowly, facing the hot water. A shudder rolled through her muscles, nearly making her swoon. A scary thought hit her and she sobered. What if X was bad? What if he had ill-intentions for her? For Bones? Was that even possible? Did personalities do that? Try to harm their host?

  She quickly finished washing up, dressing in some of his clothes again, ready to hit his computer while she could. Way too many questions and zero answers. That needed to change as quickly as possible.

  ****

  Bones shook his head, staring at the stereo sitting there on the shelf in the electronics department, right where it needed to stay. What the fuck did he need a stereo for? If Reginald was there Bones could see him considering
getting it. “You need to loosen up. Live a little, be more normal. This is a safe way to do that,” he’d say.

  Bones grabbed the box off the shelf and headed to the counter with it. His urges to buy odd shit were at an all-time high. Thank you, Reggie. Thank you for letting me be normal and take care of all your shit. You little prick.

  This was definitely his doing. If Reginald wanted to get out of all this, fine, why not just say so? Why be a fucking pussy and just up and leave?

  Bones paid for the stupid thing, tired of arguing with a dead man. Yeah, that’s right Reggie. Dead, I said dead. You got a problem with it? Too fucking bad, you’re not here, so it’s none of your business now.

  As he headed out of the electronics store, he slid his shades over his eyes, blocking out the blinding noon sun and any nosy eyes. The next stop would be the most torturous. A department store. But fuck if he was going to go another second with her sharing anything of theirs. She was far enough under his skin as it was. Like a stage four cancer, devouring everything in its sick, greedy path.

  She needed her own shit, her own space. Thomas’s brother, Clyde, was scheduled to start renovations on the shed tomorrow. He’d get her out of the air he breathed and away from their things. She’d said it herself. She was confused. This would clear her head. And his. He had enough shit to think about with Reginald playing hard to get, he didn’t need her distracting him. Her being around wasn't bringing Reginald back. If anything, it would keep him away. He wouldn’t be the cheating brother.

  God, how the fuck did she manage to do this to them? Why, why, why, did he let Reginald talk him into allowing her into their lives?

  “Why didn’t you listen?” Bones muttered, throwing the bag onto the truck seat and climbing in. “You just had to have her. Look what she did,” he grit, starting the engine.

  He met the gaze of a slim brunette climbing out of her car across from where he parked. She aimed the seductive tilt of her red lips right at him. Before his stomach could finish turning, an idea hit him.

  Out of sheer desperation, he put his hand out the window and called her over. She paused and pointed at herself and he nodded.

  She looked around and made her way toward him. Every step had his heart hammering in his chest just like it had when they were confronting Bushy Ben. Fuck what was he doing? Shit, what would he say?

  “Hi,” she said, stopping at his truck door. “How can I help you?”

  Bones licked his lips, glancing around when he felt the eyes of the world judging him. At finding nobody paying them any mind, he cleared his throat. “I, uh, need a maid. You know where I can hire somebody?”

  She tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled. “Can you tell me what sort of person you have in mind?”

  Ugh. Right. “Like you,” he forced out.

  The smile she gave turned his stomach. She'd definitely want the kind of payments he'd rather die than give. “When do you want this?”

  Ideas raced too quickly around in his head. He needed time to think. “Can I hire you for a couple of days?”

  “What kind of hours?”

  She put her forearms on his truck door, bringing the smell of sickening sweet perfume into his air space. He fought the urge to roll up the window a little. She was drop dead gorgeous by any man's standards, he knew. But Bones' brain was stuck on the drop dead part of that. “9-5.”

  “Nine at night to five in the morning?” She gave a stupid giggle, making her type of service clear.

  “Daytime.”

  Her gaze lowered to his neck. “Sure. Daytime is good for me. I’m in college,” she added, leaning in closer. “I couldn’t go at night anyway. I have classes.”

  He nodded. “When can you come? Start?”

  “I’m ready right now, if you need me.”

  She shifted on her feet like she needed the bathroom or something. “I just want you for cleaning, nothing else. Is that a problem?”

  She raised her brows then angled her smiling gaze catching on to some joke he wasn't making. “Not a problem at all.” She reached her hand inside the cab of the truck. “Sasha.”

  Bones regarded her fingers and nodded. “Bones. I live at Evergreen Cemetery.”

  Her blue eyes flashed with excitement and curiosity. “Sounds creepy.” She bit her lower lip making sure he knew she liked creepy.

  Bones’ cock jerked with old, dirty habits. “Yeah. So, I’ll see you in the morning?”

  “Sure thing. Do I need to dress for getting dirty?”

  Sick cunt. "Standard maid clothes are fine.” He visualized her in a short skirt with her dirty ass hanging out. Before he could clarify, visions of Winter's pissed face stopped him. “Whatever you’re comfortable wearing.”

  She tapped his truck door twice and stepped away. “You got it Bones.” She walked backwards and before he could warn her, she bounced off the car behind her. “Whoops,” she said, laughing a little and waving.

  Bones didn't wave back. Normal or not, he wouldn't. Couldn't. He put the truck in reverse and pulled out. What the fuck had he just done? He'd hired a whore to come be a maid, that's what. And why did he do that? To remind Winter that he wasn’t Reginald. He was Bones. And Bones wasn’t in love with her like his stupid, absentee brother was.

  THE NEXT CHAPTER

  “Shit, Shit,” she whispered, speeding through the links on the computer while keeping an eye on the window. It was nearing five o’clock. He’d have to be back at some point. With every minute that passed, she was even more sure he was pissed with her. But she wasn’t going to put up with his nasty attitude if that’s what he thought. Or get rid of her now that she was onto him and his… Reginald hiding. He was hiding Reginald. She was sure of that now and she was also sure that Reginald deserved to live in his body, live a normal damn life at that, as much as Bones did. Or didn’t. She still wasn’t even convinced Reginald wasn’t the rightful owner of that body, no matter what Bones claimed. Reginald could have forgotten during whatever trauma that caused the… split to begin with. Something at that institution, she’d bet. Ohhhh, that’s it!

  She typed mental institutions in California. “Holy hell,” she muttered, scrolling and scrolling and scrolling. So much for narrowing it down. All those people were crazy in the golden state.

  Notes, she needed notes. She looked around and opened the top drawer on her right. Shutting it, she yanked the second one open. She dug out a small note pad and plopped it before her, grabbing a pen from the tin can on the desk. She eyed it, wondering which of them would utilize an actual food can for writing utensils. Had to be a Reginald thing. She refocused her mind. What did she need to know?

  1. Where was Bones born?

  2. What institution was he admitted to? Why, how long, what happened, etc?

  She tapped her pen, already drawing a blank. Oh. X. Who was he? Why was he? And why did he only come at night? Like a vampire? She wrote that down.

  What kind of problem was this? She typed in personality disorders. Too bad she’d never finished anything in her life, then she might know more than just enough to know she didn't know nearly enough.

  The sound of a door made her heart leap into her throat. Shit, shit, fuck. Heavy boot steps thudded and she quickly x’d out of her pages, shut the laptop and ripped the paper out of the pad. Zipping out of the office, she barely shot into the bathroom and shut the door when she heard him enter the hall. “Bones?” she called out, fighting to catch her breath. “You back?”

  She opened the door and jumped at his towering frame and angry dark gaze before her. The sight of him and that hate filled glare scattered her to bits. “I was…”

  “I hired a maid until Reginald gets back,” he informed. “She’ll be here in the morning."

  His words added more haze to her stuttering brain. Wait a maid!? “I…I can clean.”

  “I don’t want you in here,” he said flatly. “Clyde's coming tomorrow to get the shed more livable. You can clean that.” He glanced toward his office and her heart thundere
d.

  “But I can work for free.”

  He swiveled those eyes back to her, fresh suspicion darkening them. “What were you doing while I was gone?”

  ****

  She reminded herself that she wasn’t going to cower to him or let him treat her like shit. She crossed her arms and leaned against the door- jamb. “Snooping.” She tossed her head toward the office. “I borrowed your computer to try and locate some answers.”

  “You know what? I don’t even want to know.” He turned and headed to the office and she followed him. “I don’t want your help with anything anymore.”

  “What do you mean?” He opened drawers as though searching for incriminating evidence, all the while she eyed his hard perfection in jeans and black t-shirt. “I didn’t take anything,” she muttered. “I borrowed a pen.”

  He turned to her and she braced, even with her tough girl resolve. He was so damn intimidating. “For?”

  Her heart hammered as she rolled her eyes. “To write notes.” The second she said it, she kicked herself.

  “Care to share?”

  “I thought you didn’t want my help anymore,” she muttered, fighting to keep her voice even as she leaned her shoulder on the door.

  “Just wondering what you’re up to.”

  “You say it like I’m up to something bad.”

  He slowly straightened and put his palms on the desk behind him, leveling that all-seeing gaze of interrogation on her. “You are.”

  “Oh geeze.” She rolled her eyes while wondering if he heard the loud crack in her composure.

  “You forget how well I can read you.”

  She fixed her gaze on his. “Oh yeah? And what are you seeing?”

  “Lies.”

  She shot out a laugh, shaking her head. “I haven't said anything to you.”

  “I can still see it.”

  “Good for you,” she mumbled. “And if I am, it’s for your own good, or because I’m trying to help.”

  “By lying. Sure.”

  She shrugged. “Lie, cheat, steal. Whatever it takes to do it.”