[Dinoysus]

CHAPTER IX

Ruger’s face was completely unreadable as I approached, and for one horrible moment I thought he might not talk to me.
“Hey,” I said, feeling nervous. Seeing him should’ve pissed me off or maybe even scared me. My body didn’t get the memo, though, because standing close to him mostly turned me on. I think his scent was a big part of it—nothing got to me like that hint of sweat and gun oil. He’d taken off his shirt, leaving only jeans, boots, and his cut. His tan told me he’d spent a lot of the summer that way.
Then I caught a glimpse of that panther tat disappearing down into his pants and I shit you not, it made me feel a little light-headed. All that blood rushing downward, you know?
“Hey,” he said. I tilted my head up to look at his face, reminded once again just how much physically larger he was than me. “So, we gonna f**k around here or just get to the point?”
“Um … Not quite sure I follow,” I admitted, still off balance. What woman would seriously be able to pay attention, confronted with a body like that? Ruger grunted, exasperated.
“You gonna follow my rules tonight?” he asked. “If not, you need to get your ass in your car and leave.”
“I’ll follow the rules,” I said slowly, eyes catching on his chin. He hadn’t shaved that morning, leaving just enough stubble to make a light burn on a girl’s skin. “On one condition.”
He raised a brow, clearly skeptical.
“And what would that be?”
“You tell me why you’re being so controlling,” I said, laying it out. The girls had been right. Either he was with me or he wasn’t, but one way or another I’d be taking charge of the situation. “Is it because you’re jealous and you want me to yourself, or because the Reapers are too dangerous?”
He studied me for a moment, his face thoughtful. Then he seemed to come to some sort of decision.
“C’mon,” he told me, and it wasn’t an invitation. He grabbed my hand and dragged me almost roughly across the courtyard, toward the large shop built against the back wall. Enclosed on three sides, the front was open to the elements, almost like a supersized carport.
Inside the air was much cooler, and it gave a sense of privacy. One half of the building held bikes in varying states of repair, including several that seemed to be little more than frames. Counters lined the back, and every tool imaginable hung from the walls. There were also some larger pieces of power equipment, including a huge drill press, a grinding wheel, and others I couldn’t begin to identify. A track had been mounted on the ceiling, with a rolling hoist hanging from it.
Filling the other side of the building were a panel truck and an old cargo van. The counters extended into that area, along with hooks for more tools. Ruger tugged me over between the van and the far wall. Despite the fact that the party continued a couple hundred feet away, we felt totally isolated. I thought about the warning I’d been given not to go off anywhere.
Did that apply to Ruger, too?
My gut instinct said I wasn’t safe with him right now … Not physically unsafe, of course. He’d never hit me. But I was pretty damned sure I’d be sorry I’d come in here with him.
Not that he’d given me much of a choice.
Ruger raised his hands, framing my face and studying me closely. He licked his lips, drawing my eyes to that ring of his once more as he stepped forward into my space, pushing me toward the van. It threw me off balance, and I stumbled. Ruger reached down and grabbed my ass, boosting me up and bracing me against the vehicle, my sex pressed to his, my br**sts flat against his chest. I reached around his neck and my legs gripped his waist for balance.
“You really want me to answer your question?” Ruger asked, his voice low and matter-of-fact. “Or you want to leave the party while you still can?”
I should leave.
I knew that. But his c**k was already hard against me and every bit of blood in my body raced downward, away from my brain. Self-preservation gave way to raw lust.
“I want the answer,” I whispered. Ruger smiled, and it wasn’t a nice smile. It was hungry as hell and utterly merciless, just like him.
“I’m jealous as f**k,” he said, his voice rough. “That’s not really my thing, but it’s the truth. I don’t much like the idea of some other man touchin’ your sweet ass, and if one of them tries to stick his c**k into that pretty little cunt of yours, I’m gonna cut it off. And, Soph?”
I caught my breath.
“Yes?” I answered, a thousand thoughts running through my brain. How did I feel about this? What should I say? The girls told me to lay down the law and stick to my guns. The look in Ruger’s eyes, though … That wasn’t the face of a man who was interested in respecting my limits.
Who was I kidding? I couldn’t even remember what those limits were supposed to be right now.
“I’m dead serious,” he continued, leaning his head down, scenting me. I felt it like a bolt of electricity, all the way through my body, right down to my toes. “Another man touches you, I’ll cut off his c**k and feed it to him. That’s not a threat, that’s a promise. And you f**k someone? He’s dead, Soph. Four years ago I made two serious mistakes. I didn’t protect you from Zach—I’ll regret that every day for the rest of my life. And then, because I felt guilty as f**k, I did the right thing and let you go.”
I closed my eyes.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“News flash, Soph,” he whispered. “It’s about f**kin’ time we talked about it, because it’s hanging between us and I’m tired of pretending it didn’t happen.”
I started squirming, trying to twist free. Everything in me screamed to run, because he was about to take us to the bad place.
“Stop,” Ruger ordered, his voice harsh. I kept squirming, so he pushed into me harder, forcing me to still. “We’re gonna deal with it, Soph. Deal and move on, because things are gonna change for you now. My mistake wasn’t touching you that night, and it sure as shit wasn’t making you come. The mistake was doing it without taking out Zach first. If I’d known … why didn’t you tell me?”
“I really, really don’t want to talk about this,” I hissed, trying to ignore his soft breath in my ear, the hard length of his c**k pushing against me. My ni**les were tight and my entire body screamed for me to open to him, but deep inside my brain lurked a cloud of darkness and fear that threatened to tear free with every word.
“I should’ve killed him for what he did to you,” Ruger said, eyes full of frustrated regret. “But then he was in jail and I didn’t want to do that to Mom, so I let him live. You left and I’ve hated myself ever since. I can’t go back in time, but I sure as f**k won’t make the same mistake twice. This time you’re not gettin’ away, Soph.”
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my hormones enough to think. Then it hit me. I should tell him the truth. If that wasn’t enough to convince him this was a lost cause, nothing would.
“It’s my fault,” I said, the familiar wave of self-disgust washing over me.
“Honey, Zach beatin’ the shit out of you was not your fault,” Ruger said, his voice like ice.
“No,” I said, looking him right in the eye. “It was my fault, Ruger. I planned it. When you starting kissing me—touching me—I knew Zach was coming over. He’d texted me, wanted to make sure I had food ready when he got there. I knew he’d catch us. He was so jealous of you, Ruger. Drove him crazy. I knew if he caught us together, he’d lose it. I wanted him to hit me hard, because then I could make it end.”
Ruger inhaled sharply.
“What the f**k are you talking about?”
“Zach had to leave bruises,” I whispered. “I was so scared all the time, Ruger. I never knew what he’d do. Some days he was great and things were fine, like they were before Noah. Then I’d drop my guard and he’d turn on me. I tried calling the cops, but he never left marks, so they wouldn’t do anything. He told me he’d kill me if I left him.”
Ruger took a deep, ragged breath and his eyes went dark.
“When you came over that day, I saw my chance,” I admitted, disgusted with myself. “This tension—lust, whatever the hell you want to call it—it was between us by then. I felt it every time I saw you. And you were so good with Noah, always coming around, fixing my car or mowing the yard for us. I’d bring you a drink and you’d look at me like you wanted to throw me down on the ground and f**k me until I screamed. You know what? I wanted you to do it. So I let it happen.”
Ruger gave a dark, harsh laugh that had nothing to do with humor.
“Yeah, babe, I remember that part,” he said. “Although we never did get to my happy ending, what with Zach comin’ home. You seriously telling me that was planned?”
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, my eyes filling with tears. “I knew seeing us together would drive him crazy. I knew he’d lose it. Noah was safe at your mom’s house. So I let him catch us and have his little pissing match with you. He took off, you took off, and I waited for him to come back and punish me, like always. But this time he was finally worked up enough to leave evidence—I made damned sure of it. I told him how much better you were than him. I told him I’d been f**king you all along. For a while I thought he might kill me, and you know what? It would’ve been worth it, just to make it end. You know the rest. He got arrested, I got my restraining order, and me and Noah were finally free.”
Rugers eyes narrowed as emotion rippled across his face. Anger. Outrage. Disgust? For a second I thought he might actually hurt me, he seemed so angry.
No, I realized. That was the difference between Ruger and Zach. Both men had tempers, but Ruger? Ruger would never hurt me.
Never. No matter what.
“He beat the shit out of you,” he whispered. “You almost died, Soph. Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve f**king killed him for you. You didn’t have to let it get that bad. You should’ve told me the first time he hurt you. I can’t believe this was happening and I was too f**kin’ stupid to see it.”
“Because he’s your brother!” I said to him, tears running down my face. “Your mother loved him, Ruger. What he did to me almost destroyed her. If you’d lost it, if you’d gone after him, you’d be in jail right now and your mom would’ve died alone and miserable. What kind of hateful bitch would I be if I let that happen?”
“You could’ve gone to one of those places for women,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t get it, Sophie.”
I gave a harsh laugh.
“Damned straight you don’t get it—it was his word against mine,” I said, willing him to understand. “I had no evidence, nothing. Sure, I could go to a shelter, but he’d still have a right to visit with Noah, maybe fight me for custody. You think I’d risk my baby alone with Zach? Nobody could help me until he took it up a notch, so I made it happen. I’m not an idiot. A woman who’s being controlled by a man can’t get shit for help unless she’s got evidence.”
“Those weren’t just bruises,” Ruger said. “Three broken ribs and a punctured lung are not bruises. And why the f**k do you think I would’ve gone to jail, hmm? Look at me, Soph. Do you think I’m the kind of man to do time when I don’t have to? He would’ve just disappeared. Poof. Problem solved. I dare you to look me in the eye and tell me there’s one f**kin’ reason that a man like Zachary Barrett should still be breathing, because I’m comin’ up blank. I nearly had him taken out while he was locked up, but I figured a dead guy couldn’t pay child support.”
I gasped, eyes wide.
“You’re serious?” I whispered.
“Yeah, Sophie,” he said, sounding almost tired. “I’m f**kin’ serious. Christ, I’m the first thing Noah saw in this world. I caught him with my own hands on the side of the road, babe, and then he opened those eyes and looked right at me. From day one, I can say with a clear conscious that there is nothin’—not a f**king thing—on this earth I wouldn’t do to protect him or you. How long?”
“What?”
“How long was Zach hurtin’ you before it all went down?”
I shook my head, looking away, trying to think.
“It wasn’t big stuff,” I said finally. “Not at first. He’d yell at me, make me feel like shit. Then he started doing it in front of Noah.”
His entire body stiffened, his jaw clenching spasmodically. I stared at his chin and forged ahead.
“I had to do something, Ruger. I couldn’t let my son grow up that way. And then you came over to help out with the water heater. I kept watching you and I died just a little bit inside, because I knew I was stuck with the wrong brother. Then you looked back at me and it all came together in my head.”
“Fuck me,” Ruger muttered, leaning his forehead down against mine. I was still wrapped around him, back against the van, enclosed in his arms and his scent. “You’re just full of surprises, now aren’t you?”
“Do you want me to move out of your basement?”
Ruger pulled back, frowning.
“I just told you I’ll kill any man who touches you and you think I want you to leave?”
“That was before I told you what I did. I used you.”
“Answer one question for me—total truth,” he said slowly. I nodded. “Was it real? Yesterday, when I kissed you, when I sucked on your tits and f**ked you with my hand? How about when I went down on you four years ago and you screamed my name? Before Zach found us and it all fell to shit. Was that fake?”
“No,” I whispered. “Aside from Noah, that’s the only part of those years I want to remember, because it was beautiful, Ruger. Whatever else happened, you gave me beautiful.”
“Well, f**k me,” he muttered. I felt his hands tightening on my butt, his hips tilting more firmly into mine, sending twinges of desire washing through me. I’d felt safe in his arms back then and I felt safe in them now.
That’s when it hit me. I didn’t just lust after Ruger.
I loved him. I had for years.
I tightened my arms around his neck, raising myself up to brush my lips across his. He didn’t respond, so I brushed his lips again, sucking the lower one into my mouth and nibbling on it.
That set him off.
One of his hands came up, fingers twisting in my hair as he took my mouth in a long, hard kiss, tongue punishing me in a mixture of anger and desire. I couldn’t blame him for whatever he might be thinking, because I’d used him and it was wrong. My arms tightened around his neck and I tried wiggling my hips, desperate for the friction of his c**k against my clit. He stilled suddenly, pulling back and looking down at me, eyes burning intensely.
“Serious mistake, babe.”
My eyes widened. My body ached for him, the rough leather of his cut torturing my ni**les. Every part of me yearned for his touch, which explained why my brain wasn’t working so well.
“There’s a lot of ways I could interpret that,” I said softly.
“You just admitted you’re mine,” he replied slowly. “I’ve been wonderin’ if I could take you—whether I should take you. I keep thinkin’ about Noah and whether it’s right for him, but now I get none of it matters, because you’re mine already. You’ve been mine for a hell of a long time and I just didn’t realize it.”
“I’ve worked hard to make my own life. I don’t belong to anyone.”
“How many men have you f**ked?” he asked bluntly.
“Excuse me?”
“Answer the question,” he demanded. “How many men have you f**ked? How many dicks have been in your cunt?”
“That’s none of—”
“Now would be a real good time to answer, babe,” he said, grinding into me deliberately. “Seein’ as I’m the one with the power here. This is my club. Whatever the f**k I do to you, they’ll cover my ass. Don’t push.”
I caught my breath.
“You won’t hurt me.”
“No, I won’t hurt you. Answer the f**kin’ question.”
“I’ve slept with three men,” I said. “Zach, a guy in Olympia, and another guy in Seattle.”
“And how was it?”
“What do you mean?”
“They make you come? You dump them or the other way around?”
“I dumped them,” I said slowly.
“That’s because you belonged to me,” Ruger said, satisfaction filling his eyes. “We f**ked around, wasted time, and you’ll never know how sorry I am about Zach. But I’m done now. You’re mine, Soph, and it’s about time we figured that out. I’ll let the club know and we’ll be finished with this bullshit.”
“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?” I asked. “Because I don’t think anything’s changed. We can’t afford to get involved and then have it go sour. Noah deserves better than that.”
“I’m not askin’ you anything,” he said, deliberately grinding his hips against mine. I groaned out loud. What the hell was it about this man that tied me up in knots? Maybe I had some sort of primitive hardwiring running the show, attracting me to a man strong enough to care for my child …
“I’m tellin’ you,” he continued. “You’re my property, babe. I’ll take damned good care of you and Noah. You’ll take care of me. But only one c**k goes into that pu**y of yours—mine—and that’s the end of it. Got me?”
I blinked at him, confused.
“I thought you weren’t looking to settle down?”
“I’m lookin’ to take care of you and Noah,” he said. “Neither of us wants to f**k up Noah’s life. But you know what? I’m good for Noah. It’s a fact. Boys need men in their lives and I love the crap out of him. We’ve been all twisted up in each other forever and now it’s all out in the open anyway.”
“I won’t be your whore,” I muttered. Ruger grunted, a touch of humor entering his eyes.
“Trust me, I don’t put this much time and effort into whores,” he said, his voice rueful. “Whores are nothing. You’ll be my old lady, my property. I know this is all new to you, but it’s a big f**kin’ deal in my world.”
I turned that over in my head, which was difficult, because he leaned down and started kissing my neck, boosting me higher so he could reach. Not his usual hard and brutal invasion … No, this was slow and seductive, and then he started sucking gently and I wanted to cry, it felt so good. I squirmed against him, my hips desperate for more stimulation, but he wouldn’t give it to me. Instead he nibbled along my chin before finding new places on my neck to suck and nip.
I heard the music from the party in the background, the sounds of people laughing and talking, but here in the cool darkness of the shop it felt like our own separate world. Ruger surrounded me with his smell and strength and the sheer, vibrant energy that defined him as a man overwhelming my senses.
No one got to me like he did.
He pulled me away from the van, carrying me across the shop without pausing in his attentions to my neck. I found myself laid back on the counter behind the panel truck, Ruger’s body covering my own. My hands clutching his head as he kissed down my throat, pausing every few seconds to suck, his fingers reaching between my legs to rub slowly up and down along the inside of my thigh.
I’d worn a black T-shirt with a V-neck, which proved no barrier to him at all. Ruger tugged the shirt up and flicked open the front clasp on my bra with disturbing speed. Then his mouth sucked in my nipple—the hard metal ball in his tongue almost painful—and my back arched up off the counter.
The hand between my legs unzipped my fly, and he lifted my hips just enough to slide off my cutoffs and panties. I felt the cool metal of the counter on my bare ass as Ruger’s roughened fingers rubbed up and down along my clit.
“Holy shit, that feels good,” I muttered, trying to wrap my brain around everything he’d said. This wasn’t the plan, not even a little bit. For one, I hadn’t planned on unpacking and sharing all that old baggage about Zach. Not now, not ever. The girls had told me to confront Ruger directly, set out my requirements and then stand up for myself.
Instead he gave the orders and I melted like a damned puddle all over a dirty bench in a shop.
What if someone walked in on us?
I’d opened my mouth to protest when Ruger pulled away from my breast, shoving his fingers into me hard at the same time. He dropped to his knees, lips finding my clit, and my brain shorted out completely.
His tongue flicked over my most sensitive spot, teasing me with the unholy combination of his soft tongue and that hard metal ball. Throw in the steady suction of his mouth and it was nearly enough to send me over the edge. Then his finger pressed deep, finding that perfect spot on my inside wall, sending shudders racking through my body. He kept up a steady pressure, rubbing back and forth as his tongue drove me slowly insane.
Then Ruger pulled away long enough to say, “Play with your tits.”
It didn’t occur to me to argue.
I moaned and reached up, taking my ni**les and rolling them between my fingers, pinching and tugging like he’d done the morning before. I’d held out against him then—I’d put Noah first, because any relationship between me and Ruger would be a disaster, and the fallout could leave us homeless again.
This time I wasn’t strong enough to say no.
There’s only so much self-control any woman can call upon before she melts. Mine was officially used up. Those fingers of his, rubbing across my G-spot, placing a strange, terrible pressure on me from within … That flicking tongue with its hard little knob … The strength of his shoulders as they supported my draped knees …
I wanted to squirm and kick and push against him. Instead, Ruger took his free hand and held it down across my stomach, controlling me. He drew me to the brink three times, utterly sadistic, and I hated him when he pulled away to catch his breath. Then I heard voices in the distance and reality broke through my haze.
There were people around—lots of people.
People who could walk into this shop at any minute. It didn’t even have a door. I opened my mouth to tell Ruger we needed to stop, but he chose that exact instant to suck me in again, hard, plunging his fingers deep. Instead of protesting, I felt my back arch as I exploded in a deep climax, trying my hardest not to scream, with mixed results.
Ruger stood up slowly between my legs, running his hands along my body, from my br**sts to my thighs, eyes full of dark satisfaction. I lay there, almost dizzy as he leaned over and caught my hands. He pulled them tightly over my head, whipping out his belt and wrapping it quickly around my wrists, securing them to something behind me.
The whole process took about thirty seconds—Ruger was a little too proficient at tying someone up for my comfort. I tugged my wrists, realizing it wasn’t just for show. He had me. Completely. My eyes widened. Ruger gave me a hard, feral smile as he unzipped his fly.
“Yeah, you’re mine now,” he muttered. “Don’t come until I say you can.”
I heard more voices, turning my head to look for them. Were they in the shop? I opened my mouth to protest, but Ruger reached up and put a finger over my mouth.
“Don’t start with me, Soph,” he said, his voice low and merciless. His hands reached down between us and then I felt the head of his c**k rubbing up and down along my clit, slow and deadly. Holy shit. Kimber hadn’t been lying—there was definitely something metal down there and it felt f**king fantastic.
Given that I’d already come, you’d think Ruger would be in rougher shape than me. Instead I found myself super-sensitized. If I’d thought his fingers felt good, they had nothing on his c**k sliding along my clit. He teased me until I hovered right at the edge again, eyes fixed on the hoist hanging from the ceiling. Then he leaned down, sucking my nipple in so hard it almost hurt, and sensation burst through me. I tried to wiggle my sex against his cock, but he held me pinned and immobile.
“You don’t come until I say,” he repeated, letting my nipple slide free, giving it a quick lick. “We clear?”
I nodded.
“Look at me,” Ruger demanded. I did, finding his face full of grim satisfaction. He slid his c**k up and down my clit again, one, two, three times. I grew wetter with every pass and for the life of me I couldn’t remember why I’d been against this.
Then he centered his c**k on my opening and pushed it in.

[Dinoysus]

CHAPTER X

RUGER
He slid his c**k into Sophie’s sweet pu**y as slowly as possible, savoring every inch. She was f**kin’ tight, like a clamp around his dick, the tug at his barbell making things just that much better. He could actually feel her heartbeat. If he didn’t know for a fact she’d given birth to a child, he’d think she was a goddamned virgin—hot and swollen and perfect.
Maybe he should’ve felt guilty, taking her like this.
She was all worked up emotionally, and vulnerable as hell. Understandable. Her little confession about Zach had floored him. He still couldn’t believe he’d been so blind, but he’d already decided one thing.
Next time he saw his stepbrother, he’d kill him.
As for Sophie … He’d f**ked up by not keeping a closer eye on her and Zach, and f**ked up even worse by letting the law step in to fix the problem. He hadn’t been ready to admit Sophie was his responsibility four years ago, despite what’d happened between them at Noah’s birth. He’d spent too long playing the good uncle, ignoring what he felt because he knew it wasn’t the best thing for her. She deserved to be free, and who was he to take that away from her?
Well, f**k that.
He was a jealous ass**le, and the thought of some other man’s c**k in her juicy little cunt … Picnic was right—he needed to claim her or let her go, and that sure as f**k wouldn’t be happening. Ever. Sophie might not be ready for a property patch, but that didn’t matter. He’d patched her a different way, with a ring of slowly purpling marks around her neck. His very own collar, branding her and declaring to the world that she had a man who owned her.
God, he loved the sight of her laid out on the bench, hands tied with his belt, tank and bra pushed high, boobs shaking every time he slammed home. Better than he’d ever imagined, and f**k, he’d spent a lot of time imagining her just like this. He tried to be careful, but when she started whimpering and convulsing around him it was too much. Ruger drove deep, loving the little scream she gave, blowing his self-control. Something primal and powerful broke free.
He grabbed her hips, digging his fingers into her ass. One hand slid closer to her rear and he thought, what the hell, sliding in his finger. She stiffened and shrieked, interior muscles convulsing around him so hard he had to stop and hold steady, trying not to explode on the spot.
That hadn’t been a shriek of pain, thank f**k.
Sophie stared at him with wide eyes, panting so hard her tits practically danced. It was f**king hot. He’d remember this moment as long as he lived. Ruger started moving again, savoring the clench of her muscles with every stroke, wondering if it was possible to die from pleasure.
Seemed pretty likely, all things considered.
He used his finger deep inside, and his hand on her hip, to control her position. He knew from her gasp that he’d hit exactly right. Now every stroke ground the rounded head of his barbell against her G-spot. Making a girl come while playing with her clit was fine, but he f**kin’ loved the way it felt if he got them off from the inside.
He wanted that from Sophie—total convulsion, total submission. She stiffened and moaned. Fucking close.
“Okay, baby,” he said, watching her face. She’d closed her eyes, head turned to the side, back arching as she strained toward him. He should’ve patched her years ago. What the f**k had he been thinking, missing out on this? “Blow around me, show me what that sweet pu**y of yours can do.”
In the background, Ruger heard voices, and knew some of the brothers had come into the shed. The thought of them seeing him like this, watching him brand Sophie, almost sent him over the edge. This wasn’t just about f**king her—although f**king her definitely kicked ass. No, this was about claiming her once and for all, and the more people who saw it, the better.
Ruger slammed into her harder, loving the little grunting noises she made with every thrust. He knew she was close, damned close, so he pulled out just enough to center his c**k head on her G-spot and started a series of hard, short, unrelenting strokes. She came with a scream, hips jerking and tits shaking. Her pu**y felt like a damned vise, and that did it for him. Ruger pulled out at the last second, spraying his come across her stomach.
Perfect.
She’d never been more beautiful—at his mercy, covered in his seed, and marked so that any man who saw her would know she was f**king owned. He wanted to tattoo his name across her ass and keep her tied up like this all day, ready and waiting for his cock.
Somehow, he doubted she’d be on board with that. Ruger bit back a grin. Sophie opened her eyes and looked up at him, dazed.
“Wow,” she whispered.
“No shit,” Ruger replied, wondering if any man in history had ever felt half as satisfied as he did in that moment. Probably not. He dropped a hand down to her stomach, rubbing his come slowly up her body toward her ni**les.
Yup, he was a pretty sick f**k, because even that turned him on.
Having an old lady wasn’t half bad, he decided. Not half bad at all.
SOPHIE
Holy shit on a stick. That was … unprecedented.
Ruger had asked how many men I’d been with and I’d told him three. But compared to him? I wasn’t sure the others even qualified. I’d never felt anything quite as good as what he’d just done to me. Not even close. Now he gazed down at me with lazy, hooded eyes, smug as all hell.
He deserved to be.
I grinned right back at him. Maybe this wasn’t such a huge mistake.
“Damn, she squealed like a f**kin’ pig,” a man’s voice said off to the right. I went from afterglow to pure horror in less than a second. Not only was I splayed on the counter, totally exposed, but my hands were tied up, too. I thrashed, trying to get free, hoping to hell they’d just heard me, rather than watched the whole show.
Ruger laughed, which was not an acceptable response. Not even a little.
“Fuck off,” he said, turning toward the three men who’d come up next to the van. He didn’t sound pissed, though. He sounded pretty damn pleased with himself. “This one’s mine. Go screw your own girl.”
The men laughed and wandered over to the far side of the shed to look at the motorcycles, as if they hadn’t just seen me getting publicly plowed.
Oh. My. God.
“Ruger, pull down my shirt and let me go,” I hissed. “Now.”
He reached down and straightened my bra and T-shirt, then tucked his c**k back into his pants. This wasn’t cutting it—I wanted my arms free and my shorts on. Now. Instead, he leaned down over me, standing between my legs, elbows braced on either side of my body.
“Okay, we got things clear now?” he asked. I glared up at him.
“What the hell are you doing?” I hissed. “Jesus, Ruger, let me go. I need to get on my clothes. I can’t believe they saw me like that.”
“Like you’ve got anything they haven’t seen before?” he asked, smirking. “You worry too much, Soph. These are bikers, they’ve seen people f**king. And it’s a damned good thing they saw, too.”
“How do you figure?”
“Because now they know you belong to me,” he said. “I was so f**kin’ worried about Noah, I didn’t figure it out until today.”
“Figure what out?”
“That this thing between us is already out there and it’s already real. We can’t make it go away. We’re together and we’ll make it work. Or we won’t. Sex is the least of it, though. This goes way past sex.”
Sudden hope hit me, then I shook my head, reminding myself not to be stupid. This was Ruger. I might love him, but I wasn’t blind …
“Are you saying you care about me?” I asked skeptically. “Like, really care?”
“Well, yeah,” he said, wrinkling his forehead. “I’ve always cared about you, Soph, no secret there. I mean, I f**kin’ held you on the side of the road while you pushed out a baby. Don’t wanna sound like a dick here, but the fact is not every guy would do that. Somethin’ happened that night. We pretended it didn’t for a long time. Now we’re done pretending.”
“You’re a giant slut,” I said flatly, hating the words even though they needed to be said. “I won’t be with a guy who sleeps around, yet here we are at a party where some random couple f**king in a shed doesn’t even hit the radar. You plan to keep it in your pants?”
His eyes were dark and cool, and I knew my answer before he even opened his mouth.
“I won’t bring anyone home,” he said. “Right now I can’t imagine wanting to f**k anyone but you. But this life, it’s about freedom. I became a Reaper so I could make my own rules. Not looking to put my dick on a chain and hand it off to some woman like it’s a damned puppy or something.”
Pain ripped through me, and I thought about what Maggs had told me.
Lay it out for him. Either he’s on board or he’s not.
Clearly, Ruger wasn’t on board, which meant this was one big, fat dead end. My missing sense of self-preservation finally kicked back in. God, I was such an idiot.
“You gonna untie that belt or what?” I asked, forcing myself to detach. Ruger and Zach might be very different men, but they had one thing in common. They both saw me as a thing to own, a possession. Ruger narrowed his eyes.
“Don’t get all pissy,” he said. “I’m not saying I plan to sleep around, but I don’t think—”
“Let me up, Ruger,” I said, my voice soft. “I need to put on my clothes and get cleaned up. Then I want to go visit with my friends and pretend this didn’t happen.”
“This happened.”
“Let me up.”
He scowled at me, but he reached over and loosened the belt. The instant my hands came free I sat up, pushing at his big, stupid chest to get him out of my way. I hopped off the counter and grabbed my panties and shorts, sliding them on. Then I started walking away. I needed to find a bathroom, clean myself up. He hadn’t even worn a f**king condom.
Shit. SHIT.
How stupid could I be? At least I was on the pill … No little brothers or sisters for Noah, thank God. Still, I’d need to get tested. Idiot. Thankfully, I knew he usually wore condoms—I’d certainly found enough of them around his house.
I’d talk to him about that later.
“Stop.”
I ignored him.
“Sophie, I said to f**kin’ stop,” he said, his voice harder. One of the men across the shed glanced up, speculation in his eyes. Great. I guess giving the locals the first show wasn’t enough. We were still on Ruger’s turf, though, so I’d follow his rules. For now.
“What?”
“We’re together now, you get that, right?” he asked. “I’m serious, Soph. You’re my property.”
“I’m my own property,” I said slowly and clearly. Time to make a break before things got even worse. “I didn’t plan for this to happen, but I have to give you credit. You’re pretty good at getting a girl off. I enjoyed every second of it. And I think you’re right about Noah, too. He needs a man in his life. But us actually screwing doesn’t really change anything—we’re not working out. That doesn’t mean he needs to suffer. You guys keep doing your thing together. I won’t get in your way.”
“The situation is finally working for the first damned time.”
I shook my head, resolute.
“Let me tell you what’s going to happen in the next few days,” I said. “I’m going to find a job, and then I’m going to find a cheap place to live. Get out of your hair.”
“That’s f**kin’ bullshit.”
“No,” I replied. “That’s reality. You want the freedom to sleep around. I’m not willing to give you that—I want more. Sounds like we have a fundamental difference of opinion here, and I’m not going to try to change you. But I’ll tell you one thing, Ruger—I deserve to be with someone who gives a shit about me, as a person. Someone who values me enough not to f**k other women. I’d rather be alone the rest of my life than settle for what you’re offering. Consider yourself a hell of a booty call, but that’s it. We clear?”
With that I walked away from him, hoping I didn’t look too much like I’d just gotten my brains screwed out.
Not that it really mattered.
As much as I hated to admit it, I probably wasn’t going to be seeing any of these people again anyway. So far as I could tell, women were only part of the club when they were attached to a man, and I considered myself officially detached. I’d be collecting my purse and my keys from the food table and then I’d be getting the hell away from the Reapers MC for good.
Too bad about the girls. I really liked them a lot.
“Holy shit, what happened to you?” Maggs demanded. She looked me over and burst out laughing. “Ladies, check this one out.”
I blushed, wishing I could disappear. So much for nobody guessing what I’d been up to.
“I see you and Ruger had your little discussion,” Dancer said, peering closely at me. “What the hell is he, a damned vampire?”
“What do you mean?”
“You have hickies all over your neck,” Em said, smirking. “Big ones. He did it on purpose—no way a person could do that by accident.”
Fucking ass**le.
“He is such a dick,” I muttered.
“And this is news?” Marie asked. “They’re all dicks. It’s sort of a defining characteristic of men, babe. You know, that dangly thing between their legs?”
“I’m going home,” I said. “I can’t take this.”
Maggs stopped laughing and put her hands on her hips.
“You are so not going home,” she said. “Absolutely not. Wasn’t this the plan? To figure out what he really wanted from you? Looks like he stepped up. Doesn’t mean you can’t stick around and have fun with your girls.”
“Oh, I know what he wants from me,” I muttered, feeling miserable. “He wants me to be his property.”
The women all squealed, and Marie tried to give me a hug.
“That kicks ass!” Em said. I shook my head, and they sobered, confused.
“He told me that if I sleep with another guy he’ll cut off his dick and feed it to him,” I said. “And then he told me he wouldn’t make any promises about not sleeping around himself. He did say he wouldn’t bring anyone home, so I guess I’m supposed to feel good about that? Um, no.”
“Ouch,” Marie muttered. “That’s not gonna work.”
“Nope,” Maggs replied. “Although I see where he gets it. Some of these guys, they f**k anything that moves. They have their old ladies at home, ass on the side, and everyone just pretends it’s not happening.”
“Why would anyone think that’s okay?” I asked. “I don’t get it.”
“I don’t get it, either,” Marie said. “But it’s not really my business, telling other people how to live. I know what I’d do to Horse, though. He’d be praying for death by the time I finished with him.”
“He would be,” Em added grimly. “Marie’s real good with a gun.”
“Yup, I’d shoot his dick right off, one inch at a time,” she confirmed. “And trust me, he knows it.”
“Well I don’t care how other people live,” I said. “If they want to let their men sleep around, that’s their business. But I’ll be damned if I’ll put up with it. Not good enough for me, and no way I want Noah growing up thinking that’s how you treat a woman. Ruger can take his offer, stick it on a fork, and shove it up his ass. Now I need to find a job and somewhere to live, because I’m sure as hell not living with him any longer.”
Maggs nodded, reaching into her back pocket and pulling out a tiny flask.
“It’s medicinal,” she said gravely. I twisted off the lid and took a quick sniff, which led to a sneezing fit.
“What the hell is that?”
“My own special mix,” she said, waggling her eyebrows. “Trust me, it won’t solve a thing, but you know what it will do?”
“What?”
“Distract you,” she said. “You’ll be too busy trying to put out the fire in your throat. Bottoms up!”
I took a swig. Damned if she wasn’t right.
Four hours later, my throat still burned from Maggs’ special medicine. I’d decided not to leave—the girls convinced me that I shouldn’t let him win by running away.
Making sure Ruger didn’t win was extremely high on my list of priorities.
The party was surprisingly fun. Maggs and I stuck together, seeing as both of us were man-free. She wore Bolt’s property patch so guys left her alone. I wore a ring of hickies that darkened and grew nastier as the night progressed, which may or may not have served the same purpose. It would’ve been totally humiliating, except I’d already decided I didn’t give a flying f**k about any of the Reapers or their sluts.
And there were a lot of sluts floating around, including Blondie from the kitchen. She gave me a nasty little one-finger wave. More showed up every minute, multiplying like rabbits. To be fair, most of them seemed like pretty nice people, but I was heavily invested in hating them.
I kept wondering which ones Ruger had f**ked.
The old ladies—there were about ten total—were a different group entirely. I liked them a lot and was sorry I wouldn’t be getting to know them better. Maggs and Marie must’ve spread the word about my situation, because nobody asked me any nosy questions. The girls kept me so busy I hardly had time to think about my humiliation.
I did learn a few interesting things, though.
For one, Maggs shared why Bolt was in jail. It was an ugly story. Apparently he’d been convicted of raping a girl who worked at The Line. We were sitting in a couple of camp chairs over by the playground, watching over the kids, when Maggs started talking about it so matter-of-factly that I thought I hadn’t heard her right at first.
“Um …” I said, desperately searching for some kind of response. What do you say when someone tells you her man’s in jail for rape?
“He didn’t do it,” she said, shrugging. “He got set up.”
I looked away, wondering how a woman who seemed so smart could be so stupid. Who stays with a ra**st? If he’d gone to prison, odds were good he’d done the crime.
“No,” she said, taking my hand and squeezing it. “I can see what you’re thinking. It’s not like that. I was with him when it happened, hon.”
“Didn’t you tell the cops?” I asked, eyes wide.
“Of course,” she replied. “But the girl ID’d him and there was another witness who said they got into a car together. They never tested the DNA, although we’ve got a lawyer working on that. He says it’s just a matter of time before we get him out. It’s not Bolt’s DNA, but the state lab is so far behind it takes a f**king miracle to get them to lift a finger. The cops said I was lying to cover for him. Made me look like a criminal and a whore on the stand.”
“Damn,” I said. “That’s horrible, Maggs.”
“Tell me about it,” she said, her face sober. “I love him so damned much. Bolt is a wonderful man. He’s done some crazy-ass shit, but he’s not a f**king ra**st, you know? But being a biker’s old lady? To the cops, that means you’re nothing more than a club puppet. My testimony meant jack shit by the time they finished with me. He’s up for parole in a year anyway, but I want his name cleared.”
“Why haven’t they processed the DNA?”
“Good question,” she said. “New excuse every day. Fucking prosecutors.”
Huh …
I didn’t know where to put that, so I fell quiet. What I didn’t do was get up or look away, because while I’d only met Maggs recently, I believed her. She wasn’t stupid and she wasn’t weak.
Scary to think the system could be so corrupt.
“They definitely screwed Bolt,” Marie said, plopping down next to us. “But the local prosecutors aren’t all bad. I got off on self-defense last year, after things went down with my brother.”
I glanced over at her, curious, but she seemed lost in thought. That story could wait for another day, I decided. If we had another day. The girls were being supportive, but whether they’d be friends long-term was iffy. I got the impression that once you left the club, you were out … and I was out before I’d even gotten in.
We settled in to talk about other, happier things as the sky darkened. By nine, the kids were all gone and things started getting wilder. The music went up and women’s shirts started coming off, none of which fazed my new friends. Then the guys started a big bonfire and broke out a fresh keg. Couples started disappearing into the darkness. I tried not to look too closely, afraid Ruger had already found someone new to screw. He was free to do whatever the hell he wanted. Didn’t mean I needed to watch.
That seemed like my cue to leave, except I still hadn’t talked to Buck about a job. The more I thought about working at The Line, the less realistic it seemed. Maybe I should just let it go … I mentioned this as I helped Marie, Maggs, and Em clean up the food tables. Dancer had taken her boys to her mom’s house a while ago and hadn’t gotten back yet.
“Why don’t you talk to Buck and decide after that?” Maggs suggested, piling half-eaten bags of chips into a cardboard box. “I’ll help you find him. Let’s get this finished first, though. All this shit needs to go into the kitchen.”
“Here, give me the box,” Marie said, reaching for it. “Sophie, can you grab that other one?”
“Sure,” I said, picking it up. Marie was really sweet—she’d spent half the night talking about her wedding, which was just three weeks away. She’d made it very clear that she wanted me to come, no matter what was up with Ruger.
Now I followed her into the Armory through a back door, leading past a set of bathrooms into the large kitchen area. It wasn’t anything special—not a professional kitchen. Still big, though, like you’d find in a church. Three fridges, lots of counter space, and a big, round garbage can that had overflowed onto the floor.
We both stopped, staring at it.
“Jesus, I cannot believe what pigs these boys can be,” she muttered. “Take the f**king garbage out when it’s full. Doesn’t take a genius.”
“You think we can handle it?” I asked, considering the can. It was packed hard and looked heavy.
“Only one way to find out,” she replied. We set down the food, stuffed in as much of the spilled garbage as possible, and then each grabbed a side. It wasn’t easy, but we wrestled it out through the kitchen and into the main lounge of the Armory, which I hadn’t seen yet.
“Holy shit,” I said to Marie, eyes wide. The place was full of men drinking and women walking around all but naked. There was a bar with a naked chick giving body shots. My eyes skittered away only to land on another girl whose head bobbed up and down over a man’s lap. He sat on a ratty couch, leaning back with his eyes closed, one hand wrapped tight in her hair.
“Just ignore it,” Marie muttered, rolling her eyes. “Bunch of dumbasses. The Dumpster’s out in the front, across from the parking lot. The geniuses who designed this place didn’t put in many external doors. Built to be a fortress. Annoying as hell.”
We lugged the garbage across the room, and I felt my cheeks burning. Then a man came up and grabbed the heavy can on my side.
“You girls should’ve asked for help,” he said, smiling at me. He was kind of cute, I realized. A little older—probably in his thirties. He had a long beard, tattoos (they all had tattoos, I figured it must be in the bylaws or something), and he wore a cut with one of those little diamond 1% patches. His name read “D.C.”
“Thanks,” Marie said brightly. “Grab the door for us, will you, Soph?”
I opened the big main door leading out into the front parking lot. There were more guys out there, sort of standing around—the guys I’d seen earlier, who didn’t have very many patches on their vests.
“Prospects, get your asses over here and take care of this garbage,” D.C. yelled, and two of them jumped up to grab the can.
“It needs to go back in the kitchen when they’re done,” Marie told D.C.
“No prob, babe,” he replied. “Who’s your friend?”
Marie and I exchanged glances. I could tell she didn’t want to introduce me, but neither of us wanted to be rude, either.
“I’m Sophie,” I said, taking the pressure off her. “I’m just visiting. In fact, I’m heading out soon.”
Marie opened her mouth to add something. Suddenly a giant man came up behind her, swinging her up and twirling her around before throwing her over his shoulder.
Horse.
“I need f**ked, woman!” he declared, smacking her ass. Then he carried her back into the building as she shrieked in protest.
I suddenly found myself alone in the dark with D.C. and the prospects. None of the younger guys looked me in the eye, and I thought very hard about the warnings I’d been given earlier.
Yup—I was in the negative on every detail.
“Nice brands,” he said. He reached up to trace the stupid hickies Ruger had given me. “You belong to someone?”
Now that was a loaded question.
“It’s complicated,” I replied, glancing around. I don’t know what I was looking for. Kimber would know what to do at a time like this, I thought darkly. “I need to get back inside, find the girls. I’ll just … go over there,” I added, nodding toward the big gate in the wall to the side of the building. The gate I’d come in before. No way I would be walking back through that clubhouse by myself, not after what I’d seen in there.
“I’ll take you,” D.C. said, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and tucking me in tight next to his body. I smelled booze on his breath.
Shit. SHIT. SHIT!
“Hey there!” Em yelled, waving at me from the gate. I’d never been so happy to see someone in my life. She walked over to us, her smile bright and sweet. “Thanks for finding Sophie, D.C. I need to get her back now—Ruger’s up next in the ring, and he’ll be super pissed if she misses his fight. They live together, you know.”
D.C. let me go and I ran over to Em. He frowned at me.
“Told you it was complicated,” I said, my voice wavering. “Sorry?”
He snorted as he turned and walked back into the Armory, slamming the door behind him. The remaining guys looked everywhere but at me and Em.
“Jesus, I could kill Marie for leaving you with him,” Em muttered, grabbing my arm and dragging me across the parking lot toward the gate. “At least she yelled at me to go get you as Horse carried her past. Never leave a sister behind, you know? That could’ve gotten ugly.”
“Um, she didn’t really have much choice,” I said. “Horse just grabbed her and carried her off. It happened really fast.”
“All Horse thinks about is sex,” Em snapped, her voice heavy with a mixture of disgust and what sounded suspiciously like jealousy.
“At least Marie sent you out here,” I said. “Would he have hurt me?”
“Probably not,” she said, her voice smooth. “But odds are good he’s drunk. You get a guy drunk enough, he doesn’t always hear the word ‘no.’”
“Does that happen?’
“Rape?” she asked, bluntly. I nodded.
“It’s not supposed to,” she said. “It’s not like it’s considered okay or anything, but I’m sure it’s happened here. It happened in my college dorm, too. Anytime you put people together, some of them are going to do horrible things. And you get enough horny men drinking enough alcohol, it can lead to bad shit. I’ll tell you one thing—I feel safer here than I have at some frat parties. Reaper parties might get wilder than college ones, but we have rules and trust me, they’re enforced.”
“And you grew up around this?” I asked. “Wasn’t that … scary?”
“I grew up with twenty uncles,” Em said, smiling brightly as we passed through the gate. She raised a hand to the guys standing there and they all waved back. Clearly, Em was loved. “All of them would’ve done anything for me. I had aunties all over, too, and a bunch of kids to play with—kids I’d known all my life. You saw how many children were here earlier, and they were all having a great time. Of course, we send them home before things get too crazy.”
“And what age did you start staying later?” I asked. She rolled her eyes and shrugged.
“Dad told me to leave about half an hour ago,” she admitted. “He doesn’t want me to grow up. Not that any guy here would lay a finger on me. That’s the thing—this is a family. Family takes care of each other.”
“And all these women running around?” I asked. “That D.C. guy wasn’t interested in me as family.”
Her face fell, and she sighed.
“You aren’t family,” she said softly. “I mean, you’re Ruger’s family and you’ll be treated with respect—D.C.’s not from around here, and he had no idea who you were—but if you’re serious about not being Ruger’s property, you’ll never be a real part of the club.”
“Would you hate me if I told you I don’t want to be part of the club?”
“I get it,” she said, sighing. “Believe me. I just wish it could be different for you guys. I wouldn’t settle for what Ruger’s offering either, though. No f**king way. You want to get out of here? My dad’s gonna see me sooner or later, so I might as well bug out now.”
“Yeah, I really do,” I told her.
“Let’s go watch a movie or something,” she said. “You can come over to my place if you like. We have a killer home theater setup.”
“Um, that sounds good,” I replied, sort of surprised. “You know, it’s funny. I don’t think of a motorcycle club president as being the kind of guy who’d have a home theater.”
“I’ll bet you wouldn’t think he’d have a virgin daughter, either,” she said, regaining some of her humor. “Fuck this, let’s go. Last time they had a party this big, I walked in on my dad screwing this chick I graduated with. It was disgusting.”
Back out in the courtyard, a circle had formed beyond the bonfire. People cheered, yelled, and groaned every few seconds.
“What’s that all about?” I asked, craning my neck.
“Fights,” Em said shortly. “That’s what happens when you have too many penises concentrated in one place. Oh, and I wasn’t kidding when I said Ruger was up next—he’s out there right now. For some reason they think it’s fun to hit each other. Let’s find Maggs. Maybe she’ll come watch movies with us.”
I laughed, then spotted Maggs. She stood near the fire, staring deep into the flames. I walked over to her but she didn’t look up.
“You okay?”
She sighed and crossed her arms, frowning.
“Peachy,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’m just sick and f**king tired of being here without my man. The club’s great and all, but it’s not like having Bolt in my bed.”
I wasn’t quite sure what to do, so I hugged her. She hugged me back. I really wanted to stay friends with these women, despite the whole Ruger situation.
“Hey, you want to come and watch movies with me and Em?” I asked. “I’m sick of Ruger, Picnic says Em has to leave, and you’re lonely. Sounds like God himself wants us to get out of here and eat some chocolate ice cream.”
She snorted.
“Ice cream’s no substitute for a man,” she said wryly.
“We can have whipped cream on it,” I said, waggling my eyebrows. “You can pretend you’re licking it off him instead of the spoon.”
“You’re a dork,” she replied, but she smiled.
“I know,” I said cheerfully. “But I’m a dork who knows her refrigerated toppings, and that’s mission-critical tonight. Let’s go.”
“I want you to meet Buck first,” she said. “You need to ask him about a job.”
I frowned. Did I really want to work at a strip club—especially one owned by the Reapers? Didn’t seem like the best way to distance myself …
“You don’t have to decide tonight,” she said. “Just talk to him, and then we’ll get back to what’s really important—ice cream and chick flicks. A sad one, please, because I’m definitely in the mood for a good cry. Let’s just talk to him, okay?”
“Not like you have anything to lose,” Em added, coming up beside us. “Find Buck, then we’ll ditch this place. I’m ready for a three-way with Ben and Jerry.”
Maggs took my hand and pulled me toward the crowd surrounding the fighters, Em trailing us like a puppy. I couldn’t see much of the fight, what with the wall of bikers cutting us off, but Maggs wormed her way through them like an expert. Soon we stood on the edge of the “ring,” which was just a line traced in the dirt. She was looking around for Buck, but the sound of a fist hitting flesh caught my full attention.
Ruger stood in the center of the circle, naked to the waist, hands bare, expression hostile. He was facing off against a man I didn’t know. He looked a little younger than Ruger, and based on the blood dripping down his face, Ruger was kicking his ass.
Em stumbled to a halt next to me.
“What the hell does Painter think he’s doing?” she muttered. “I can’t believe he’s fighting Ruger. That’s f**king stupid.”
“Why?” I asked, eyes glued to the men circling each other. I could see the top half of Ruger’s panther tattoo above his jeans. It really was perfect for him—every movement was lithe and smooth and utterly predatory.
“Ruger’s really good,” Em said shortly. “He’ll slaughter Painter.”
“Is that the one …?”
“Yeah,” she said, her voice grim. “That’s him. The guy who won’t put out for me. I hope Ruger kicks his ass.”
Ruger chose that moment to plow his fist into Painter’s stomach, and the crowd roared. Painter gasped but he stayed upright, recovering surprisingly fast, at least to my uneducated eye.
“He’s over there,” Maggs said, grabbing my arm again. I looked at her blankly.
“Who’s over there?”
“Buck,” she said. “You wanted to talk to him about a job, right?”
“Oh, yeah,” I said, forcing myself to look away from the circling boxers. What kind of idiots fought like this on purpose? Maggs dragged me through the crowd some more, coming to a halt next to a big man watching the fight with his arms crossed. He didn’t look too happy.
“Hey, Buck,” Maggs said brightly. He glanced down at her and raised a brow. I swallowed.
“Um, we can do this a different time,” I leaned in and whispered to Maggs. “He doesn’t look like he’s in a good mood.”
“He’s just like that,” she said. “Right, Buck? You’re always kind of a dick, aren’t you?”
The big man actually smiled.
“And you’re always kind of a bitch, but I like you anyway,” he said. “You ready to ditch Bolt’s ass and f**k a real man?”
“I think Jade might have a problem with that, and she’s a helluva good shot.”
This time the smile reached his eyes.
“That’s the f**kin’ truth,” he said. “God, but she can be a bitch. Never boring. So who’s this?”
“This is Sophie,” she said, jerking me forward. From the ring I heard the crack of flesh hitting flesh, and saw Painter staggering in the corner of my eye. Ruger circled him like a cat playing with its food. I forced myself not to pay attention, focusing on Buck instead. Talking to him couldn’t hurt.
“Sophie’s looking for a job,” Maggs added.
“Dancing?” he asked, raising a brow. His eyes crawled down my figure, assessing me closely in a new way—all business now.
“I want to waitress,” I said. “I’ve waited tables in bars before. Never a strip club, but I’m a hard worker. I hear it’s a good place to work.”
He studied me, face thoughtful.
“You belong to anyone?”
Maggs and I looked at each other, and I shook my head.
“Not really,” I answered.
“What the f**k’s that supposed to mean?”
“She—”
“Shut up, Maggs,” he said, although his tone wasn’t mean. “She can’t talk for herself, she’s got no place in my bar. So what’s the story, you belong to someone or not?”
There was a sudden flurry of activity between the fighters, a series of fast blows that I couldn’t quite follow in my peripheral vision. Based on the crowd’s reaction, things were getting interesting.
“You this slow takin’ drink orders?” Buck asked. “’Cause I don’t need a slow waitress.”
“Sorry,” I said, gathering myself. “Ruger is my son’s uncle.”
“He give you that ring around your neck?”
“Um, yeah,” I said, grimacing. “And I live with him. Nothing between us, though. I just really need a job.”
Buck eyed me speculatively, then glanced at Maggs. She smirked and rolled her eyes. Buck nodded slowly, then leaned over to the man next to him.
“Hundred bucks on Painter?”
The man stared at him, brows raising.
“You f**kin’ insane?”
“Nope,” Buck said. “We got a bet?”
“Sure, I’ll take your money. Kid’s almost finished.”
Buck turned back to me.
“Show me your tits,” he said.
My eyes widened.
“I’m not looking to dance,” I said quickly. “Just wait tables.”
“Yeah, I get that,” he replied. “But I need to make sure you’ll fill out the uniform right. You can leave your bra, but lift that shirt if you want a job.”
I glanced at Maggs, who nodded reassuringly.
“Don’t worry,” she said, bright eyes darting between me, Buck, and the men fighting. “You need a decent rack to waitress at The Line. Go ahead, nobody will care.”
I took a deep breath, reached down, and pulled up my shirt all the way.
Two seconds later I heard a huge crash. Suddenly Ruger was between me and Buck, fist slamming into his face. Buck went down and Ruger followed, pounding him brutally.
I screamed as Maggs jerked me to the side, both of us ducking our heads and huddling together. Three guys jumped on Ruger, pulling him off Buck. He fought against them, cussing and growling. Picnic appeared, followed by Gage, who carried a bat.
“Shut the f**k up, everyone,” Picnic yelled. “Ruger, pull your shit together! You’re out of the ring, you forfeit. Now stop thinkin’ with your dick, jackass.”
“Let me go,” Ruger growled.
“You gonna pull your shit together?” Gage asked. Ruger nodded tightly and the guys let him go. Gage reached down to Buck, giving him a hand up. “We got a problem here?”
Buck spat out some blood and grinned, the bright red outlining his teeth horrifically and dripping down his chin. He looked like a serial killer.
“It’s all good,” he said, licking his lips. “Asshole just won a bet for me. Too f**kin’ easy.”
Then he glanced at me, still crouched next to Maggs, utterly stunned.
“No job,” he said. “Got enough bitch drama at the bar already. At a fight, though? Perfect. Ruger always wins, f**kin’ beautiful moment. Thanks, sweetheart.”
“Um, okay,” I said quickly. “I think I’d do better working somewhere else anyway.”
Ruger glared at me, chest heaving, his entire body covered with a sheen of sweat.
“You asked him for a job?” he demanded, grabbing my arm and jerking me through the crowd. I tried to break away, but he didn’t even notice.
“Let me go!”
Ruger dragged me over to the courtyard wall and pinned me up against it, putting a hand on either side of my head as he got down into my face.
“What part of this is so f**kin’ complicated?” he asked, as angry as I’d ever seen him. Well, almost … “You don’t just go around flashing your tits. It’s not a difficult concept, Sophie.”
“Maggs said he needed to check me out for the waitress job,” I told him quickly. “She said it wasn’t personal, not a big deal at all.”
Ruger’s eyes darkened.
“When a man asks to see a woman’s tits, it’s always personal,” he said slowly and clearly. “And yours belong to me. No f**kin’ way I’m letting you work at The Line. And keep your damned shirt on. Christ, it’s like I’m talkin’ to myself half the time.”
“No worries,” I said, not bothering to argue. Pointless. “I’ve had enough of this club, I’m leaving. Em and I plan to watch movies and eat ice cream.”
Ruger stilled, then reached out and brushed my hair behind my ear, his touch gentle. I felt myself relax a little. Maybe he wasn’t as angry as I’d thought. Then his fingers slid deeper into my hair and his eyes hardened.
His hand tightened painfully as he jerked my mouth into his. His tongue stabbed deep into my mouth, possessive and dominant. His other hand caught my arm, jerking my body forward into his as he twisted it up and behind me. One knee shoved between my legs, and he slanted his head, taking everything he wanted and more.
My body loved it, the faithless bitch.
The fight had left him sweaty all over, sending out pheromones so strong it’s a wonder I could still stand upright. I wanted to wrap my arms around him but he held me too tight, controlling every move.
I was starting to sense a pattern with Mr. Don’t-Come-Until-I-Tell-You.
Finally he pulled away, both of us gasping for breath. He still held me tight, completely incapable of movement even if I’d wanted to get away, which I didn’t. My brain had checked out a while back. His hips ground into me, c**k more than ready to finish things off.
“You belong to me,” he said, voice harsh.
“Ruger—” I started, but a sudden, loud, feminine scream tore through the air.
Ruger dropped me and spun around, covering me with his body as he scoped out the situation. The screaming continued, and then I heard a roar of masculine rage. In the dim firelight I saw a man tear across the courtyard, with about ten more guys chasing him. He hit the far wall, jumped high and caught the top with his hands, pulling himself over.
“Holy shit,” I muttered.
“Stay out of the way,” Ruger said, turning to me. His eyes were deadly serious, and for once I had every intention of doing exactly what he said. “I’ll send one of the girls over, then you get the f**k outta here. Walk to your cars together. Got me?”
“Shouldn’t we call the cops?” I asked as the screaming died down. Now I heard crying and angry shouting. “Someone’s hurt. What the hell is going on?”
“No idea what happened,” Ruger replied. “We’ll get help, no worries. But don’t call the cops. We handle things ourselves, within the club. Do what I say for once and wait for me to send someone over. Then go home and stay there. I can’t deal with this and worry about you, too.”
I nodded and he kissed me hard, then ran off toward the Armory gate. In the distance I heard bikes roar to life and then a gunshot. I slid down the wall and sat, knees drawn up tight against my chest, and did my best to obey Ruger perfectly.
Maggs came over ten minutes later. Her face was grim and she had streaks of blood on her arm. I stood and threw my arms around her, clutching her tight.
“What happened?” I whispered.
“Fucking Toke,” she muttered. “There’s some sort of club shit going down. They voted on it today, supposed to be a done deal, but Toke—he’s out of Portland—had a few too many beers and decided there should be a recount. He started fighting with Deke and pulled a goddamned knife, waving it around like a jackass.”
“Who was screaming?” I asked. I pulled away and looked down at her arm. “You’re all bloody. Who got hurt?”
Her eyes hardened.
“Em,” she said. “Cocksucker caught Em with his knife.”
Shock hit me and I felt myself sway.
“Did anyone call an ambulance?” I asked, glancing around the courtyard. Beyond the fire I saw someone sitting on the ground, surrounded by women.
“She’s fine, thank God,” Maggs said, her voice harsh and angry. “It’s not a bad cut at all. We’ve got a guy who’ll give her a few stitches, keep the whole thing off the radar.”
“What about that gunshot?”
“Pic wasn’t too happy about his baby girl getting cut,” she said, which I figured was a bit of an understatement. “Had to be him. Toke took off, right over the wall, and I’ll bet he’s setting a new land-speed record right now. If he’s smart, he won’t stop ’til he hits Mexico. Em’s a special girl, everyone loves her. Not to mention pulling on his own president. This is more than a fight—it’s club business. Toke just stepped in a giant, steaming pile of shit.”
I shivered.
“Let’s go,” Maggs said. “They want all the girls cleared out. Marie and Dancer’ll stick with Em, but the rest of us are no longer welcome. We need to stay out of the way. Hell, at this rate we’ll be posting bail … Be sure to sleep with your phone tonight.”
“You serious?” I asked, eyes wide.
“If Pic catches Toke, shit’ll get ugly,” she said. “But don’t worry—our boys are smart. They’ll keep the situation under control.”
“And the bail thing? That was a joke, right?”
“Just keep your phone close, okay?”
Holy hell.

[Dinoysus]

CHAPTER XI

My hands shook so hard I had trouble getting the keys into the ignition. Maggs offered to follow me home but I wanted to go by myself. I had a lot to think about and I didn’t feel like company. Clearly, Ruger and I had different definitions of what normal, appropriate behavior looked like.
For one, I felt that long-term relationships should be monogamous. He felt they should be monogamous for me and open for him. Another issue? My parties usually wound down when people ran out of food and got tired.
His occasionally ended with stabbings and high-speed chases.
And last, but certainly not least, I tended to think sex should be private. He liked rubbing his sperm on my stomach in front of his friends after branding me with hickies.
I needed to move out.
Immediately. No more messing around.
The more I thought about what had happened, the angrier I got. Em could’ve been killed. I might already have a f**king STD, seeing as I screwed the King of the Man-whores—condom-free—in a damned shed, because I’m classy like that. Oh, and what’s-his-name might’ve raped me in the darkness, just because I’d had the nerve to take out the trash when it needed emptying.
What the hell was wrong with these people?
Two hours after pulling into Ruger’s driveway, I’d nearly finished packing up our stuff. We’d only been at his house for a week, so it wasn’t exactly hard. I just threw shit into boxes and then hauled them out to my car. I could probably get it all in one trip, seeing as Noah was still at Kimber’s. I’d call her first thing in the morning and ask if she could put us up for a couple of days.
Fuck Ruger. Fuck his beautiful house and f**k the Reapers. Fuck their motorcycles, too. I hoped they all got food poisoning at one of their damned pig roasts.
I’d already finished packing my clothes, the living room, and the bathroom by the time I heard Ruger’s bike pulling into the driveway. Well, wasn’t that just craptastic … I’d planned to be gone before he got home, but if he wanted a fight, I’d give him one. I might not have my life entirely together, but I was pretty sure about one thing—parties that ended with stabbings weren’t part of the long-term plan.
Neither was being tied to a man in prison, working as a stripper, or worrying about whether or not I was safe without a goddamned brand across my back like a f**king cow.
I’d started throwing Noah’s clothes into the suitcase when Ruger’s boots thudded down the stairs. He paused in my kitchen and I heard the sound of water filling a glass. So, now it wasn’t good enough for him to put me in danger and invade my privacy? He had to get my glasses dirty, too? I threw Noah’s stuffed dragon, Puff, into the case with a disgusted thud.
Wait.
Why the f**k should I care where he got water?
I wouldn’t be here to wash the damned dishes. Wasn’t my house. The ridiculousness of the night, the horrible way the party ended, packing to move God-knew-where at three in the morning—it all hit me at once. I grabbed Puff and slid down next to the bed, laughing at my own craziness.
Why had I ever, for even a second, thought we could live in Ruger’s basement?
I laughed as Ruger walked down the hall. I laughed as he came in the room, and I kept laughing when he knelt down in front of me. I ignored the waves of frustrated anger rolling off him because I just didn’t give a damn. He reached out and caught my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. They cut through me accusingly—like he had the right to an opinion?
I stopped laughing and gave him my most evil smile.
“What the hell is going on here?” he asked.
“I’m packing,” I told him, holding up the dragon for him to see. “We’re leaving. I’m not your whore and Noah’s not your son. Your club is insane and I don’t want a damned thing to do with any of you.”
“Do you remember when I said coming to the party was a bad idea?” he asked me, raising a brow.
“Yeah, I remember that,” I snapped. “But you know what would’ve really driven the point home? Mentioning that when your parties get wild, girls get stabbed … Because I’m pretty sure we didn’t cover that part. I would’ve remembered, Ruger.”
“She’ll get her justice,” he said, eyes darkening. “Toke will pay. Deke and Picnic are on it.”
“Um, hate to break it to you, but Em doesn’t need justice,” I pointed out, voice heavy with sarcasm. “She needs to not get cut with a knife in the first place. Women are finicky that way—we like not getting cut.”
“It was a horrible accident,” he said slowly. “And despite whatever crazy shit you’re imagining, it’s not something that’s ever happened before.”
“You’re telling me with a straight face that you never have fights at your clubhouse?”
“No,” he said, speaking slowly and clearly. “I’m telling you that they don’t usually involve innocent women. Two men want to fight, that’s their business.”
“And what about women who aren’t so innocent?” I asked. “Where do you draw the line on that one? Do you like to hit girls, Ruger? Is that okay in your stupid club?”
The air changed between us, growing cold. Oh, that got to him … A whole new level of angry rolled into the room between us, and I suddenly realized taunting him might not be such a great idea.
“Don’t talk about the club like that,” he said, face like stone. “Show respect if you want to be treated with respect. And you know what? Damned straight I’d hit a woman, if she hit me first. I’m not a knight in shining f**king armor, Sophie. What part of this don’t you get? I’ve been honest with you all along, no bullshit. And yeah, a woman who attacks a man deserves what she gets. She wants to act like a man, she can damned well fight like one.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?” I asked him. He shook his head.
“Not a bit. You want equality, babe? That’s equality.”
“Yeah, you’re practically a feminist,” I muttered. “Em wasn’t fighting, Ruger. She’ll have a scar the rest of her life. And how is it women have equality when it comes to taking a hit but the rest of the time they’re just some guy’s property?”
“Stop talking shit about things you don’t understand,” he growled. “‘Property’ is a term of respect. It’s part of our culture. You start judging us for that, you better start judging every woman who changes her name the day she gets married, because it’s the same damned thing.”
He stopped, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated.
“When you’re someone’s property, you’re a woman the brothers will die to protect,” he continued, his voice softening. “They’ll die to protect your kid, too. Don’t turn that kind of loyalty into something ugly because you don’t like the words we use. Dancer, Marie, Maggs? They’re proud to be property, because they know what it means. Nobody forcing them to do anything.”
I swallowed, processing that.
“So tell me this,” I asked. “Why did Horse tell me that Marie’s ‘worth every penny he paid for her’? Because that sounded a little f**ked up, and I don’t think he was joking.”
“You’re at the clubhouse for less than a day and you’ve already heard about that?” he muttered, almost to himself. “Jesus. A little f**kin’ discretion would be nice.”
“Yup, don’t want to scare away the new girls with reality, do we?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he replied. “Marie and Horse are fine, and they’re getting married next month, so I think it’s a moot point.”
“Holy shit, did he really buy her?” I asked, eyes widening. “Ruger, that’s—I don’t even have words for that!”
“Good, maybe you’ll shut up,” he said. “If you’re interested, I have an update on Em for you. You know, your friend you’re so worried about? Maybe a little more important than lecturing me about women’s rights, ya think?”
I froze, shamed. Ruger was right. I’d been more focused on fighting with him than on Em. How shitty was that?
“Yeah, I’d like to hear how she’s doing,” I said. I tossed Puff to the side and rose to my feet. He stepped forward into my space, doing that intimidation thing he was so good at. “So how is she?”
“She’s fine,” he said after a long pause. “It wasn’t much of a cut. About three inches long and not deep at all. We got a friend of the club who came by, gave her some stitches to make sure she stays all pretty when it heals. Antibiotics, just to be careful. Last I saw her, she was high as a kite on oxy and singing some kid song about kittens and mittens. Picnic’s not feelin’ quite so festive, gotta admit.”
“That’s good news,” I replied, staring at his chest blankly. He really was way too close. “I got a text from Maggs an hour ago, but I wasn’t sure if she was downplaying things or not. I don’t like your parties, Ruger.”
“First part wasn’t half bad,” he said slowly, a knowing smile stealing across his face. “You know, in the shed?”
He reached out and touched my neck lightly, then wrapped his fingers around it.
“My marks look good,” he continued. “Might keep ’em on you long term, haven’t decided yet. But you need to learn not to flirt with other guys, babe. You’re claimed now.”
“One, take your damned hand off me, because I am not claimed,” I said. He ignored me. “And two, I didn’t flirt with anyone!”
“You flashed your tits at the whole damned club,” he said. His hand tightened ever so slightly on my neck. Not hard enough to hurt—just enough to show he could.
Oh, I didn’t like that at all …
“Take. Your. Fucking. Hand. Off. Me,” I growled. This time he did, but at the same time he pushed me forward with his body, unbalancing me. I fell back on Noah’s bed, almost hitting my head against the wall. Before I could roll away, Ruger dropped down over me, trapping me just as surely as he had back in my Seattle apartment.
“I was wearing a bra and Maggs told me to do it,” I hissed, not bothering to fight him. That’d probably just turn him on. Perv. “She said he needed to check me out if I wanted to waitress at The Line. I need a damned job, Ruger. Didn’t seem like a big deal. Half the women there weren’t even wearing shirts. It’s not like I took off my bra.”
“You’re a f**kin’ idiot,” he snapped. “Of course Buck checks out potential waitresses … at the club. During business hours. He did that to piss me off and get me out of the ring. He played you to win a bet, Soph—he’d never hire you without my permission, anyway.”
“Why did Maggs say it was okay, then?” I demanded. Damn, he was heavy. He smelled good, too, which I hated. Predictably, my body wasn’t listening to my brain again, because I had the urge to spread my legs and wrap them around his waist.
“Fuck if I know, but she did it on purpose,” he growled. “Might want to ask her about that. She set you up, and that means she set me up. I’ll have words with her later.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“You leave Maggs alone,” I said, glaring. “If someone needs to ‘have words’ with her, it’ll be me. If you and Horse had a problem, would you want me involved?”
“Jesus, you’re a pain in the ass,” he said.
“And you’re a disgusting pig man. No respect for me at all—”
“I respect you,” he said, frowning. I snorted.
“Yeah, I’ll bet you f**k all the women you respect in public? And what the hell was that shit about coming on my stomach? I’m not a damned p**n star, Ruger—I’m still all sticky and disgusting. Kinda hard to clean up in a Porta-John.”
“This house has three showers, babe. Not my fault you haven’t taken one yet. I like the idea of me all over you, so no rush on that.”
“I was busy packing! I wanted to get out of here before you got home, ass**le!”
“Yeah, I see that,” he muttered. He leaned down, his face so close our lips almost brushed. “You’re not moving out, babe. You’re mine. We covered this. Done deal.”
“Oh, I’m definitely moving out,” I told him. “Not even you can think this is healthy, Ruger.”
He smiled at me with the eyes of a predator.
“I don’t care if it’s healthy,” he whispered. “Whole damned world’s unhealthy. You think all those people living in giant houses on the lake have happy, pretty, perfect lives? You think those bitches aren’t backstabbing each other while their husbands f**k interns on their lunch breaks?”
I shook my head.
“My friend Kimber’s not like that. Her life’s nice and normal and not crazy at all.”
“Then she’s one in a thousand,” he replied. “Because I swear to you, sometimes the nastiest shit happens behind the prettiest doors, while everyone laughs and smiles and pretends everything’s okay. Here’s the thing about my world. We’re f**ked up. We own it. We take care of business and move on. In twenty years those ‘healthy’ people you’re so jealous of will still be backstabbing each other, and their kids will, too.”
“I’ll take my chances,” I said.
Ruger scowled and pushed himself up abruptly. Then he grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder like a sack of wheat. I squawked as he carried me out of the room and up the stairs to his loft, kicking and punching him the entire time. Didn’t do a bit of good. I don’t know what I expected—maybe that he’d throw me down on the bed and ravish me, like a movie or something. He didn’t. Instead he carried me into his big bathroom, dumped me in the shower and turned on the faucet.
“What the hell are you doing!” I shrieked as cold water hit me, still fully clothed. Ruger grabbed the shower hose and started spraying me down with it.
“I’m showin’ you respect,” he yelled back at me. “So sorry I got you all messy earlier. Just doing my best to make this relationship healthy and clean, because that’s so f**kin’ important to you. Aren’t I a f**kin’ prince?”
“I hate you!” I screamed, lunging for the hose. He laughed and sprayed my face. I lashed out and slipped. In a flash, Ruger caught me, then pulled me tight into his body. I found myself looking up at him, my wet clothes soaking both of us, one of his arms wrapped around my waist and his other hand tight in my hair.
We glared at each other.
“Jesus, you f**k with my head,” he said roughly. “My c**k gets hard just thinkin’ about you. You’re in my dreams every night. I wake up in the morning and all I think about is you in my house, you and Noah finally mine. My family. It’s even better than ridin’ my bike. I’m crazy for you, Soph.”
I shook my head, stunned. I didn’t believe him. I couldn’t afford to.
“You’re just saying that to control me,” I whispered, not sure whether I was talking to myself or him.
“Fuck me, you just don’t get it, do you?”
He took my mouth in a fast, hard kiss and I fought him for about two seconds. Then I gave in, because my body recognized him, needed him. Suddenly there were too many clothes between us. Our hands scrambled and I discovered that water-logged jeans—even cutoff ones—must be the least convenient thing on earth to wear when you need quick access.
Still, I managed to get them down and kicked away just as he grabbed my waist, spun me around and leaned me against the counter. I looked up to see him in the mirror, face flushed red with need, eyes capturing mine as he slammed his c**k deep inside. It filled me fast and hard, stretching me until it bordered on pain. I gasped, the sound a mix of pleasure and pain.
I’ve never felt anything better in my life.
“Fuckin’ crazy for you,” he muttered, fingers digging into my skin. “Always have been.”
“Ruger …”
Then he took me, forcing me to brace myself with both hands as he pounded me from behind. One hand steadied my hips while the other reached around to my clit. That piercing of his slid along my G-spot, the hard little knobs of metal on the top and bottom of his c**k head carrying me to a whole new level of sensation. My orgasm hit with agonizing speed and I screamed, pulsing around him.
Ruger thrust three more times and then he came, too, hot seed spurting.
Shit. We’d forgotten the condom again.
He pulled out of me slowly and we looked at each other in the mirror, our chests heaving. He was fully clothed and I still wore my T-shirt. My hair was sopping wet and scraggly, and eye makeup ran down my face.
I was a hot mess without the “hot” part.
“Do you have any diseases?” I asked, my brain valiantly fighting for control. He shook his head, still watching me in the mirror.
“I always use a condom,” he said. “Never f**k a girl without one, actually.”
“Fucked me without one twice,” I said, my voice dry. “Wanna rethink your answer?”
He offered a smug smile.
“I know you’re on the pill,” he said. “So pregnancy’s not the issue. Also know you’re clean. You’re my woman, so why shouldn’t I feel you around me? And I swear to you, babe. I have never, ever f**ked anyone without protection before. I even donated blood about two weeks ago—all clear.”
“That’s a relief,” I said, straightening. I looked around for my panties and shorts. They’d landed near the toilet, dripping water everywhere.
“How do you know I’m on the pill?” I asked, reaching for a towel to wrap around myself.
“Found ’em in your purse,” he said without a hint of shame. I looked up, startled.
“Why were you in my purse?” I asked, not pleased.
“To get your phone,” he replied, tucking himself back into his pants. “I wanted to set up the GPS on it.”
I stopped cold.
“You have GPS tracking my phone?” I asked, incredulous. “What the hell is wrong with you? You want to chip me like a dog, too?”
“I want to be able to find you if there’s an emergency,” he said, his face growing serious. “I know it sounds paranoid, but we had a real bad situation last winter … Marie and Horse would be dead right now if I hadn’t had GPS on her. Nearly died as it was. Now I do it for all the girls in the club. Don’t worry, I don’t spy on you or anything. But it’ll be there if you ever get in trouble.”
“I don’t even know where to start,” I said, closing my eyes. I was exhausted, I realized. No wonder my brain wouldn’t kick in and tell me what to do.
“Let’s go to bed,” he said. “I’m tired. You’re tired.”
“I’ll sleep downstairs,” I told him, clutching the towel as I reached for my clothes.
“You’ll sleep up here with me,” he replied. “You can fight me on it and lose, which is more work for both of us, or you can just give in. Gonna end the same either way.”
I looked at him and knew he was right. I’d set him straight later—right now I needed rest.
“Can I borrow something to wear?” I asked, trying not to yawn. “I’m too tired to go get dry stuff.”
“I’d rather you sleep naked.”
“I’d rather you go f**k yourself, but seeing as that’s not an option, can I borrow something to wear?”
He smiled at me.
“Knock yourself out. Shirts are in the top drawer, underwear in the second one down.”
I left the bathroom and looked around to find his dresser. Sure enough, the top drawer held a variety of T-shirts. I found one with a Reapers symbol on it and pulled it out. Then I moved down to the next drawer. Most of his stuff was black or gray, but a flash of pink in the back caught my eye.
What the hell?
I pulled out a pair of silky, pink panties.
“Jesus, Ruger,” I said. “Is there anywhere in this house women don’t leave their lingerie? It’s like a damned Victoria’s Secret in here!”
I turned to him, holding the panties out with two fingers, disgusted. He cocked his head and gave me a strange smile.
“Those are yours, actually,” he said slowly. “You left them behind.”
“What are you talking about?”
“That first night,” he said. “With Zach. You left them in my apartment. Had ’em ever since.”
I froze, and studied them more closely. It’d been a long time, but they did look familiar. I’d been so sad to lose them, because I’d bought them special …
“I can’t decide if that’s just a little bit creepy or really, super creepy,” I said finally, glancing over at him. He shrugged, eyes holding mine steady.
“You asked me the other night if wanting you was a new thing,” he said, his face free of mockery for once. “It’s not a new thing, babe. Not a new thing at all.”
I woke suddenly, wondering where the hell I was. A strong, masculine arm lay across my stomach, pinning me down. A vaulted cedar ceiling rose overhead. I turned to see Ruger lying facedown next to me, and it all came back in a rush.
I needed to get out of here before he woke up and started in on his you’re-my-woman-and-I-own-you bullshit. I couldn’t afford to play around anymore—Noah had been through enough already.
Lifting his arm cautiously, I rolled out of bed and turned to look at his sleeping form. Ruger’s back was half covered by the sheet, and for the first time I had the chance to study his ink in full light. His perfectly sculpted body wasn’t just sexy. It was literally a work of art. His arms were a mass of patterns and designs so intricate I had trouble following them, but dominating his right bicep was a picture of what had to be Noah’s Ark. The animals marching away from it were fantastical, dragons and demons and snakes, but the Ark itself was unmistakable.
My breath caught. How had I never noticed that before?
He shifted in his sleep, the sheet slipping lower. I couldn’t allow myself much time … I wanted to leave before he woke up and we started fighting. Given our track record, I’d have sex with him again if that happened. My clit perked up and sent an urgent memo to my brain endorsing that option. Screwing a man-whore had one advantage—he certainly knew what he was doing.
As for the pink panties I wore? I didn’t know what to think about that. It should’ve grossed me out, but it mostly just turned me on. All those years I’d been lusting after him, and he’d been lusting after me, too. Not enough to stay faithful, of course. But he’d still wanted me.
My ni**les joined my clit in petitioning for another round.
I ignored both of them.
Nothing had changed. The party, Em, all the reasons I should avoid the Reapers. Ruger and I simply couldn’t be together. But for a few minutes, while he still slept, I let myself study the incredibly sexy man who’d been an unofficial father to my son. Across the top of his back was a broad, curved banner of ink matching the patch on his cut that said “Reapers.” Their symbol—the Reaper himself—covered the center, and I saw just a hint of the bottom rocker, which I knew would say “Idaho.”
Strange as it sounds, the combination of his club colors and the Ark illustrated Ruger’s contradictions perfectly.
Strange spots covered his shoulders, and along his side I saw just a hint of the panther’s claw reaching around from his hip.
He shifted and I froze, reality crashing back down.
I needed to get out or we’d have another fight. Realistically, we’d have another fight regardless, but a little break would be nice. I went downstairs and found my phone, checking the time. Seven in the morning. It took me less than thirty minutes to finish the last of my packing. Then I carried everything out to the car, loaded it, and climbed in.
I turned the key in the ignition, feeling sad and just a little wistful.
Things would turn out, I told myself firmly. I was doing the right thing. As if to prove my point, the sun was already high and bright. Birds were singing like in some stupid Disney movie. I turned out of the driveway onto the road and saw Elle, Ruger’s neighbor, walking along with her dog. She smiled as she saw me, waving me down. I pulled over.
Elle’s eyes flicked over the car, noting the presence of boxes and the lack of a child.
“Trouble in paradise?” she asked dryly.
I smiled ruefully and shrugged.
“You could say that,” I replied. “Ruger and I live in different worlds. I realized it doesn’t matter how cheap the rent is, staying isn’t going to work.”
“Do you have a plan?” she asked, and it wasn’t one of those questions that’s actually a passive-aggressive accusation in disguise. My mother had been the master of those … I could tell Elle was genuinely concerned.
“Not really,” I said. “But I guess that’s okay. Every time I make plans they fall apart anyway. Noah’s with my friend Kimber, and she’s got a spare room. I’m sure she’ll put us up until I pull something together.”
“I see,” she replied, pursing her lips thoughtfully. She glanced over at Ruger’s house, then cocked her head at me. “Why don’t you come over and have some breakfast? There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”
That startled me.
“Um, I don’t want to sound rude, but I’m sort of trying to get out of here before Ruger wakes up,” I told her. “He’s not going to be too happy about this.”
“He’ll get over it,” she said, that dry tone back in her voice. “He may be a big, bad biker, but he’s still just a man, and men are notoriously stupid. You can’t see my house from the road and he probably won’t come looking for you there, anyway. I have a shotgun if he does. I also have caramel rolls.”
My mouth dropped. Hadn’t seen that one coming.
“Okay,” I replied, suitably impressed.
Half an hour later we sat at her kitchen table, eating sweet rolls and discussing my crazy life. Somehow, she managed to bring out the humor in the situation, making things seem less scary. I wanted to be Elle when I grew up, I decided. She was smart, funny, cynical, and pretty sexy for a woman pushing forty.
“So, you’ve got a bit of a problem,” she said finally, the queen of understatement. “You’re smart to move out. I agree with you one hundred percent.”
“Really?” I asked. “Because I think Maggs set me up last night. She’s trying to push us together, I know it.”
“Well, there’s together and there’s f**king,” Elle said, delicately slicing a cantaloupe wedge.
“It kind of freaks me out when you do that,” I admitted.
“Do what? Eat melon? Orange fruits and vegetables are extremely healthy, Sophie.”
I giggled and shook my head.
“No, act all ladylike and then cuss like a sailor.”
“My late husband was in the navy,” she said, smiling softly. “And I assure you, his language would make your motorcycle club friends cry like little girls. Ruger actually reminds me of him in a way. So wild and violent, but contained, too.”
“Do you miss him?” I asked softly.
“Of course,” she replied, her tone sharpening. “You can’t help but miss a man like that. But here’s the thing, Sophie. I gave up everything for him. We moved every couple of years, so I had trouble making close friends. I thought about having a child, but I didn’t want to raise one by myself and I knew he’d be gone half the time. Then he went and died on me and now I’m all alone. Sometimes I hate him for that.”
I didn’t quite know what to say, so I took another bite of my roll. Elle sipped her tea and then sat back in her chair, looking at me very seriously.
“I did something very stupid when I was your age,” she said. “I let a man make the decisions for me. I have no idea if you and Ruger belong together, but you need space to figure things out. You can’t let yourself be dependent on someone unless you can truly trust him.”
“I trust Ruger,” I said slowly. “I trust him with Noah, at least. I also trust him not to change, which is sort of the problem.”
“Men rarely do,” she agreed. “Although it’s possible, I suppose. As I said before, I think I may have a solution for you. Did you know there’s an apartment in my barn?”
“Your barn?” I asked, blankly. I looked out the window toward the wooden structure behind the house. “I didn’t know you used the barn.”
“I don’t,” she said. “This farm belonged to my great-aunt, and she had part of the barn converted to an apartment for my cousin. He was developmentally delayed. She wouldn’t let them put him in a home, but he couldn’t live on his own. The apartment gave him some freedom and independence, but also kept him safe. He passed two years ago and it’s been empty ever since. I’m sure it needs cleaning, but I’d like to offer it to you and Noah.”
“Are you serious?” I asked. She nodded.
“Of course,” she said. “I wouldn’t have offered it otherwise. It’s not being used and I like both of you. Noah deserves a decent place to stay, and it’s definitely better than crashing on someone’s couch. Only one bedroom, but you don’t need to live there forever. It’s furnished. Just until you get back on your feet.”
“What are you looking for in terms of rent?” I asked cautiously.
She thought for a moment.
“I was hoping you could help me with the yard work,” she said. “I’ve been having trouble keeping up with it lately.”
I met her eyes across the table and neither of us said anything for a long moment.
“You’re a very nice person,” I whispered.
“So are you,” she replied quietly. “I have no idea whether things will work out between you and Ruger, but this way Noah can stay in the same school and still be within walking distance.”
“You think it’s a good idea for me to be this close to him?” I asked bluntly.
“Good luck finding somewhere he can’t follow you,” she replied wryly. “It hardly matters how far you go. Like I said—I have a shotgun. The barn has a good lock. Between the two I think you’ll do all right. Would you like to go and take a look?”
“I’d love that.”
ME: Thanks again for watching Noah this weeknd. All moved in now, still cant believe Elle had this place just sitting here. Good luck for me!!!!
KIMBER: No prob. So … have u seen HIM yet?
ME: Who? :->
KIMBER: Don’t be a dumbass. Thats Rugerss job. Did he freak?
ME: Thats the creepy part. He didn’t
KIMBER: Seriosly?
ME: No. He texted and asked me if I was ok. I said yes. He asked where I was
KIMBER: U tell him?
ME: Yes. He’d figure it out anyway
KIMBER: Huh … thats weird. After what happeed Sat night, that’s a total turn around. I expected him to come chase u down and drag you back—you know, like a cavman or something
ME: I know. I was expectign more too. Makes me nervous
KIMBER: Ha! U WANTED him to be pissed!
ME: No … maybe? Its stupid. I have a job interview tomorrow afternoon. Recpetionist at a dental clinic. Right near the school
KIMBER: Woooot wooot!!!!! Dont change the subject
ME: Hey! I need a job more than I need to talk about Ruger
KIMBER: This is about ME, babe. I need gossip. U owe me. Iwatched ur kid AND I got you drunk. Entertain me

[Dinoysus]

CHAPTER XII

“Sophie, I’m so sorry, but Dr. Blake is still running late. Can you stick around a little longer, or should I see if he can reschedule? I hate to pressure you, but he’s really hoping to make a decision tonight, and you’re the last interview … We’re pretty desperate.”
“No problem,” I said, smiling brightly at the flustered hygienist behind the counter. It was a big f**king problem. Noah would be out of school in an hour and I needed to be there to pick him up. But I also needed to be able to buy food to feed him, too, and after the first three months this job came with health care and sick leave … not to mention dental. I hadn’t had my teeth checked in four years.
“Are you sure?” asked the hygienist. Her name was Katy Jordan, and for the past hour I’d been sitting in the waiting room, watching her juggle patients and the phone. Apparently their old receptionist left without giving notice because of a family emergency, the temp was a no-show, and the doctor’s assistant had gone home at ten that morning throwing up. A mother with two kids sat next to me, obviously impatient. She’d been waiting nearly forty minutes for her appointment to start and things were getting tense.
“I’ll make a quick phone call,” I told her.
“Sounds great,” she said. “Mrs. Summers? Are you ready?”
The woman beside me stood and coralled her children, herding them into the back. I stepped outside the office, which was in a low-lying, mixed-medical building. Kind of like a mini-mall for doctors, although classier, with fancy landscaping, cedar siding, and covered walkways.
I tried Elle first. No answer. I tried Kimber, too. Nothing. I called the school to see if he could go to the after-school program for a day, only to learn he needed to be formally enrolled to participate, something I’d have to do in person, at the district office.
That left me with the girls from the club or Ruger … and the girls from the club weren’t authorized to pick him up at the school. I could change that, of course. All I had to do was fill out some paperwork at the school office.
In person.
That left Ruger.
I hadn’t had any communication with him since Sunday morning, aside from that one text asking if I was okay. I punched his number and waited. The phone rang long enough, I thought I’d get voice mail. Shit … Then he answered.
“Yeah?”
He didn’t sound particularly friendly or welcoming. More like the old Ruger, the one who looked through me like I was furniture. I suppose that’s what I wanted. It didn’t feel good.
“Um, hey,” I said. “I’m really sorry to do this, but I have a favor to ask. For Noah.”
“Yeah, you always have favors to ask,” he said, his voice almost a growl. “Yet I still answer the damned phone when you call. Tryin’ to figure out why.”
“Are you working this afternoon?”
“Yup.”
“Any chance you could duck out long enough to pick up Noah at school? They keep moving back my job interview. If I have to leave, I’m probably going to lose my shot here.”
He sighed.
“Yeah, I can move things around here,” he said. “How late do you think you’ll be?”
I paused, hating every second of this.
“I don’t know,” I finally said. “At this rate, it might be toward the end of the day. I need to meet with the doctor. He had some sort of emergency earlier and now they’re running behind. He’s just trying to fit me in between patients at this point.”
“Okay, I’ll take the rest of the day off, bring him back to my place.”
“Thanks, Ruger.”
“It’s what I do,” he said, hanging up. I looked down at the phone, wondering how such a great guy could be such an ass**le slut at the same time.
Then I pasted my “Hire me, I’m friendly and competent!” smile back on and returned to the waiting room.
By four thirty I still hadn’t done my interview. I’d pretty much given up on it, because there’d been a second emergency. A high school girl knocked out half her front teeth during soccer practice. She’d been hysterical when her coach rushed her in, bloody towels pressed to her face. The other patients watched in fascinated horror as Dr. Blake himself came out to fetch her, bustling her back into the treatment room.
Forty-five minutes later he reappeared.
“We’re going to have to reschedule everyone,” he announced to the room, looking exhausted. “I’m so sorry. I don’t have anyone here to help you right now. We’ll need to call you tomorrow.”
There were several frustrated sighs, but it wasn’t like people could complain, given the circumstances. Dr. Blake’s eyes caught on me. He was a handsome man, although older than me. Probably in his late thirties or early forties?
“Are you one of my patients?” he asked. “I don’t recognize you.”
“I’m Sophie Williams,” I answered, straightening the scarf I’d tied around my neck. “I’m applying for the job as your receptionist. I’m guessing that interview isn’t going to happen today?”
The phone started ringing. Again. Then the door opened and a UPS deliveryman came in, followed by a woman with three children.
“Hey, Dr. Blake!” she said. “We’re all ready for our checkups. How are you doing?”
“Great,” the doctor replied, offering her a pained look. “But we’ve had a little complication in the scheduling today. This is our new receptionist, Sophie. She’ll take care of you.”
Just like that, I had a job.
I felt proud of myself when I turned the car down Ruger’s drive that night. I’d jumped right in at work, and while I didn’t know how to use the scheduling program, I still managed to look up the last two patients for the afternoon and call them to cancel. I’d also handled the phone and even talked to a potential new patient. I still needed to fill out paperwork, but Dr. Blake had been thrilled.
Just having an income source changed everything … The fact that it came with benefits, sick leave, and vacation? Amazing.
I’d never had a job with paid vacation before.
Of course, that good feeling ebbed as I pulled up to the house. I hadn’t seen Ruger since I’d snuck out of his room three days ago. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected from him. But I’d expected something. This silent acceptance of what I’d done, after what a huge deal he’d made about “owning” me? That made me very nervous.
Making matters worse, he’d saved my ass this afternoon. Again. That meant I owed him even more than before—just one more complication to our already twisted relationship.
I knocked on the door but nobody answered. I’d texted him around four thirty to give him an update and he’d replied that they’d gone fishing, so I walked around the side of the house to his deck and made myself comfortable at the table to wait. Well, as comfortable as I could, given our recent interactions. I still had my key, but using it felt wrong under the circumstances. It was a little after six already. I hoped he’d be back soon. Noah needed dinner and a bath before bed.
Ten minutes later I saw them walking up toward the house across the meadow from the pond, the big man and little boy looking like something out of a country-living postcard. Ruger carried the fishing gear and Noah bobbed along next to him like a puppy, holding a string of three tiny little fish.
“Mom!” he yelled, spotting me. He took off running toward the house and I met him at the bottom of the steps. He jumped at me and then I was holding him as the fish slapped against my side in all their slimy glory.
Ewww …
“Mom, I got three fish,” he told me, eyes wide with excitement. “Unce Ruger and I went to the pond and we even got to dig up some worms and they were really, really squirmy!”
“Wow, that sounds like fun,” I told him, wondering if I’d be able to get the fish smell out of my interview outfit. I couldn’t get upset about it, though—not with him so happy. Sometimes I forgot just how much I loved my little boy, because seeing him again after a long day apart nearly made my heart explode.
“I have good news, too,” I told him, smiling big.
“What?”
“Mama got a job!” I said. “I’m going to be working at a dentist’s office right by your school. I’ll be able to drop you off every day, and then I’ll pick you up from the after-school program. No more working at night! What do you think of that?”
“That’s f**kin’ great, Mom!” he said, eyes bright.
“Noah! Do we use that word?”
His face fell and he shook his head.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Uncle Ruger told me not to say it in front of you.”
Ruger set the fishing gear down under the deck and I turned to him.
“Noah says you told him not to curse in front of me?” I asked, raising a brow.
“Long story,” he replied. “And I’m not gonna get into it with you, so you can either let it go and enjoy some grilled fish with us for dinner or get all worked up. Result will be the same.”
I glared at him as Noah started wiggling to get down. I let him go and he held the string of fish up, so proud he practically glowed.
“Uncle Ruger and I are going to cook dinner,” he declared. “We’re eating my fish. You can share!”
I glanced down at the three tiny little rainbow trout, smaller than could possibly be legal. Then I looked up at Ruger, questioning.
He shrugged.
“I’ve got some salmon marinating in the fridge,” he said. “I’ll grill it with corn.”
“I brought Noah his favorite macaroni and cheese,” I replied. “Want me to cook that up while you get the grill going?”
“Sounds great.”
Dinner was a little awkward, but not as bad as you’d think, under the circumstances. I’d busied myself doing the macaroni and prepping the veggies while Ruger and Noah cleaned the fish. I wouldn’t have trusted Noah with a knife, but Ruger guided him carefully, explaining each step as he slit the fish open, gutted them, and then rinsed them out. We wrapped everything in foil and threw it on the grill while Noah ran off to play and I set the table.
“So, you got the job today?” he asked, leaning back against the railing, a casual eye on the food. It was almost like things hadn’t blown up between us over the weekend. Okay. I could work with that. Denial had always been an excellent strategy for me.
“Yup,” I said. “It’s a good one. They do full benefits after three months and I’ll have a week of vacation starting next year. Thanks again for grabbing Noah.”
“No problem,” he said, shrugging. “It’s not like he’s hard to be around, if you can get him off the whole Skylanders thing. He ever get tired of that?”
“No,” I said. I saw a spark of humor in his eyes and I smiled back. At least we had Noah between us, I realized, no matter how f**ked up everything else was.
“You’ve done a hell of a good job with him,” Ruger said. “I want you to know that.”
“Thanks,” I said, startled. “What brought that on? I thought you were pissed at me?”
Shit, did I just say that out loud? Why did I have to go and stir things up, right when we were starting to get along? He didn’t jump all over me, though. Instead he just gave me a slow smile, which was strangely worse.
“You’ll figure it out,” he said.
Crap.
He stepped over and rotated the corn while I studied him, suspicious. He stayed quiet, pulling out his phone and checking his messages. Yup, definitely worse. At least when we fought I knew where we stood.
On the bright side, Noah’s little trout were pretty tasty—all three bites. He turned down salmon to eat SpongeBob-shaped macaroni and cheese, no huge surprise there. Ruger startled me by bringing out a bottle of sparkling cider to celebrate my new job. Noah was ecstatic, drinking half the juice by himself out of a real wine glass. I have to admit, I was touched. After dinner we cleared the dishes while Noah took off again, with a stern warning that we’d be heading home in ten minutes.
“You start work tomorrow?” Ruger asked as I loaded the dishwasher.
“Nine on the dot,” I replied, feeling a little rush of excitement. “It’s perfect. I can’t believe how things worked out. Thanks again for helping today—you have no idea how much it meant to me.”
“I note you didn’t follow up on the job at The Line,” he said, cocking a brow. I frowned and looked away.
“Um, I wasn’t really serious about that anyway,” I said. “I don’t want to work for the club.”
“Yeah, you made your feelings about the club clear,” he said. My mood deflated a little. “I’ve got something for you.”
“That’s a loaded statement,” I replied, my voice flat. He smirked, and I felt better. It wasn’t an angry smirk.
“Dirty mind, Soph?” he asked. “Seriously, this is important. Come on into the living room.”
I followed him, then sat in a chair. He sat on the couch, then patted the seat next to him. I shook my head. He held up a thick, business-sized envelope.
“You don’t get your surprise if you don’t come over here.”
“What makes you think I’ll want it?”
“Oh, you’ll want it,” he said, clearly pleased with himself. I got up and walked over to him slowly. He grabbed my hand, pulling me down and across his lap. I gave a token struggle, but he handed me the envelope and curiosity took over, so I let him win.
Also, it felt kind of nice to sit on his lap. Yeah, I know. Stupid. But I’m only human.
I opened the envelope and saw cash. A very large wad of cash. My eyes opened wide and I pulled it out, shocked. I didn’t count it, but it seemed to be all hundred-dollar bills … there had to be three or four thousand dollars in here.
“What the hell is this?” I asked, looking at him. He gave me a grim smile.
“Child support.”
“Holy shit!” I gasped. “How did you get this out of Zach?”
“It’s from Mom’s estate,” Ruger said. “I paid him out and then he paid you out. In exchange, he gets to keep living. Everybody wins.”
I turned to look at him, shocked.
“Are you serious?” I asked. Our faces were about two inches apart, and his eyes flicked to my lips. I licked them nervously and felt something stir under my butt. His arms came around my waist, holding me loosely, and my ni**les hardened.
Damn it.
“Pretty hard to get more serious,” he told me. “Old friend tracked down Zach for me in North Dakota and I rode over there Sunday afternoon, got back early this morning. We had words. Then we went to the bank. I didn’t give him the promise to let him live in writing—that’s just a little side incentive. I’ll revoke it if he ever gets within ten miles of you or Noah again. Mom would’ve wanted this anyway. She never stopped loving him, but she sure as shit stopped trusting him.”
I swallowed. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the details … But I couldn’t feel sorry for Zach. He’d earned everything he got and then some.
“How much money is in here?” I asked, flipping through the wad of cash.
“Not all of it,” he said. “That’s just last year’s. The rest is in transit. Dealing with that much cash gets complicated. Needs to be cleaned up a bit, and then we’ll find a way to get it to you that won’t leave an ugly trail. The trade-off is, we agreed on your current monthly rate, and it’s not like you can take him to court to ask for more if he gets a great job or something.”
“I couldn’t even get him to pay what he owed already,” I said. “Health and Welfare won’t do shit, either. I don’t think upward adjustments were on the table.”
“Sort of what I figured,” he replied. “So I’m real glad you got a job, but you won’t be living paycheck to paycheck anymore.”
“That’s amazing,” I whispered, looking back down at the envelope. “I have to ask … Is it going to come back on me and Noah? Am I going to get arrested?”
“You’re good,” he said. “That’s not enough cash to catch any IRS attention, and Horse is working on getting the rest of it to you all safe and legal. He’s a damned good accountant, and he’ll work with our lawyer. Fuckin’ shark. If Zach ever tries to cause trouble about it, you call me and I’ll make him go away.”
His arms tightened around me, hinting at his strength, and I shivered.
“This is another case of you doing my dirty work for me, isn’t it?” I asked softly.
“It’s Noah’s money,” Ruger said, his face serious. “This isn’t about you, Sophie. It’s about Zach taking care of his son—and it’s not like it even came out of his pocket. That insurance settlement came out of nowhere. Noah has a right to this money, and my mom would shit if she knew Zach was starving you guys out. I fixed the problem. Don’t think about it anymore, just use the money to take care of our boy, okay?”
I nodded my head, leaning my head against his chest. He kissed the top of my head and rubbed up and down my back.
“So Horse is an accountant?” I asked after a minute. “I find that hard to picture.”
“I’d just as soon you not picture Horse at all,” he muttered, and I smiled.
“Thank you,” I whispered. I’d never seen that much money in my life. Hell, at this rate we’d have the fancy macaroni and cheese all the time! And the rest? If I saved it, I’d be able to pay for Noah’s college.
My kid would go to college. I felt tears well up in my eyes, which bugged me because I hated crying.
“If you really want to thank me, give me a blow job,” Ruger said, his voice light. I straightened up and smacked his shoulder, and he burst out laughing.
“Why do you have to say things like that?”
“You were getting all soft and sweet,” he said. “And when you get like that I really want to f**k you. But Noah’s right outside and this is shit timing. Riling you up takes care of that soft and sweet crap.”
“You’re impossible,” I told him, trying to get up. He held me down, though, and riling me up clearly wasn’t making him less interested in sex. The evidence under my ass was getting harder by the second.
“How about this,” he said. “One kiss. Give me one kiss and we’ll call it even.”
“No,” I told him. “You’re up to something. You can’t let me win, can you?”
Ruger grinned at me.
“Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “I’m up to something. And I’m never going to let you win, so you might as well give up now.”
With that his lips came down over mine in another of those kisses that destroyed my ability to think. He explored my mouth softly and I explored right back, wishing like hell that Noah was with a babysitter. Heroin. The man was pure heroin. Heroin kills people, my brain screamed. My body flipped off my brain and kept kissing Ruger. Finally he let my lips go and pulled back, smiling and looking smug as hell.
“Like I said, might as well give up, Soph,” he said. “Sooner or later I’m gonna win this little game of ours.”
I sat up slowly, shaking my head. How did he do that to me? I wanted him so bad I couldn’t see straight, and he turned it off, just like that. Noah ran up across the deck and looked at us through the window, pressing his mouth wide open against it and making a blowfish face. Then he started laughing wildly and ran off again.
Okay. That turned it off.
“You want to keep your own place for a while,” Ruger said, touching my cheek softly. “I’ll try to understand that. It’s all happening fast and that’s scary. But you’re still mine, Soph. Don’t think for one minute I’ve forgotten that or changed my mind.”
“You planning to keep your dick in your pants at the club?” I asked bluntly.
“I’m not planning not to keep it in my pants,” he said slowly. “But I’ve told you—I’m not a one-woman man. I won’t lie to you or make promises I’m not sure I can keep.”
“And there we have it,” I replied, shaking my head. “Fuck off, Ruger. I’m going home.”
RUGER: What time do you get off work?
ME: 5. Why
RUGER: Want to come over and check your place out for security
ME: No
RUGER: You haven’t figured this out yet? I’m going to do it. Rather do it when it’s convenient for you but happens either way. What time? I’ll bring pizza
ME: We get home around 6. Noah likes his pizza plain
RUGER: Plain? Like nothing?????
ME: Plain. Be happy. Used to be he wouldnt let them put sauce on it
RUGER: Plain it is. See you at 6
ME: He’s invading my space
KIMBER:?????
ME: Ruger. He’s invadng my space. Coming over tonight to check out security on new place. Bribing us with pizza
KIMBER: Control freak much? What’s security
ME: He likes my apartments to have alarms. Checks for bad windows and locks. Deadbolts.That kind of thing
KIMBER: thats sweet tho! He wants u safe
ME: He’s the biggest danger
KIMBER: Be happy. U have a hot guy coming over and he’s bringing dinner. Women have killed for less
ME: Whose side you on?
KIMBER: Mine. Haven’t u figured this out yet?
ME: Bitch
KIMBER: Ho
ME: At least I don’t drive a minivan
KIMBER: See if I make YOU margaritas again! LOW BLOW!!!!!!
ME: <3
“You don’t have to spend a lot of money to keep a place safe,” Ruger told Noah, his voice serious. They crouched together as Ruger installed a new deadbolt on our exterior door. We had two—one leading outside and the other leading into the rest of the barn, which was pretty cool in its own right. Among other things, it had a loft complete with mounds of old hay for Noah to jump in. Even better, there were stairs leading up to it and a railing, safety features I assumed they put in for Elle’s cousin.
“If you have empty pop cans, you can make an alarm by stacking them in front of your door,” Ruger said. “The goal is to make noise, so that you know if someone tries to come in. Most bad guys will run away if there’s noise. That’s why I put those little alarms on the windows. If you ever see a bad guy, don’t be quiet. Start screaming. And don’t yell help—yell ‘Call the cops!’ as loud as you can, okay?”
“You’re going to scare him,” I said from the couch, debating whether I should eat the last slice of pizza. Between Ruger and Noah, it’d disappeared pretty fast.
“You scared, Noah?” Ruger asked.
“Nope,” Noah said. “Ruger’s smart. He’s teaching me all kinds of safety stuff. He says you need to stop texting on your phone when you walk places, Mom, and pay attention to the people around you. He also says there’s this little stick you need to start carrying around. It’s called a cuburtron.”
“Kubaton,” Ruger corrected, looking over at me. “It’s a little baton for your keychain. Very effective, very safe. You should come take the self-defense class at the shop, Sophie.”
“I don’t need a self-defense class,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I have my own personal stalker to protect me already. It’s almost Noah’s bedtime—you planning to go home at some point?”
“After I finish up,” he said. “Bath time, kiddo.”
Noah did the obligatory whining and begging to stay up, but his heart wasn’t in it. Bath went fast, with Ruger finishing the lock just as Noah got out.
“Will you do my story tonight?” he asked Ruger.
“Sure thing, little man,” Ruger said. “What are we reading?”
“Magic Tree House,” Noah replied. “I can read it by myself, but I like it when you do it.”
I picked up the small living room as Ruger read to Noah. We had a futon for a couch, which was where I slept. Normally I’d start setting it up by now, but I didn’t want to give Ruger ideas. After half an hour, he came back out, closing Noah’s door behind him softly.
“Kid’s out,” he said. “Fell asleep halfway through the chapter. I think he’s doin’ great, but he’s been through a lot lately.”
“Thanks for your help,” I said awkwardly.
“Here’re your new keys,” he said, tossing them toward me. “I replaced all the locks, so you’ll need to give a set to Elle. Her old ones won’t work.”
“Um, that’s great,” I said.
“Can I have Noah for a while on Friday afternoon?” he asked. “I’m headin’ out on a run this weekend. Might not be back for four or five days.”
“Sure,” I said. “I need him by seven, though.”
“Sounds good,” he said. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall casually. “So how long are we gonna do this?”
“Do what?”
He raised a hand and gestured around the little apartment.
“Have you and Noah live here when you could be over at my house.”
“This is nice,” I protested. “It’s clean, it’s safe, and I don’t need to worry about the landlord attacking me in the night. It’s not happening between us, Ruger. Not. Happening.”
He didn’t respond, and I watched him warily. He was up to something … I could smell it. Suddenly he pushed off from the wall and walked over, catching me around the waist. Then he threw me over his shoulder, just like he’d done that weekend.
“No!” I yelled. “You don’t get to haul me off whenever you don’t get your way!”
He smacked my ass.
“Shut up,” he said. “You’ll wake up Noah. If he comes out here, he’ll see you like this, and then you can figure out how to explain it to him. If he asks me, I’ll tell him the truth. Mommy’s been a bad girl and she needs a spanking.”
“You ass**le,” I hissed, kicking and smacking his back as hard as I could. Maybe I should take one of those kube-thingie classes. I could’ve shoved it up his big, dumb ass as he carried me out of the apartment and into the barn.
Ruger ignored my struggles, which pissed me off even more.
He carried me through the barn and up the stairs to the hayloft. I sensed a pattern. At least there wasn’t a bathroom up here, so no cold water spray. Small comfort. He dropped me down on a pile of straw so hard I lost my breath, looming tall as he unbuckled his belt and ripped it through the loops on his jeans. Then he folded it between his hands and snapped it. I glared at him, scuttling backward across the hay like a crab.
“I need to tie you up again?” he asked.
“We aren’t doing this,” I declared, even though my brain had already started the familiar shutdown his presence seemed to cause. God, I loved how he smelled. Not to mention the feel of his c**k deep down inside … those little metal knobs made a hell of a difference. “Go to hell, Ruger.”
“Fuck no. We are definitely doing this,” he said. “Maybe I can f**k some sense into you. Words obviously don’t work.”
With that he pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside. I glared at him as he opened his fly and pulled off his jeans without another word. He knelt forward in the hay and caught my hands, pinning them on either side of my head. His head lowered as he scented me, kissing the fading bruises on my neck, nibbling and sucking like he’d done at the party.
Damned distracting. Shit, that felt good.
“They’re fading,” he said, pulling away just enough to meet my eyes. I didn’t like his expression, not at all. “Maybe I’ll give you some new ones. What do you think?”
“I think you’re a raging ass**le.”
Ruger laughed.
“Yeah, well I think you’re a bitch, but my c**k likes you, so we’ll figure something out.”
He caught my mouth again, but this time the kiss wasn’t hard and brutal. Nope, he changed tactics, because now his lips whispered over mine, nipping and sucking, drawing them apart gently as I tried to ignore him. Then he tugged my hands together over my head, freeing a hand to slide down between us. His fingers drifted across my stomach before reaching the top of the yoga pants I’d put on when I got home.
He starting pulling them down, and I realized this was it.
Ruger was about to win again, because Ruger always won, and I always let him because my body wanted him more than my brain hated him. I raised my hips, making it easier for him to take off my pants, which was just another nail in my f**king coffin. Then his fingers slid into me and I shuddered.
The damage was done already anyway, I justified. What difference would it really make? When he finally stopped kissing me, we stared at each other, panting. His fingers stroked down below, grazing my clit, and I twisted, wanting more.
“Jesus, you piss me off,” he murmured. “Good thing your cunt’s so f**king hot.”
“Don’t call it that.”
His lip twitched.
“Good thing your vagina’s so gosh-darned hot,” he whispered. “Because I really, really want to stick my penis in it and have repeated sexual intercourse, bringing us to a mutually satisfactory culmination of our desires. How’s that sound?”
“Almost dirtier,” I said, mouth quirking. Fucking ridiculous. All of it. I wanted to kill him and screw him and scream at him, so now he made jokes? I almost laughed, but his fingers rubbed right up against my G-spot while his thumb played with my clit. I couldn’t figure out how he made me so wet, so fast, every single time.
“Oh, it’s dirtier,” he told me, nuzzling me again, tugging on my ear with his teeth. “If I let go of your hands, are you gonna try to get away?”
I considered the question seriously.
“No,” I admitted. “But this is a one-time deal. We’re never having sex again after this time.”
Ruger gave me that lazy panther smile of his and didn’t answer. He did let me go, though, and I reached up, pushing him over and back down into the hay. Then I straddled him. I had one shot at this, I realized. One last chance to play with Ruger’s body. What should I do with it?
I went for his nipple ring, sucking it deep into my mouth as he groaned, hands twisting into my hair.
“That’s good, Soph,” he whispered. “But could you grab my dick while you’re at it? All I can think about, it’s f**kin’ killing me.”
I reached down and found him, hard steel bound in silk. I trailed my fingers over the head of his cock, catching the barbell, brushing back and forth.
“Holy f**k,” he groaned. “Too much, babe. Just the shaft for now, okay?”
His hand covered mine, showing me exactly how he wanted it—slow and deep, with a bit of a twist that should’ve been painful. I remembered he liked it rough so I didn’t hold back, and soon his hips arched under me.
That’s when I gave his nipple a final flick and started working my mouth down his stomach. Ruger wasn’t like some guy in a magazine ad. He had a model’s perfect abs, but he also had just enough hair to remind me I was dealing with a real man, not some pre-fabbed fantasy of clean, waxed sexuality. I rubbed my chin against the dip of his navel, savoring the power I held over him before going lower.
Some girls love giving head.
I’ve never been one of them, so I didn’t have a lot of experience to work with. What I did have was a hell of an imagination, and I’d been thinking about taking his c**k into my mouth since that first night on his deck. I remembered sitting there, seeing him outlined in front of me through the thin flannel of his lounge pants, wanting to touch him more than anything.
Now I could.
Ruger tilted his head up, one arm folded back and under his neck, watching with hooded eyes as I rubbed the head gently against my cheek, considering my next move. I reached out my tongue and flicked the notch at the bottom of his glans. Then I swirled it around the little metal knob.
Ruger’s breath hissed and I felt a surge of pure, feminine power.
I licked it again, playing with his piercing before sucking him in hard. The metal post was weird, but it wasn’t like I planned to deep-throat him, so it didn’t matter. I started bobbing my head up, working him with my hand at the same time. His fingers burrowed deep into my hair, guiding me.
“You’re killing me, Soph,” he muttered, groaning. “Stop. I’m gonna come if you don’t stop.”
I liked that idea. For once it would be nice to see Jesse “Ruger” Gray lose control. But just when I’d decided to make it happen, his fingers tightened in my hair, dragging my mouth away from his cock.
“Ride me,” he ordered.
Oh, I could work with that …
I climbed over him, reaching down to guide him into my body. Even though I was probably wetter than I’d ever been in my life, taking his full length went slowly. From this angle I felt every inch of him, stretching me so wide it almost hurt. I stopped several times to let myself adjust, his eyes boring into me the whole while. When I finally had all of him I stilled, catching my breath.
Ruger still watched me, his face full of need and intensity and desire. He leaned up on one elbow, the flex of his stomach muscles almost painful against my oversensitized clit. He reached out and caught a strand of my hair, tucking it behind my ear, and then cupped my cheek, his face almost tender.
I closed my eyes.
Angry Ruger? Fine. Horny Ruger? I’d gotten used to that, too. But Ruger as a gentle lover? I didn’t have room for that in my head, not if I wanted to survive and move forward with my life. I started rocking back and forth on him, the movement ever-so-slight but almost painfully pleasurable. His hand dropped from my face to my hip, urging me to go faster, so I did.
It didn’t take long to bring him back to the edge. At some point I leaned forward on his chest for leverage, digging my nails into his pecs, which seemed to turn him on even more. Ruger liked a touch of pain, I decided, so I did my best to crush him with my inner muscles.
I’m generous that way.
I was close to coming myself when he lost patience, rolling me over and taking control again. He grabbed my legs, shoving them up and over his shoulders. Then he pounded me hard until I screamed out my orgasm.
Ruger followed right behind, and when he came, he called out my name.
I fell asleep with him wrapped around me, both of us on our sides, one of his hands resting lightly against my stomach. He’d gone downstairs and grabbed a blanket, covering the hay and creating a nest for us.
At some point I woke to find Ruger’s hand between my legs, slowly stroking me as I drifted. He rolled me to my stomach, spread my legs, and slid into my body gently and carefully. I sighed, the delicious pressure building and exploding with a subtlety I’d never experienced before.
Then he wrapped himself around me again and I drifted back into sleep. I woke up when my cell rang at six the next morning, finding myself alone on my futon, surrounded by his smell. I didn’t recognize the name and the caller hung up. Fucking wrong number.
I rolled to my side and saw the empty pizza box, still sitting on the coffee table.
Damn. What the hell was I supposed to do with a situation like this? Insane. All of it.

[Dinoysus]

CHAPTER XIII

“God, I love dancing,” Kimber said, sucking on a cigarette. It was just shy of midnight on Friday, and we stood on the sidewalk outside a club in downtown Spokane. I had a nice buzz going.
“My feet are gonna hurt so bad, but totally worth it,” I agreed, swaying a little. I felt my cheeks flush, which was funny, so I started laughing. Kimber shook her head at me.
“I can’t take you anywhere,” she said gravely. “Lightweight. Where the hell did Em go? I want to check out this guy of hers. I thought the deal was we’d look him over and decide whether he’s worth her time. She’s cheating.”
“No shit. Bitch. I hate her.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Kimber replied, stabbing the air with her smoke for emphasis. “How am I supposed to live the single life vicariously if I don’t get any details?”
I shook my head and shrugged mournfully.
“I’m doing my part. I tell you everything.”
“And don’t think I don’t appreciate it,” she said, tearing up slightly. We gave each other a drunken hug.
We’d hit the first bar around ten, and by ten thirty Em had disappeared to meet her online hottie, Liam. She was supposed to bring him inside to meet us, but they snuck off to a bar down the street instead. I would’ve suspected kidnapping and murder by eleven thirty, when we moved on to the next club, but she’d been sending us regular text messages that made it clear she was enjoying her evening.
Long story short—Liam was gorgeous, we’d get to meet him in a while, she was definitely going to sleep with him, and she was pretty sure he could handle her dad. Apparently Liam was Em’s perfect man.
She promised not to leave the other bar without us, so we called it good.
“Hopefully they’re in some corner booth making out,” I said glumly.
“Not too much,” Kimber said darkly. “If she f**ks him before I give my approval, she’s losing her margarita privileges.”
Talking about making out reminded me of Ruger, and thinking of Ruger made me want to drink more. I still couldn’t believe I’d f**ked him. Again. I couldn’t shake the man. Thank God we didn’t need to be back in Coeur d’Alene until noon, because I had a lot more alcohol to drink. Kimber’s husband was definitely taking one for the team tonight, watching both kids. I needed to bake him cookies or something …
“Is it creepy that I want to bake for your husband?” I asked her. She burst out laughing and I started laughing, too, and then my phone buzzed.
EM: I want to go back to the hotel. He’s defintely THE ONE
I read it and squeed, handing the phone over to Kimber. She started thumb-typing furiously.
Kimber: Dont u dare! We have to chck him out frist. Ur NOT follwing the plan
EM: Yu’ll meet him in a minut come down to Mick’s and we can head from there. We’ll wait outside
I yanked my phone back and glared at Kimber.
“That’s mine! I get to yell at her first.”
“We can’t yell at her in front of Internet Hottie!” she told me. “That’s a cockblock. We’ll yell at her tomorrow.”
I considered this.
“Okay,” I said. “But I still call dibs on first yelling once we ditch his ass.”
She sighed and rolled her eyes.
“Whatever.”
We didn’t see them outside Mick’s. It was a tiny hole-in-the-wall place we almost missed because it was next to a good-sized club with a long line. I texted Em and got no response.
“She’s probably just peeing or something,” Kimber said, eyeing a group of collegey-looking guys standing in a clump on the sidewalk. They eyed her back and she smiled.
“Hey!” I hissed. “Married, remember?”
She laughed.
“I’m just looking, don’t be so uptight. I promise not to touch, okay?”
My phone buzzed.
EM: Heading out
We stood on the sidewalk for another five minutes. Nothing. I started getting a little nervous. I texted again. No reply.
Another ten minutes passed and I’d had enough. This didn’t feel right.
“I’m gonna go check on her,” I told Kimber. She’d lost interest in the college boys when they’d come over and tried to pick us up. They’d been pretty to look at, but not exactly brilliant conversationalists.
She nodded, concern on her face.
“I’ll wait out here,” she said, looking up and down the street. “Just in case they show up.”
“I don’t want you outside by yourself,” I replied. She jerked her chin toward the bouncer at the club next door.
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “Anything happens, I’ll scream for him. Go find our girl.”
“All right,” I said, my voice grim. “But when I find her, we’re kicking her ass. This isn’t cool.”
The place was small and dark—just a tiny, narrow little bar, way rougher than I expected. No wonder the college boys stayed outside. The men in here would crumple them up and throw them away like used … um … something. Straw wrappers? No, something worse. I shook my head, foggy from the booze. Focus. There were more men than women, and most kept their eyes on their drinks. My quickly sinking opinion of Liam went down another notch. What kind of guy took a girl to a place like this?
We shouldn’t have let Em out of our sight, I realized.
I didn’t find her in the main bar so I wandered to the back, where a long hallway led past some grotty-looking bathrooms and an office. It ended with a fire door that had been propped open with a brick.
I texted Kimber.
ME: Any sign of them?
KIMBER: No this is bllshit
ME: Not in bar. I’ll look in the ally then com back
I stepped up to the fire door cautiously. Would Em really go out there with a guy she didn’t know? Except she probably felt like she did know him. They’d been calling each other for a while now. Hell, I’d gone on dates with guys I’d only met a few times. Still … I pushed the door open and peeked outside to find a tall, dark-haired man in faded jeans and motorcycle boots leaning against the side of a battered cargo van.
He smiled at me like a shark and winked.
Oh my God. I recognized him. It was one of the guys from that other club, the Devil’s Jacks. The ones who’d come to my apartment in Seattle.
Hunter.
What was he doing here? Holy shit … Coincidence?
Or were Hunter and Liam the same person?
I opened my mouth to scream when someone shoved me from behind, knocking me out into the alley. I stumbled and nearly fell. Then Hunter’s arms caught me, swooping me up and carrying me toward the back of the van. I shrieked as loud as I could—kicking and fighting as he tossed me in—but the pounding music from the club next door almost guaranteed nobody heard me. Em lay on the floor, arms cuffed behind her back, a bandana gagging her mouth. Her legs were tied tight with what looked like white clothesline.
Hunter climbed in after me, wrestling me down and wrenching away my phone. Within seconds my own mouth was gagged and he’d closed another set of cuffs around my wrists. I lay facedown on the floor, eyes wide and staring at Em, who stared right back at me. I felt someone else climb in and heard a door slam, and the engine roared to life.
Hunter spoke, his voice cool and detached.
“Sorry, girls. Hopefully this won’t get too ugly and you’ll get to go home soon.”
The van started moving.
RUGER
His beer had gotten warm.
For once, there wasn’t a party at the clubhouse or a barbecue or anything happening, which was a f**king shame because all he could think about was Sophie out dancing in Spokane with her slut of a best friend. He should be focusing on his trip to Portland tomorrow, but he really couldn’t bring himself to give a damn.
Jesus, he’d nearly shit his pants when he realized who she was going out with tonight. Kimber’s stage name had been Stormie, and the bitch was famous for having a mouth like a vacuum. Even he’d taken her home one night … It’d been okay, but not worth breaking his no-repeats rule.
Now he wondered if she’d been filling Sophie’s head with stories about him all along. Also explained why she’d been interested in working at The Line—Kimber had made a goddamned fortune there, one of their most popular dancers.
She’d been an even bigger hit in the VIP rooms.
He’d considered simply physically stopping Sophie from going, but figured that would do him more harm than good in the long run. She’d been dodging him since their night in the hayloft and he’d let it go. The first week of a new job was stressful, so he’d given her a break. This ladies’ night thing had caught him off guard. He’d only found out because Noah had a big mouth.
Kid was full of all kinds of useful information.
Picnic walked into the main lounge with a girl trailing him. She looked about sixteen, although Ruger knew she had to be older. No jailbait in the Armory—that was trouble they sure as f**k didn’t need. Pic wore the look of man who’d gotten well laid, and he sent her on her way with a smack on the ass. Then he walked over to Ruger.
“What’s with you?” he asked, dropping into one of the mismatched chairs across from the couch.
“I’m bored,” Ruger said, rubbing the back of his neck. “And apparently I’m getting old, because my neck hurts from sitting at my bench today, taking care of that special order.”
“You’re f**kin’ pathetic,” Pic said.
“That’s the truth.”
“I hear your girl moved out.”
“Yeah, we can talk about something else now.”
Picnic laughed shortly.
“First Horse and now you,” he said. “Whole damned place is turnin’ up pu**y-whipped.”
“Fuck off, ass**le,” Ruger replied. “The only reason I’m sitting here right now instead of f**kin’ her face is I’m not willing to hand her my c**k on a leash. And you should talk. Screwing kids younger than your daughter? Creeps me out, thinkin’ of your old ass doing a chick like that.”
“At least I got laid tonight,” Pic answered mildly. “Unlike some.”
His phone rang. He pulled it out and looked at the ID.
“It’s Em,” he said shortly, standing and ambling across the room. Then Pic froze, his body language screaming tension. Thirty seconds later, Ruger’s phone rang.
Sophie.
“You better not be—” he started, but she cut him off.
“Shut up and listen,” she said, her voice tight. Ruger sat up. “Those guys you met in Seattle? The Devil’s Jacks? They’ve got me and Em. We’re in Spokane and they—”
He heard her scream as someone grabbed the phone. Adrenaline slammed through him, taking him from relaxed to ready for action in a heartbeat. Instead of acting on it, he forced himself to stay calm and listen with everything he had. They’d need every clue they could to find Sophie … and Em? What the f**k? Jesus, Em should know better than to go out without giving Pic a heads-up. How had Em gotten mixed up in this?
“Ruger,” a man said. “This is Skid. From Seattle. We got a bit of a problem.”
“You’re dead,” Ruger replied, his voice flat, and he meant it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Picnic grab a bar stool and smash it against the wall. Horse was on his feet, pushing a trio of girls out the door as Painter grabbed a sawed-off shotgun from behind the bar.
Slide wandered in from the bathroom and glanced around, brows rising.
“Yeah, we’ll talk about my death later,” Skid said, sounding bored. “Listen up. Your boy in Portland—Toke—he went apeshit on two of our brothers a coupla hours ago. Just broke into the damned house and started shooting. There’s cops everywhere, a couple of bitches who saw it all go down, total clusterfuck. Girls are talkin’ to the cops, too, just to make things perfect. Docs are working on one guy right now, no idea if he’ll make it. Toke dragged the other off.”
“You’re full of shit,” Ruger said. Toke might be a wild card but he wouldn’t ignore a vote by the full club.
“Process later,” Skid snapped. “It’s time for you to get your boy under control and our man back to us. Safe. Until then, we’ll take good care of—what’s her name again? Sophie? We’ll take good care of sweet little Sophie for you. She’ll be just fine once we clear this up. Our boy goes down? Her prospects don’t look so good. Got a real nice ass. Might tap it before I shoot her. Got me?”
He hung up.
“Fuck,” Ruger muttered, kicking over the coffee table as he stood up. Pic yelled as Horse and Bam Bam held him back. Ruger ignored the drama, striding down the hall, past the office, and into the large workshop where he did his special projects. He flipped open his laptop and pulled up the tracker, narrowing his search.
There they were—Sophie’s and Em’s phones were near the river, downtown Spokane. They’d be in the water soon. By the time he could get there, the Jacks would be in the wind, along with their girls.
Goddamnit. Ruger turned and punched the wall, smashing through the sheetrock. Sharp pain hit, helping him focus. He pulled an unregistered .38 semi-automatic out of his bench drawer and shoved it into his ankle holster, then grabbed extra clips. Then he turned and went back down the hall to find Picnic and the others arguing over what they should do. Pic wanted to ride now—Horse, Bam Bam, and Duck all wanted to take the time to make a plan, which Ruger knew needed to happen. Couldn’t do shit in Spokane until they had more info.
Toke had lost the vote but he’d won the battle.
The Reapers and the Devil’s Jacks were going to war.
SOPHIE
I don’t know how long we rode in the back of the van. It felt like forever. Then I heard the sound of a garage door opening. We pulled in and it shut behind us. Hunter and the driver stepped out of the van, coming around to open the back doors.
Hard hands—not Hunter’s—grabbed my ankles, pulling me out roughly. My cheek scraped, and if the kidnapping hadn’t fully sobered me, the pain finished the trick. He half carried, half dragged me into the house. Then he dropped me down on the couch and I struggled to sit up. Hunter set Em down next to me, far more gently. He stepped back and joined his friend. Guy number two was Skid—the other Devil’s Jack I’d met in Seattle. They stood over us, faces grim, and I knew we were well and truly f**ked.
My stomach twisted and I thought about Noah. Would I ever see him again?
“Here’s the situation,” Hunter said, his cold gray eyes flicking back and forth between us. Could he actually be Em’s Internet guy? She hadn’t been lying. He really was hot—even better-looking than I remembered.
Too bad he was a goddamned sociopath.
Or maybe he’d done something to Liam. For all I knew, Em’s online boyfriend was lying dead in the alley. Shit.
“You’re here as leverage. One of the Reapers down in Portland—Toke—made a real bad call tonight. He went to our house and started shooting, no warning, no provocation. He took a hostage when he left. One of our brothers is down and a second is probably getting tortured to death right now, so you’ll have to excuse us for being a little abrupt about this whole thing. Your daddy,” he nodded toward Em, “is gonna do what it takes to get our guy back for us. That happens, you go home.”
She glared at him, eyes full of betrayal. He leaned forward and pulled off her gag, whispering something in her ear. Em jerked away from him.
“You’re dead, Liam,” she said, her voice utterly serious. So that was one mystery solved … Poor Em. My heart hurt for her.
“My dad is going to kill you,” she continued. “Let us go now and I’ll try to talk him out of it. Otherwise it’ll be too late. I’m serious. He. Will. Kill. You.”
Hunter shook his head.
“Sorry, babe,” he replied. “I get that you’re scared and pissed, but I’m not going to let a brother die just because some Reaper had a tantrum.”
“Fuck you.”
He glanced at Skid, who shrugged. Hunter sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, looking tired.
“Okay, let’s go upstairs,” he said. He glanced at me. “We’ll take your gag off, but either of you starts screaming we’ll just have to put them back on. We’re in the middle of nowhere, so it’s not like you’re gonna get anywhere if you do. You two control how ugly this gets. Got me?”
With that, he pulled out a Leatherman multi-tool and cut the rope on Em’s feet. Then he started on mine. I heard a clicking noise and looked up to find Skid pointing a small, square pistol at us.
“You cause trouble, I’ll shoot you,” he said. “Hunter’s nice. I’m not.”
I swallowed.
Hunter pulled me to my feet and I rocked nervously, trying to get circulation back. It was hard to balance with my hands cuffed behind my back. He helped Em up and then they marched us up the flight of stairs off to one side of the living room.
The house’s second story was pretty typical, with a small landing at the top. Looked like there were three bedrooms, along with the bathroom, reminding me that I needed to pee in a big way. Hunter took Em’s arm and pulled her into a room on the right, kicking the door shut behind them.
“Over there,” Skid said, pointing to the door next to it. I walked in to find a queen-sized bed with a very plain wrought-iron frame, a battered dresser, and an old desk. There was a small window, which looked like it’d been painted shut. I wondered how hard it would be to get it open. If I did, could I manage a drop back down to the ground?
“Stand next to the bed, facing away from me,” Skid said.
Oh, shit … The bed took on a whole new meaning. I did what he said, my body bracing for the worst. Was Skid about to rape me? Would Hunter rape Em? He’d obviously been cultivating some sort of relationship with her. Was it all about the club, or was there something more?
Em was a very pretty girl. A girl who deserved better.
I trembled as Skid came up behind me, feeling the heat of his body and hoping to hell I wasn’t his type. I felt his hands touch mine, then he popped open one of the cuffs.
“Lie down,” he said, his voice unreadable. Should I fight him, or just close my eyes and take it? I wanted to live a lot more than I wanted to fight. I’d let him do it and just hope it ended fast.
I laid down on my back, focusing on the ceiling, blinking rapidly.
“Put your hands up over your head.”
I raised my arms as he leaned over me. He paused, looking me over, and I saw his eyes catch on the swell of my br**sts. I bit the side of my cheek, trying not to break down and start begging. I didn’t want to give him that power over me. He reached down, catching my hands, and I felt a tug on the cuffs as he threaded the chain through the wrought iron. Then he snapped the second cuff back on me.
Skid stood back up and walked over to the window, looking outside, crossing his arms. My breath caught. Was that it? Was I safe for now? He glanced back toward me, thoughtful.
“The guy Toke took is my brother,” he said. “Not just my club brother—my half brother. Only family I have. Believe me when I tell you I’ll do anything to get him back. Don’t think being a woman protects you. Nothing will protect you. Got me?”
I nodded.
“Good girl,” he said. “Keep it up and maybe you’ll live.”
He turned and walked out.
I lay there forever, needing to pee so bad it hurt. I supposed I should’ve asked Skid to take me to the bathroom before he locked me down. Sooner or later I’d wet the bed. I didn’t care. I’d rather piss myself than call for Skid to come back and help me. Then I heard a scream and the sound of something shattering against the wall my room shared with Em’s.
I forgot all about my bathroom situation.
“You cocksucking bastard!” Em shrieked. I held my breath as I heard another thump. Oh, God. Was she fighting with him? Was he raping her? Her voice was full of pain and I felt sick to my stomach, because whatever was going on over there wasn’t good. The noise died down. I lay in the dark, counting the seconds. How had something this crazy happened to someone as normal and boring as me?
Goddamn Reapers.
Ruger’s stupid f**king club. First Em got stabbed and now we’d been kidnapped. It was like some horrible virus, creeping in and destroying everything it touched without warning.
If I got out of this alive, I was never touching Ruger again.
I couldn’t be with a Reaper, no matter how much I wanted him. I couldn’t allow this to be a part of my life. It couldn’t be part of Noah’s life, either. If Ruger wanted to see my son, he’d damned well leave the club out of it.
As for me? I was done with him. Well and truly done. I knew it in my gut and in my bones—any man whose reality included women getting kidnapped wasn’t good enough for me. He wasn’t right, no matter how he made me feel.
Period.
I closed my eyes tight as Em screamed again.
I woke with a start as the bed dipped.
Where was I?
I heard Em’s voice and it all came back.
“You okay?” she asked. I opened my eyes to find her sitting next to me. I studied her, looking for signs of abuse or crying.
She didn’t look like a rape victim, though. She looked pissed as hell. If anything, she was prettier than usual, her cheeks full of color and her hair wild and free. Early morning light filtered in through the window. Hunter stood in the door, eyeing both of us, face unreadable. I couldn’t believe I’d actually fallen asleep.
“I need the bathroom,” I said, my voice hoarse. God, I felt hungover.
“Can she go to the f**king bathroom?” Em asked Hunter, her voice cold.
“Yeah,” he said, walking toward me. She stood and moved out of his way, putting as much distance between them as possible. I tried not to flinch as he unlocked me, rolling away as quickly as I could despite my aching muscles.
“C’mon,” Hunter said. “Both of you.”
Em took my hand and we walked out of the room together, her fingers squeezing mine. I wanted to ask if she was all right, find out what had happened. No way I was going to talk in front of him, though.
We turned into the small bathroom, which didn’t have a window. Em shut the door behind us, pausing long enough in the doorway to glare at Hunter in some kind of silent battle. Then the door shut.
I rushed over to the toilet, incredibly relieved.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, looking over at her. She ran her hands through her hair, then crossed her arms and rubbed up and down. “How are you? Did he hurt you?”
“My pride? Definitely,” she said, eyes snapping. “Not physically. I can’t believe this. Seriously—I can’t believe how stupid I was. I actually invited him to come and meet me. I made it so easy. Idiot.”
I didn’t reply, washing my hands as we swapped places, then cupping them to take a drink. My mouth was all cottony.
“Do you have any idea what’s going to happen to us?” I asked. “Skid scares the crap out of me.”
“Did he hurt you?” she asked, her voice sharp.
“No.”
“That’s good. This is a pretty f**ked-up situation,” she said. “Toke—he’s the one who cut me at the party—he’s gone off his rocker. This shooting thing makes no sense to me at all, but if it really happened, we’re screwed. Nobody knows where Toke is, not even Deke, and he’s Toke’s president. They’ve all been looking for him since the party. Cutting me was not okay, and Dad wants to make sure he pays for it.”
“Shit,” I muttered. “So your dad couldn’t give them this Toke guy, even if he wanted to?”
“I don’t think so,” she said slowly. “I mean, he’s really protective of me. When Toke hurt me like that, Dad lost it. If Dad could find him, he’d be found already. We’re pretty f**ked here, Sophie.”
“Do you think they’ll hurt us?”
She considered the question.
“Liam won’t,” she replied. “I mean, he won’t hurt me. I don’t think he’ll hurt you, either.”
I cocked my head at her.
“You do realize he was lying to you all along, right? Just because you liked him doesn’t mean you can trust him, Em.”
“Oh, I know that,” she said quickly, then shook her head ruefully. “Believe me, I’m well aware that I’m the f**kwit who got us into this.”
“You’re not a f**kwit,” I said forcefully. “He’s a liar and he’s good at it. Not your fault that he targeted you.”
It was the Reapers’ fault, but I figured rubbing it in wouldn’t be particularly helpful.
“Doesn’t matter,” she said. “But I’m serious—I really don’t think he’ll hurt me. I’m more worried about Skid.”
“It’s his brother they’ve got,” I told her. “His real brother. I think he wanted to hurt me.”
“You guys okay in there?” Hunter called through the door.
“We’re fine,” Em snapped, startling me. “Give us a f**king minute, ass**le!”
My eyes went wide.
“That was pretty bitchy,” I hissed. “Do you think that’s smart? Maybe I’m reading the situation wrong here, but don’t we want him in a good mood?”
She snorted sarcastically.
“Fuck that,” she replied. “I’m a Reaper and I’ll be damned if I’ll suck up to some Devil’s Jack dickwad.”
“Well I’m not a Reaper,” I said quietly. “And I’d just as soon not die here and leave Noah an orphan, so don’t piss him off.”
She looked chastened.
“Sorry. I guess I have my dad’s temper.”
“Too bad you don’t have your dad’s gun.”
“No shit, right? And I’m the good girl in the family. You should see my sister.”
“You have one minute,” Hunter called through the door. “Then I’m coming in.”
Em washed her hands and we left the bathroom. I avoided making eye contact with Hunter, who stood back and jerked his head toward “my” bedroom.
“Go in and lie down on the bed,” he said. “Both of you.”
We did what he said—although I could see it killed Em to obey—and two minutes later he had us both cuffed to the bedstead. Thankfully, he only did one wrist each, which was way more comfortable than Skid’s method.
“I’ll bring you some food,” Hunter said, tracing a finger across Em’s cheek.
She glared at him. “I’m gonna buy a bright red dress to wear to your funeral, Liam.”
“Yeah?” he replied, eyes narrowing. “Make sure it’s short and shows off your tits.”
“I hate you,” she hissed.
“Keep tellin’ yourself that.”
He walked out, slamming the door behind him. I bit my tongue, wondering what the hell that was all about.
“Don’t worry,” Em said after an awkward pause. “We’ll find our way out of this. We’ll escape somehow. Either that or the guys will find us.”
“Do you have any ideas?” I asked, wondering what the hell was going on between them. “Did he tell you anything, give you any hints or clues about where we are?”
“No.”
I waited for her to say more. She didn’t, and that worried me even more.
“So what did you do all night?” I asked slowly. Em ignored the question.
“I wonder if one of them will leave at some point,” she murmured. “If we wait until there’s just one in the house, I’ll bet the two of us could take him. Or even if we distracted him, at least one of us could get away. Go for help.”
“Do you think we’re really out in the middle of nowhere?” I asked. “Have you seen outside?”
“Haven’t seen outside, but we barely drove long enough to get out of the city,” she said. “There may not be any houses next door, but there has to be something within walking distance. We just need to find a way out of these handcuffs. If we can find a paperclip or a pin or something, I can pick the lock.”
“Really?” I asked, impressed. “Where did you learn that?”
“You’d be surprised at all the things I know,” she said, her voice dry. “Dad believes in being prepared.”
The door opened and Hunter came in balancing two paper plates. He had a couple bottles of water clutched under his arm and I suddenly realized how hungry and thirsty I was. My stomach growled. He set everything on top of the little dresser in the corner. Then he walked over and unlocked the handcuffs.
“You’ve got ten minutes,” he said.
We got up and grabbed the food. It was just plain peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, along with some chips, but it tasted as good as any meal I’ve ever had.
“In a minute, we’re going to call your dad,” Hunter said to Em. “Let him know you’re alive, and find out if he’s made any progress.”
Em glared at him darkly, chewing her food. He sighed, grabbing the chair from the desk and pulling it out.
“You want to sit?” he asked. She shook her head. Hunter spun the chair around and straddled it himself, his face blank. His eyes never strayed from Em’s face. Once we finished eating, he nodded toward the bed.
“Lie down again,” he said. We did. Hunter started with me, locking down my right wrist. Then he walked around the bed to do the same to Em’s left. As he leaned over her, I saw her free hand snake quickly around to his back jeans pocket, lifting something. In an instant she tucked it under her body.
Hunter froze.
Shit, did he feel that?
We needed a distraction. Now. I bit down on my tongue viciously, then shrieked and started spitting blood at him as hard as I could.
“Jesus Christ!” he yelled, jumping away from the bed like it was on fire. Em dove right in.
“Oh my God, are you all right?” she yelled. “Hunter, you need to get her to a doctor!”
I stopped spitting, choking on the blood. Ughh …
“I’m tho thorry,” I mumbled, trying to look embarrassed and shocked. “I bith my tongue and ith thcared me.”
Hunter looked at the gobs of blood and spit on his arm with disgust, then glared at me.
“You’re f**king kidding me,” he said. “What the f**k’s wrong with you? Shit, you got any diseases?”
“No, I don’t hath any ditheatheth,” I snapped. Or rather, I tried to snap, which backfired on me because my tongue was swelling so rapidly that I bit it again. “Owth!”
Hunter shook his head, and Em looked at me with wide, concerned eyes. Behind them, I saw laughter dancing.
“Drive me f**kin’ crazy,” Hunter muttered. “I’ll get you a piece of ice to suck on. Jesus, that’s f**king disgusting.”
He left the room, slamming the door, and Em almost lost it.
“That was brilliant,” she whispered. “Seriously brilliant. I got his Leatherman. I should be able to get us out of the cuffs with it.”
“We’re thucky he didn’th do both handth. Thkid did.”
“Oh, that sucks,” she said, wrinkling her nose at me. “Let me guess, did you have an itch on your ass or something all night?”
“No, thank fukth,” I replied. Shit, my tongue really hurt. “When will you thry to pick the lockth?”
“When I think he’ll be gone for a while,” she said. She grabbed the Leatherman, then rolled over and crawled up the bed on her elbows, reaching down between the iron bars to tuck it in somewhere.
“It’s between the mattress and the box spring,” she said. “In case you need it.”
I frowned—if I needed it, she’d be gone, and the implications of that weren’t good.
Hunter returned, holding a paper napkin. I sat up awkwardly as he handed it to me, scooting back against the headboard. It held an ice cube, which I popped into my mouth as Em joined me.
My throbbing tongue started feeling better immediately, thank God.
“We’re going to call your dad again,” Hunter told Em. “I’ll let you talk to him for a minute, then I’ll see where the situation’s headed.”
“What about Sophie?” she asked. “Ruger will want to talk to her.”
“Ruger can f**k himself,” Hunter replied. Em glanced at me, and I realized she wanted more distraction. I wasn’t sure why, but I’d follow her lead. I spat out the bloody ice into my hand awkwardly.
“Pleathe?” I whined, drooling. “My boy—Noah—he’th got a prethcription he needth, Ruger doethn’t know where it ith. Let me talk to him for two minuteth. Pleathe.”
He looked at me and narrowed his eyes.
“You’re full of shit.”
“You want a seven-year-old kid to die?” Em said, her voice cold. “Not enough to kill two women, now you’re gonna take out a little boy, too? You’re a hell of a man, Liam.”
Hunter sighed.
“Do you ever shut up?” he asked. He pulled a cell out of his pocket, one of those cheap little flip phones you buy at grocery stores, watching us as he dialed. He put it on speaker.
“Yeah?” Ruger said, his voice full of restrained tension. Hunter nodded at me.
“It’s Thophie,” I said quickly. “I’m here with Hunter and Em, they’re lithening.”
Hunter’s eyes narrowed and he snapped the phone shut.
“No f**king games,” he said. “You’re done.”
I nodded and stuck the ice back into my mouth. At least Ruger knew I was still alive … I’d decided I was done with him last night, but he’d gotten me into this mess, so he could damned well get me back out before I cut him off for good.
“Calling your dad now,” Hunter said to Em, dialing again. “Be a good girl, Emmy Lou—or did you need another lesson?”
Em flushed, looking away. My eyebrows rose. We heard the phone ringing through the speaker, and then it picked up.
“Picnic,” Em’s dad said, his voice cold.
“Hey, Daddy,” Em said. “We’re okay for now.”
“What the f**k’s wrong with Sophie?” Picnic asked. “Ruger says she wasn’t talking right.”
“She bit her tongue,” Em said quickly. “Don’t worry, she’s fine. But you need to get us out of here.”
“We know, baby,” he replied, and his voice softened ever so slightly. “We’re working on it.”
“That’s enough, girls,” Hunter said, pulling away the phone. He clicked off the speaker and put it to his ear as he walked out of the room.
Em scooted closer to me, lifting her free arm to wrap it around my neck. I leaned against her, taking comfort from the fact that at least we weren’t alone. The swelling in my tongue had gone down, too, which was a relief.
“We need to get ourselves out of this,” she told me. “Like I said—Toke’s AWOL. After he cut me, there’s nothing he could have done to make things right with dad. If they could find Toke, they would’ve by now.”
“How should we do it?” I muttered around the last of the ice.
“We should wait until there’s just one guy here,” she said. “Sooner or later, they’ll have to go get groceries or something. That’s when we’ll move. I’ve thought about it a lot, and I think attacking is too dangerous, unless you’ve got some sort of secret ninja skills I don’t know about. Great job with the whole spitting blood thing, by the way. I’m impressed.”
“We all have to do our part,” I said, feeling pleased with myself. “You’re not half bad as a pickpocket.”
“Had to pay for college somehow,” she replied piously. “I don’t believe in student loans.”
“You’re a nutjob.”
“Probably,” she said, mustering a grin. “But everything I have, I own free and clear.”
“Yeah, me, too,” I said. “Couldn’t get a credit card to save my life. Apparently unemployed single moms are a bad risk.”
“Speaking of, I have Hunter’s now,” she said, grinning. “I lifted his wallet while you were talking on the phone with Ruger. No idea if it’ll be useful, but it’s better than nothing.”
I sobered.
“Okay, first thing—you need to stop picking his pocket,” I told her. “He’s gonna figure it out. He almost did when you got the knife.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right about that one,” she said, sighing. “So here’s my thought. I want to split up. More chance that one of us will get away and bring help. We wait until one of the guys leaves, then I’ll go out the front of the house and you’ll go out the back. Whoever’s left can’t chase us both. Hell, maybe we’ll get lucky and he won’t even notice us leaving.”
“What if Hunter and Skid aren’t the only guys here?”
“Well, then I guess they’ll probably catch us again,” she said seriously. “It’s a risk, because they’ll punish us. This isn’t a game. But we can’t just sit here and hope this all works out—realistically, it’s not gonna be easy for the club to find us.”
“I thought you said Hunter wouldn’t hurt you?” I asked.
“I don’t think he will,” she said. “But Skid’s different. Dad will find us sooner or later, but I’d just as soon we’re alive when it happens. I don’t want to get dumped in a ditch somewhere just because Toke’s an idiot.”
My breath caught.
“I don’t want to get dumped in a ditch, either.”
“So we just won’t get caught,” she told me, offering a grin. “Should be easy, right?”
“Did I mention you’re a nutjob?”
“I get it from my dad.”

[Dinoysus]

CHAPTER XIV

RUGER
“I wish I had more to tell you,” Kimber said. She looked like a raccoon, her eyes completely surrounded by tear-streaked, black makeup. She sat at a table in the Armory, obviously exhausted from her long night. Ruger still couldn’t quite believe he’d actually f**ked this woman. On purpose.
Sure, she had a great body, but compared to Sophie she was nothing. Not even on his dick’s radar.
“You did the best you could,” Horse said. It’d taken them a while to find Kimber because she’d gone on a rampage looking for Sophie and Em. When they’d finally caught up to her, she’d been holding four men hostage in the corner of Mick’s bar with a canister of pepper spray in one hand and her phone in the other. She’d been filming them, demanding that they tell her everything they knew “for the record.”
Thank f**k she didn’t have a gun with her.
“I tried,” she said. “I never should’ve let her go in by herself. The whole thing was a terrible idea. You’ll never know how sorry I am. I hope you can believe that.”
Picnic grunted, obviously unimpressed, but he managed to keep his mouth shut.
“It’s good you weren’t with her,” Bam Bam said, his voice soothing. “If you were, we’d have three hostages instead of two. Not only that, you’re not one of us, so they might consider you dead weight. This is better.”
“You gonna be okay watching Noah until we get this fixed?” Ruger asked abruptly.
“Yes,” she said, looking up and meeting his gaze. “I’ll take care of him like he’s my own. You don’t need to worry about that.”
“Okay,” he told her. “I’ll come over and see him if I can. I’m not going to let myself get distracted from finding Sophie, though. You need a gun?”
“Oh, I’ve got a gun,” she replied, her voice dark.
“I’ll walk you out,” Painter said, his expression cold. Something in him had changed, Ruger realized. He’d always been a good man, but he wore a new sense of purpose this morning. Maybe this would motivate him to pull his shit together. He’d always assumed Painter and Em would end up together. Clearly she’d gotten tired of waiting. Fucking Internet dating … might as well paint a bright red target on her head.
Ruger was seeing things pretty clearly this morning himself. He needed Sophie back, safe and sound. Needed her more than his own life. He didn’t give a flying f**k about any other woman. If he’d pulled his head out of his ass earlier, this wouldn’t have happened, because she’d have been safe at home with him, in his bed.
Once he got her back, he’d never let her go again.
Never.
She wanted commitment? He’d tattoo her f**king name on his forehead if he had to. Whatever it took to keep her safe.
“Any news from the boys in Portland?” Duck asked.
“Not so far,” Picnic replied. “They think Toke might have the Jack—goes by Clutch—out to the coast. They’re looking for him, but don’t exactly have a lot of leads.”
“How’s the one he shot?”
“Critical but stable, whatever the f**k that means,” Pic said. “Guess that’s something to be thankful for. Okay, let’s get going on this. We got two hours before our meet with Hunter. Thoughts?”
“Let me handle this one,” Duck said, crossing his arms. “You’re too involved, and that means your brain won’t be working. You and Ruger should stay here.”
“No f**kin’ way,” Picnic said, shaking his head. “I’m the president. This is my job.”
“You’re a father and you’re running on fumes,” Duck replied. “You do this and f**k it up, your girl dies. You really believe you can look this f**kwad in the eye and play nice? ’Cause I don’t think you can. Be smart and let me handle it. You don’t want me, have Horse do it, or Bam Bam. We’re your brothers for a reason. We’ve got your back.”
Picnic shook his head again, face tense. He’d started methodically loading spare magazines for his new gun, which he’d been test-firing earlier. Ruger knew he planned to kill Hunter with that same gun, because they’d spent close to an hour together, carefully choosing just the right weapon to do it.
Something untraceable, with a small enough caliber to do slow, steady damage for a long, long time without ending the bastard’s life too quickly.
“Ruger, you need to stay back, too,” Horse said. Ruger glanced up at him and shook his head.
“Nope,” he said. “I’m going. Nonnegotiable. I don’t need to be lead, but I’ll be there.”
Horse and Duck exchanged looks.
“Okay, new plan,” Duck said. “I’ll be lead, you guys come along but keep back. We can’t let him f**k with you—he gets you worked up, you do something stupid, he wins. Got me?”
“Got it,” Pic said. “Just so long as you remember—in the end, he’s mine.”
“Ours,” Ruger corrected. “Him and his friend.”
“And Toke?” Bam Bam asked. “Thoughts on him?”
“Let him answer to the brothers,” Ruger said. “We voted, we made a decision for the club. He ignored that. Fucker needs to pay.”
SOPHIE
“He’s going to go meet with Dad,” Em said, finally speaking.
Earlier Hunter had come and taken her away, only returning her about ten minutes ago. She’d been gone with him for what felt like an eternity. Realistically, it probably hadn’t been more than an hour. When she’d first come back she’d kept pretty quiet. Now she lay with me on the bed again, me cuffed by my right wrist and Em cuffed by her left.
“Why?” I asked.
“I think he’s trying to save the situation,” she said, her voice sounding a little mournful. “I think he actually cares about me, Soph.”
I widened my eyes.
“You can’t be serious,” I said. “He wants to screw you—I get that, he’s a guy and you’re hot. But a man who cares about a woman doesn’t kidnap her.”
“Ask Marie about that,” she said, sounding uncomfortable. “Horse totally kidnapped her. Now they’re getting married.”
That shut me up for a minute.
“Do I want to know the whole story?” I asked finally.
“It’s not going to make you feel any better.”
Motorcycle pipes roared outside the house and we heard the sound of someone riding away.
“That’s Hunter leaving,” she said. “If I get away and Dad finds out I’m safe, he’ll kill him for sure.”
“Don’t,” I said, looking over at her. She seemed downcast, thoughtful. Shit, we couldn’t afford this. “Don’t you dare have second thoughts. This guy is dangerous and we’re going to get seriously hurt if we stay here. We’re going to escape. In fact, we’re going to escape soon.”
“I know,” she said. “I just wish—”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
We gave it an hour, or at least we thought it was about an hour. We wanted to be sure Hunter was far away before we tried our escape. Em opened the knife and popped out a tiny, thin flat-head screwdriver. Five minutes later we were out of the cuffs and taking turns peeking out the window. Hunter hadn’t lied. We appeared to be in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by scruffy shrubs, open ground, and the occasional pine tree.
Only the van sat outside, no more bikes, which hopefully meant we’d only be dealing with Skid. Even so, there wasn’t a lot of ground cover.
“If he chases us we don’t have a chance,” I said, my voice grim.
“He won’t chase us,” she replied. “Here’s what we’ll do. We’re going to sneak downstairs. We’ll figure out where he is, then you go out one side of the house and I’ll go out the other. I can see a back door from here.”
“And if he sees us?”
“Whoever he sees has to slow him down long enough for the other one to get away and find help,” she told me. “No matter what it takes. And I’m going to be the one going closest to him.”
“Why?” I asked, startled. “Not that I want any extra risk, but—”
“Because you have a kid,” she said. “All other issues aside, Noah needs you and nobody needs me.”
“Your family, the whole club, they all need you,” I protested.
“You know I’m right,” she said. “Don’t even try to be noble here or something. If only one of us gets out, it’s you. Let’s not fight about it, okay?”
I took a deep breath and then nodded because she was right. Noah was more important than the rest of us put together.
“Okay, but promise me something,” I said. “You need to seriously try to get away. Don’t let yourself get caught or something just because you want to keep Hunter safe.”
She looked back outside, and for a moment I thought she might argue. How much had Hunter f**ked with her head, anyway?
“I’m serious. I’ll start screaming right now and let him know we’ve got that knife if you don’t promise me you’ll do your best to get away.”
“I’ll do my best,” she said. “If we get free, we could always give him time to get back before calling Dad, you know. It’s not like it’s all or nothing. I’m not stupid.”
I kept my mouth shut. If I got away and found a phone, Hunter was toast.
“I suppose there’s no time like the present, hmm?” I asked.
“Might as well go now,” she said. “I’ll keep the knife, unless you know how to use it?”
“You mean to fight?” I asked, startled. She nodded. “Um, no. I didn’t take knife-fighting class in school. You can keep it.”
“Okay, let’s do this thing,” Em said, using a very fine Arnold Schwarzenegger voice. Unfortunately, it was going to take more than a silly voice to make me feel badass. We bumped fists, opened the bedroom door, and started creeping across the floor. I was terrified we’d make it squeak, but fortunately it seemed solid enough. She eased the bedroom door open, and from downstairs I heard the sound of a game playing on the TV.
“I’ll go down the stairs first,” Em whispered. “Then I’ll wave you on. Be ready to go whatever direction I point you, based on where I see him. If I point back at the bedroom, go up and get yourself back into your handcuff, okay? If I wave you on, that’s it. We’ll only get one shot, so don’t f**k it up. I’m counting on you to send help for me if I have to distract him.”
“I can do it,” I told her, hoping it was the truth. “Let’s both get out, though, okay?”
“Oh, one more thing, and this is important,” she said.
“What?”
“If you find a phone, call my dad or Ruger,” she said. “Don’t call the cops.”
I stared at her.
“Are you f**king kidding me?”
“No,” she said, her voice serious. “I’m not kidding at all. This is club business—if we get the cops involved, things will get much worse, and it’ll happen fast, too.”
“No,” I said flatly. “If I get out of here I’m calling nine one one as fast as I can.”
“Then we’re not going,” she replied. My eyes widened.
“Are you serious?”
“Absolutely,” she replied. “You call the cops, Dad or Ruger might wind up in jail before this ends.”
“How do you figure?”
“You think I was joking when I said Dad would kill Hunter?” she asked slowly. “This isn’t a game. I’ll try to convince him not to. I’ll hope to hell it doesn’t happen. But Hunter going to jail for this won’t protect him, and if Dad takes him out, I don’t want to lose him, too.”
“Jesus,” I muttered, shocked. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you won’t call the cops,” she replied. “If you’re in the position to make a call, you’ll already be safe. I have the right to make the decision for myself, though.”
I thought about it for a second.
“Okay,” I whispered. I didn’t like it, but I’d do it.
She nodded, then started down the stairs very slowly. This would be the hardest part, because we needed to pass through the living room to go anywhere else in the house. He was probably in there, because that’s where the TV was. I pictured the layout in my head—he’d be facing away, and I didn’t remember seeing any mirrors on the walls.
Just a little luck and we’d pull it off.
Em looked up at me, lifted a finger to her mouth and then waved me down. I crept from step to step, trying to stay completely silent, while still moving fast enough so that we wouldn’t lose our opportunity. Skid came into view as I reached the bottom of the stairwell. He sat on the couch, back to us, playing some sort of game that involved shooting at things.
Luckily, it also seemed to involve a lot of loud noises and blowing things up.
Em touched my hand and I looked at her. She pointed at her chest, then toward the front door. Then she pointed at me and toward the back of the house. She held up three fingers, then counted down with them, two, one—go.
I slipped past her, walking quickly but silently toward the back of the house. Within seconds I passed out of the living room, through a dining room, and into a kitchen. I found the back door. It was locked, of course, but all I had to do was open the deadbolt. No special security or anything.
They really hadn’t been planning to kidnap us, I realized. Even I knew that when you plan a kidnapping, you prep a place for your prisoners.
So far so good.
I eased the back door open, and then Skid shouted behind me. I heard Em shriek at him and then a loud, crashing noise. I took off out the door, running as fast as I could in a wide circle around the house.
There was a long gravel driveway, and since we’d already been discovered, I followed it, listening for vehicles or gunfire. I didn’t hear anything other than that first loud outburst. My heart pounded and my brain shut down—would Skid really kill Em? I ran hard, adrenaline powering my legs.
Then I heard a gunshot.
Fuck.
RUGER
Hunter had set up the meet in Spirit Lake, but Ruger got a text halfway there sending them to Rathdrum instead. The Devil’s Jack waited for them in a bar that clearly stated “No Colors” outside the door, forcing them to take off their cuts before going inside.
Dick. Balls of brass, though.
They walked in to find him sitting in the back, nursing a beer. Picnic started forward, but Bam Bam caught his arm, pulling him back.
“Don’t,” he said, his voice low. Picnic nodded tightly as Duck took lead instead.
“Your girls are doing just fine,” Hunter said as the men sat down, and Ruger realized he wasn’t nearly as relaxed as he pretended. His eyes were like ice, and he looked almost feral. That wildness made Ruger damned uncomfortable. Man like that might do anything—no predicting his actions. “I’m planning to keep it that way, so long as you do your part. Where are we on that? You got news for me on your boy?”
“No, we got shit,” Duck said, his voice calm and matter-of-fact. “Here’s what you need to know. Toke—”
“Toke slashed Em with a knife,” Hunter said. “I saw the damage. He’s out of control, and not just with us. Am I right?”
“How did you see that?” Picnic demanded. “Why the f**k was her shirt off?”
“Shut up,” Hunter said. Picnic lurched to his feet, but Horse caught him, pushing him back down.
“Not now, Pic,” Horse murmured. “Hold it back.”
“Why was her shirt off?” Picnic repeated. Ruger felt his own temper rise, but he kept his mouth shut and his eyes open.
“I think a better question is, why she did she get cut in the first place?” Hunter asked, his voice full of carefully leashed anger. “Or maybe, why was she meeting a strange man in a bar without any kind of backup? You f**ked up, old man, and I’ve got her now. Looks like she needs someone new to protect her anyway.”
Fuck me, Ruger thought. He’s got a thing for Em.
“Let’s get back on track,” Duck said, his tone smooth and dangerous, which wasn’t like Duck at all. Usually he had a big mouth and a short temper, but the crisis seemed to have brought out something more calculating in him. He’d told them stories about Vietnam, about patrols in the backcountry and sneaking behind enemy lines, but Ruger had always thought he was full of shit.
Now he wasn’t so sure.
“We can’t give you what you want,” Duck told Hunter. “Believe me, we want to. We’ve been looking for him all week. And this shit—this goes against our whole club. We voted on the truce and the decision was made. He’ll answer for that to the national officers. But don’t go hurting two innocent girls trying to force us to do something impossible. I promise you, either of them gets a scratch and your life will end. Got me?”
Hunter sat back in his chair, studying each man in turn.
“You seriously expect me to believe you can’t track down your own man?” he asked, cocking his head. “Sounds like the Reapers got some problems of their own.”
“That may be,” Horse said. “But it’s a fact—we can’t tell you where he is. I can’t make you believe that, but no matter what you do to Em and Sophie, it doesn’t change reality. We’ve had guys looking for him all week.”
“Let me guess, his brothers in Portland? Deke?” Hunter asked sarcastically. “Because they’ll cover his ass.”
“Not just Deke,” Horse replied. “And trust me, they want his ass as much as you do. This isn’t just about you—he broke faith with all of us. We voted. We made a truce.”
“Seriously, Hunter. We know jack shit about Toke,” Ruger said, somehow staying calm and matter-of-fact, despite the fact he wanted to jump over the table and cut the prick’s heart out. “I think you get we’re lookin’ at a war starting, right here, right now. Toke’s out of control and we all know it. Whatever happens to him, he brought on himself. But you takin’ our girls? That’s different. When we come after you, we’ll bring the whole damned club with us.”
“Em and Sophie are safe,” Hunter said. “And I promise they’ll stay that way, at least for now. But you aren’t getting them back.”
“How ’bout giving us one?” Duck asked. “Sophie’s got a kid. Send her back.”
Picnic stiffened, but he kept his mouth shut. This wasn’t part of the plan. Ruger saw where Duck was going with it, though. One was better than none, and if Hunter had a thing for Em, he’d be motivated to protect her. Not only that, Em would definitely want Sophie back with Noah. Ruger glanced over at Pic and saw understanding written on his face.
Fuck … He couldn’t even imagine what Picnic was going through right now. It was bad enough they had Sophie. If somebody tried to take away Noah, he’d lose his shit all over the place. Rain goddamn hellfire on them.
“What’ll you give me if I let her go?” Hunter asked. “I want something to take back to my club.”
“How about a hostage?” Painter said suddenly. “They’ve got one of your brothers—you take one of ours and let both girls go.”
Hunter gave a short laugh.
“Fuck that,” he said. “Your ugly asses aren’t worth shit to me. We want a Reaper, we’ll pick one up in Portland.”
He leaned forward, his eyes intense.
“I want peace,” Hunter continued. “Even with all this, I still want peace. Nothing in our situation has changed, and if you’re tellin’ me Toke is rogue, give me something to take to my club and maybe we can still save the truce.”
He pulled out his phone, glancing down at it.
“Back in five,” Hunter said. He stood and walked away, holding it to his ear.
“This is a waste of time,” Picnic said. “Deke was right—no point making peace with these f**kwads.”
Ruger nodded, and he heard his brothers murmur agreement. The entire club needed to reevaluate their decision, no question. Didn’t excuse Toke going rogue, but Ruger understood his motivations.
Hunter hung up his phone and turned back toward them. Almost immediately it rang again and he answered, studying their table the entire time. While his face stayed carefully blank, Ruger caught a hint of something wild in his eyes.
Then the Devil’s Jack hung up the phone once more and walked toward them.
“Good news and bad,” he said slowly. Ruger tensed.
“What’s that?” Duck asked.
“Clutch is alive,” he said. “At least for now. We don’t have much information on him yet. They took him to the hospital. That’s the good.”
“And the bad?” said Picnic.
“It was cops that found him and Toke,” Hunter replied. “Someone heard something and called it in. They caught Toke hiding in a hotel, our guy chained up in the bathroom. The girls who were in our house when he attacked are cooperating, so the cops have witnesses. They’ll put Toke in protective custody. Out of our reach, for now. The brothers won’t be happy about that.”
“You gonna give us back Sophie and Em?” Ruger asked.
The question hung heavy between them as Hunter leaned back and took another drink, face blank.
“Yes,” he said. “I’m doin’ it to prove we’re serious about the truce. Toke’s situation still isn’t resolved. But I’m willing to accept he wasn’t acting on behalf of the Reapers, pull that out of the equation.”
Ruger felt the band around his chest loosen for the first time since he’d gotten that panicked call from Sophie.
“When?” Picnic asked.
“Soon,” Hunter replied. “But I’m getting out of here alive first, I think. I’m sure you’ll see my concern?”
Duck snorted, almost a laugh.
“Yeah, I’d be concerned in your place, too,” he said. “We won’t forget this. Not sure that truce is gonna last after this little adventure.”
“Me neither,” Hunter admitted. “I’ll do my best. Hope you will, too. Skid’ll let the girls go once I give him the word. Won’t happen until I’m sure I’m safe, so you start trailing me, your girls stay locked up longer.”
“Understood,” Picnic said. “Make it fast.”
“One more thing,” Duck said. “The Toke situation—you got any pull with those witnesses? We’d like to handle this within the club as much as possible. Toke’ll keep his mouth shut, sure your boys will, too.”
Hunter shrugged.
“We’ll see what happens.”
“Right,” Duck said. “Keep Em and Sophie safe, got me? Otherwise I’ll personally skin you and use it to make lamp shades for the Armory.”
SOPHIE
Sometimes your brain tells you to do something and you know it’s wrong.
My brain told me to run faster when I heard Skid’s gun go off, to follow Em’s plan like a good little girl. I was supposed to get out and get help. No turning back. My son needed me … We agreed on it.
Not only that, saving Em was Picnic and Ruger’s job.
This wasn’t my fight.
But somehow I knew—in my gut and in my soul—that if I kept running, Skid would kill Em. Maybe he already had.
I couldn’t leave her behind.
So I stopped running and turned back toward the house, creeping up on it as quickly as I could, taking cover underneath a window on the living-room side. I listened for a second, hearing the muffled sound of Skid’s voice. Em answered him, her tone pleading. I figured that meant he was distracted, so I popped up for a quick peek.
Em lay on the floor, pressing against the outside of her left thigh with both hands. Bright red blood seeped between her fingers. Skid stood over her, gun pointed and ready, and the look on his face wasn’t friendly. This guy would be happy to kill her.
Fuck.
I looked around frantically, trying to think of a plan. I needed to stop him, and I needed to do it in a way that wouldn’t end with someone dead. I crawled quickly around the side of the house, where the open front porch held two wooden chairs and a small table. I tried peeking in the front window to see what was happening, but shades covered it.
Then I heard Em scream.
No more time.
I grabbed one of the chairs, pleased to find that it was solid wood and had a nice heft. Then I rang the doorbell and waited, holding my chair ready.
“Who’s out there?” Skid called.
I stayed quiet—I mean, what the hell was I supposed to say? Please come out so I can hit you? Using my elbow, I rang the bell again. My muscles started to burn from holding the chair. Hurry up, ass**le.
“Fuck off!” Skid yelled. Em must’ve done something to mess with him because I heard a crashing noise. I rang the bell five or six times in a row with my elbow like an annoying kid.
Skid threw the door open.
I clocked him hard in the face with the chair. He staggered and the gun went off, thankfully missing me. I ignored the ringing in my ears and swung the chair around and hit him again. He shuddered, then lunged toward me, blood running down his face from his smashed nose. I screamed as he grabbed the chair by its legs, jerking it away and raising it high.
Then Em was on him from behind.
She attacked like a rabid ferret, arms tightening around his neck as she bit and scratched and kicked. He lurched forward and I joined in, grabbing the second chair and swinging it at his knees. He gave a high scream as he pitched forward off the porch, Em riding him down into the dirt. I jumped after them, landing between his legs and kicking him in the crotch over and over again. Hopefully there wouldn’t be any little Skidlets in his future to carry on the family legacy.
Skid screamed like a baby the whole time.
And Em? I couldn’t tell if she was laughing or crying.
Ten minutes later, we’d handcuffed Skid’s bruised, bleeding body to a porch pillar. He’d passed out from the pain, which was probably a good thing. I didn’t want to look into his evil eyes or listen to whatever bullshit he might spew.
Now I sat in one of the porch chairs, his confiscated gun carefully braced against my leg, cocked and ready to shoot. I didn’t want to kill him, but I’d do it if I had to. I didn’t doubt that for a second.
Em hobbled out of the house, her leg bandaged in strips of sheet from the bedroom. Thankfully, the bullet had just lightly grazed her thigh. Still, her face was white and drawn from the pain.
Despite it all, she managed a small smile, holding up a cell phone in triumph.
“Dumbass has Google maps installed,” she said. “I know exactly where we are. I’m calling Dad to come and get us.”
She dialed.
“Hey, Dad? It’s me. We’re okay. Could use a ride, though.”
Her eyes flickered toward Skid as Picnic’s muffled voice burst out of the phone.
“No, it’s all good,” she answered. “But you might want to bring the van. We may need some cargo space.”
She gave them directions and hung up.
“They’ll be here in about twenty minutes,” Em told me. “They sounded pretty happy to hear from us.”
“Was Hunter with them?” I asked. As soon as the question left my mouth, I regretted it. Did I really want the answer? Em swallowed and looked away.
“No,” she said. “The meet was already over. I guess we missed him by maybe five minutes. He’s got good luck.”
I raised a brow, but kept my mouth shut. Em dropped the phone to the ground, then stomped on it, and I heard the crunch of glass and plastic.
“What the hell?” I asked, startled. “Why’d you do that?”
“GPS,” she said shortly. “I don’t want the Devil’s Jacks tracing us with it, and we can’t leave it here.”
“What if we need it again?”
“We won’t,” she said. “Dad and Ruger will find us. Don’t worry. By tomorrow it’ll be like this never happened. In fact, I don’t want to talk about it and I don’t want to think about it. Got me?”
“Got you,” I said, narrowing my eyes. Em grabbed the second chair and dragged it over toward me, sitting down.
“Want me to take the gun for a while?”
“Thanks,” I said, handing it over. It was surprisingly heavy, and after the first few minutes my hand had started cramping. I stretched my fingers, looking out across the long gravel driveway into the trees.
“No offense,” I said slowly. “But that was the shittiest girls’ night out ever.”
Em gave a short, startled snort of laughter.
“Ya think?”

[Dinoysus]

CHAPTER XV

RUGER
They crested the small rise overlooking the house and Picnic slowed, raising a hand for the others to stop.
Ruger pulled up next to him.
Holy f**k.
“That’s my girl,” Picnic said, his voice full of pride. “Goddamn, did something right with her.”
“Both our girls,” Ruger muttered. He felt his chest unclenching, a ball of tension he hadn’t even realized was there letting go. “Shit, didn’t know she had it in her.”
Em and Sophie sat on the front porch like two neighbors visiting over sweet tea, except Em held a gun trained steady on Skid. His mangled, bloody form lay in the dirt, arms stretched up behind him and wrapped around the porch pole.
“Think she killed him?” Ruger asked.
“Hope not,” Picnic replied. “Bad enough already, without her having to live with that. Not to mention messy as f**k for us to clean up.”
“That’s the truth,” Ruger replied.
“It’s Dad, we’re here for you!” Picnic yelled down, waving at her. Em kept her eyes on Skid and her gun didn’t waver.
“Glad you came,” she called back. “I could really use some help.”
“He the only one?” Pic asked.
“Hunter left a couple hours ago,” she shouted. “It was only the two of them.”
They rode slowly down the hill toward the house. Ruger studied Sophie carefully as he parked his bike, but he couldn’t see any signs of serious harm. She looked exhausted, her eyes darkened with smudged makeup, but that was all. Em seemed worse off—her face was pale and a bruise was starting to form on her cheek. White, bloodied strips of fabric had been tied around her leg.
“Stay where you are, girls,” Pic said shortly as he dismounted his ride. Ruger did the same, following him over to the man on the ground.
Skid was in rough shape. He wasn’t moving, and Ruger saw trickles of blood seeping from his nose and mouth. More soaked the dirt, although he couldn’t see where it was coming from. Ruger approached the man carefully, kneeling down to check his pulse.
Still alive. The beat was faint but steady.
“He’s not dead,” he said. “What’s the plan?”
Picnic rolled Skid with a foot. Now they saw the wound—he had a gaping gash on the back of his head.
“He’s been bleeding, but not too bad,” Em said. “Don’t know if he’s passed out from a head injury or from shock. Sophie kicked his nuts to hell and back.”
Ruger felt an instinctive shrinking in his own nether region and glanced up at Sophie. She gazed down at them, her face as smooth as a sphinx’s.
Perfectly calm. Way too calm. Shock, Ruger figured.
Picnic stepped up to his daughter and held out his hand for the gun. She gave it to him, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close.
Ruger looked to Sophie again and she turned away. Then he heard the crunch of footsteps in the driveway behind him.
“How we gonna play this?” Bam Bam asked, eyeing Skid. Ruger glanced over at his president, wondering the same thing. Would they put the bastard in the ground or not?
“Not in front of the girls,” Picnic said, squeezing Em tight. “Ruger, you and Painter take them, get them safe. Call the medic. He can meet you at the clubhouse. We’ll clean up here.”
Em shook her head, growing tense.
“Don’t kill him,” she said. “You do that, there’s going to be even more fighting.”
“This is about the club, Em,” Picnic replied softly. She glanced down at Skid, then leaned up on her toes, whispering in her father’s ear.
Picnic stiffened.
Em pulled away, eyes clearly pleading.
He shook his head at her and she crossed her arms, taking a step back. Interesting. Picnic narrowed his eyes, and the two stared at each other for long seconds. Then Picnic sighed.
“Okay, we’ll take him with us and dump him somewhere he’ll be found,” he said. “See if you can find something to bandage him up with, Bam.”
Ruger looked down at Skid. Intellectually, he knew letting him live was probably a good idea. All other issues aside, Em and Sophie didn’t need that kind of baggage.
He still wanted the f**ker dead, though.
They could always take him out later. If they did it right, the girls would never know.
SOPHIE
I didn’t know how to feel as I rode home with Ruger, exhausted and drained from the adrenaline. We’d separated from the rest of the club, which broke into different groups going different places. He’d wanted me to get checked out by a friend of the club who was an EMT, but I insisted I was fine.
Which I was. Physically.
But now that it was over, I was so furious with Ruger that I wanted to scream and hit and kick his big, dumb ass for getting me into this shit. I also wanted him to hold me and make me feel safe again, which was ridiculous.
I’d never be safe around him.
More than anything, though, I wanted to get back to Noah. I wanted to hold him tight and make sure we never, ever had to worry about something like this happening again. Different plans kept running through my head, including changing my name and moving to a different state entirely. But I had a good job now, one that might actually let us get ahead.
I just needed a wall between me and Ruger. I’d draw the line—him on his side and me on mine, with no crossover. If I did that, we’d be fine.
But even angry with him, it felt right and safe to lean against his back as we drove, arms wrapped tight around his stomach. Every inch of Ruger was strong and solid. The leather of his cut lay under my cheek, broken by the embroidered fabric of his Reapers patches. His stomach was made of hard muscle that rippled under my fingers every time he leaned to take a curve.
For now—just for the next twenty minutes—I’d let myself touch him, savor his presence.
Then we’d go our separate ways.
When we finally pulled around the back of Elle’s barn to the little gravel parking area in front of my new apartment, I dropped my arms and let him go. I didn’t let myself feel sad.
I tried not to let myself feel anything.
He swung off the bike and took my hand, leading me over to the door, which was a good thing. I felt like I was trapped in a dream, everything distant and surreal.
“Crap,” I muttered, looking at the lock. “I don’t have my keys. They’re in my purse, and I have no idea what happened to it, or my phone.”
“They might find your purse at the house,” Ruger said. “Your phone is gone. I’ll get you a new one tomorrow.”
He let me go and turned back to his bike, digging through one of the saddlebags to pull out a small black leather pouch. When he came back and opened it, I saw a collection of strange little tools.
“Lock picks,” he said shortly.
“So this is just another part of your life?” I asked, numb. “You just go around, ready and waiting to break into places?”
He glanced up at me and opened his mouth to speak. Something in my face must have caught his attention, because his expression softened.
“Babe, I’m a locksmith, used to be my job,” he said, his voice gentle. “Locksmith, gunsmith—if it’s made of metal and has tiny little parts, I like working with it. When I was a kid I built shit out of Legos; now I have big-boy toys. For a while I worked full-time doing lockout calls. Sometimes it’s not about scary stuff, okay?”
I nodded, but I wasn’t sure if I believed him.
“Whatever,” I murmured. The door clicked open and I walked in, looking around. Everything was just like I’d left it the day before. Normal. All normal. It could almost have been a dream.
“You need to get cleaned up,” he said. “I’ll call Kimber and tell her to bring Noah home in an hour or so. I don’t want him freaking out.”
“Was he worried about me?” I asked, walking over to get a drink of water. I considered offering him one, and then didn’t, because f**k Ruger. The little surge of anger was good—made me feel less numb.
“I’m sure he was,” he replied. “Kimber’s been with him the whole time, though. They’ve been watching movies and shit. I talked to him for about five minutes this morning but I haven’t seen him. I was focused on getting you back.”
I turned to look at him, so big he seemed to fill my tiny living room.
“Soph, we need to talk,” he said slowly, looking almost nervous. “I need you to tell me everything that happened. Did they … hurt … you?”
I snorted.
“Um, yeah, they hurt me,” I said, reaching up to touch my bruised cheek. “They threw me in a van, tied me up, and held me prisoner while threatening to kill me because of some bullshit with your club that I don’t understand or care about. So yeah, that part kind of sucked. Thanks for asking.”
“Did they rape you?” he asked bluntly. I shook my head. His face softened with relief, and he walked toward me. I held my hand up flat, halting him.
Limits. Time to set them.
“Ruger, we’ve been playing around, and it’s over,” I said, focusing my eyes on his chest. His 1% patch taunted me, reminding me exactly why this had to happen. “I know I’ve said that before, but everything’s changed now. It doesn’t matter how you make me feel or how nice you are. Your club is dangerous, and I don’t want anything to do with any of you. Noah and I, we can’t afford that.”
He stilled.
“I can see why you might feel that way—” he started to say, but I cut him off.
“No, you really can’t,” I said. “You didn’t spend the night handcuffed to a bed, wondering if you’d get raped or murdered. You didn’t hear your friend screaming in the dark, or hear a gunshot when you tried to escape. We could have died, Ruger … So here’s the way it’s going to be from now on. I’ll let you see Noah once a week. We’ll make the plans in advance. You’ll keep him away from your club and you won’t talk to him about motorcycles. You won’t wear your damned colors and you won’t do anything that could ever lead to any kind of danger. You’ll call me to make arrangements and you’ll pick him up and drop him off when and where I tell you.”
His eyes hardened and his jaw clenched. I felt his anger and frustration in the air around me like a tangible thing, which was actually kind of funny because I didn’t give a flying f**k what he thought of my plans.
Not anymore.
“You’ll follow my rules,” I continued. “Or I’ll never let Noah see you again. Believe me, I’ll do it. In fact, I’d like to do it right now, but I know how much he loves you and it would be devastating to him. So we’ll try this out, and if it works, great. It doesn’t work or I feel like he’s in danger? You’re gone.”
“You can’t do that,” he said. He started toward me again. I stood my ground as he closed in, doing that domination thing, getting into my space. I stared up at him, his chest about three inches from my chin, and I didn’t care how big and scary he was.
I didn’t care about anything.
“I’m his mother. You have no rights. None. I let you see him because I’m a nice person, and I can stop being nice at any time. Do not f**k with me, Ruger.”
He reached up and touched my face lightly, running his finger across my cheek. It sent shivers down my back, and just like that I wanted him.
“I won’t f**k around,” he said. “Just so you know. I nearly lost you. I won’t risk that again. I told you before I’d never be a one-woman man, but I was wrong.”
I looked in his face, studying his eyes. He meant it. I thought about lying in bed with him … I wanted to give in. I wanted him.
It didn’t matter.
“Too late,” I said, and I meant it. “I’m done with you, and I’m f**king serious. Get. Out. Of. My. House.”
He held my gaze, then the miracle happened.
Ruger listened.
He backed away, turned, and walked out of the house. I heard his bike roar to life outside and then the sound of him riding away.
I’d done it. I’d finally managed to put Ruger in his place. Unfortunately, I was too tired to enjoy it.
MONDAY
KIMBER: How u doing?
ME: Ok. Noah’s still kind of clingy. You did a good job but he was still scared. Thank you so much for taking care of him. Im so glad he was safe
KIMBER: That’s what friends do—u wud do it for me. I’ve been thinkng about u … U want to get together, maybe talk?
ME: No. Just want to lay low for a while
WEDNESDAY
MARIE: Hey Sophie! Me and Maggs and Dancer want to hang out tomorrow night … Want to join us?
ME: Thanks but probably not. You have fun
MARIE: Okay. How are you?
ME: Im fine
MARIE: You talked to Em?
ME: No. She ok?
MARIE: Not sure. She wont tell me anything. I’m worried … Did anythng happen we should know about? I mean, while you guys were … wherever? Maybe we can get together and talk
ME: Im fine, just want to stick to myself and Noah for a while. Em and I werent together the whole time. If you want to know more, you need to get it from her
MARIE: Okay. We’re worried about you too … How are things
ME: Fine. I just want space
MARIE: I get that. But please call if you need us ((hugs))
THURSDAY
DANCER: Hey. how goes it? Maybe we could let the kids play this afternoon?
ME: Um, we’re pretty busy right now.
DANCER: Know how that goes … Did you remember Maries bachelorette party? Its a week from Friday. We have a sitter, she offered to watch Noah too
ME: Not sure I’ll maek it. I’ll find my own sitter
DANCER: Okay. Don’t hide out too long
FRIDAY
KIMBER: This is bullshit. I get ur pissed at Ruger and Reapers but I’m not one of them, u can’t freeze me out. You guys come over tonight or I’m sending Ryan to get u
ME: Noah and I are watching movies at home
KIMBER: No. Ur coming to my house. We’re having a party. I need backup!!! NO Reapers. Nromal people. Kids too. U and Noah be here at six or I will come and get you. Not f**king around.
ME: Your a pushy bitch
KIMBER: Ya think? Get ur ass here or I’ll come for u. No excuses. Bring swimsuits and a dessert
My brand-new iPhone said it was five fifty-six when we pulled up to Kimber’s house. Ruger had dropped it off the previous Sunday, the day after my little adventure with Em. I wanted to tell him to go to hell, but I needed a phone, and I figured he could afford it better than I could. I didn’t feel guilty about it, either. It was his fault I’d gotten kidnapped in the first place, so I might as well blame him for drowning my phone.
I didn’t let him into the house. Noah wanted to go to his house and I told him no. Then I shut the door in Ruger’s face.
Now it was Friday night and I’d caved to Kimber’s ultimatum, because I knew she was serious when she said they’d come and get me. I held a plate of brownies in one hand and a bag of swim gear in the other, and when Kimber’s husband, Ryan, opened the door, I had to smile. He wore neon-green swim trunks and a purple Hawaiian-print shirt. On his head was an orange cowboy hat, and he held a Super Soaker in one hand.
Coming here had been a good idea, I realized.
“Welcome to the party,” he said, smiling at me broadly.
“Nice look,” I said, eyeing his outfit.
“Hey, it takes a very confident man to pull something like this off,” he said without an ounce of shame.
“Did you lose a bet?” I asked, smirking.
“As a matter of fact, he did,” said another man, coming over to stand next to Ryan. He had longish, scruffy brown hair and a great smile, and the look in his eyes said he appreciated my appearance. He also held a Super Soaker, although he wore perfectly normal trunks and a T-shirt that said “Code Monkey Like You.”
I’d seen his picture before—this was the guy Kimber had wanted to set me up with.
“Ryan and I had a little programming challenge at work, and I kicked his ass. Hi, I’m Josh. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” I said, glancing down at my full hands helplessly. “Um, sorry, I’d offer to shake your hand, but …”
He laughed, and then his eyes widened almost comically as he saw the brownies.
“Let me help you with those,” he said, reaching out to grab the treats. “And who is this?”
“I’m Noah,” my boy announced. “Do you have any more of those Soakers, Ryan?”
“I have a whole box out back,” Ryan replied. “You want to come pick one out? We have a bunch of kids out there. I’ll bet they’d love to play with you.”
“Mom?” He looked up at me, eyes pleading.
“Go ahead,” I said, feeling almost carefree. Kimber was right. I had needed to get out, and coming to a nice, suburban party like this was just what I needed. No Reapers, no kidnappings, nothing bad at all.
I could do this.
Noah took off through the house, followed by Ryan. Josh looked down at me, offering a friendly smile.
“So, once we get this stuff settled, could I get you a drink?”
“Sure,” I said. “So tell me, how long have you and Ryan worked together?”
Three hours later I was feeling pretty good about life. Josh turned out to be a great guy, spending a good chunk of the night hanging out with me, but not so much that it felt weird. Ryan grilled burgers and hot dogs, the kids played in the pool, and Kimber’s blender ran almost constantly, churning out margaritas in every imaginable flavor. I stuck with iced tea and laughed so hard I nearly cried when Ryan caught her and threw her into the pool.
The mob of kids kept growing, and I met so many people I couldn’t begin to keep them all straight. Most were from Kimber’s neighborhood or Ryan’s work—sleek, polished yoga moms and their slightly dorky husbands who worked as accountants and IT professionals. Nothing like the Reapers’ party.
The first time I’d met Ryan, I didn’t understand him and Kimber together. He was so geeky and she was so wild and cool—but they balanced each other out perfectly. I was holding Ava and sitting by the pool after eating when Josh came over and flopped into a chair next to me.
“So,” he said, grinning at me. “I’ve got a question for you.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“You and Noah want to hit Chuck E. Cheese’s for dinner tomorrow?” he said. “I know it’s not the most romantic setting, but I’ve got this theory about skee-ball that needs testing, and I figured he’d be an excellent assistant.”
I burst out laughing.
“Are you insane? Chuck E. Cheese’s on a Saturday night is crazy. I bet you wouldn’t last an hour.”
His eyes brightened.
“Is that a challenge?” he asked. “You sure you’re up to it?”
“You’re too funny,” I said, shaking my head.
“Funny enough to get a date with you tomorrow?” he said, offering a sly smile. “I’d go for the brooding, manly thing and try to be all mysterious, but I’ve never really been able to pull it off.”
I sobered, thinking of Ruger. The two men couldn’t have been more different, that was for sure.
“Um, I’m not really looking for a boyfriend,” I said slowly. “And I’ll be honest—you bring a seven-year-old on a date, you’re probably not gonna get some at the end.”
He shrugged.
“It’s just an evening,” he said. “No big deal. Besides that, I’ve got a deep, dark secret to share with you.”
He leaned toward me, waving me in close. I shifted, balancing Ava as he spoke in my ear.
“I really do have an amazing skee-ball theory,” he said, his voice grave and serious. “It needs experimentation. You’d be doing me a huge favor.”
I started laughing again, pulling away.
“Does that line actually work for you?” I asked. He smiled at me.
“I don’t know, does it?”
I thought about Ruger, how he made me feel and compared it to this man. Josh didn’t give me chills when I felt his breath against my ear, but he was nice to look at and seemed fun and friendly. And how much trouble could we get into on a date at a kiddie pizza place, anyway?
“Okay,” I said, feeling proud of myself. I’d move past Ruger—this was the perfect first step. “That would be fun. But just friendly. I’m really not looking to get serious with anyone.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, grinning at me. “We’ll just go and have some fun—and Ryan can vouch for me. I’m not an undercover supervillian, no dark secrets, nothing. What you see is what you get.”
I started to reply, but a thick stream of water suddenly hit the side of my head, drenching me as Ava shrieked. I look up to see Noah running away with a small pack of boys, screeching in triumph. Little shit …
“I need to go dry off,” I told Josh.
“Want me to go defend your honor?” he asked, holding up his Soaker.
“Yeah, you do that.”
He stood and saluted me, eyes dancing with laughter, then tore off after the mob of children shooting each other and running around the grass.
I found Ryan by the grill. He held a beer in one hand and a pair of tongs in the other, and as he shifted them to take Ava, he smiled at me.
“You know, Josh’s a real good guy,” he said. “I’ve known him a couple of years.”
“Um, he seems nice,” I replied awkwardly. Ryan laughed.
“Don’t worry—no pressure,” he said. “Just wanted to let you know he’s not a serial killer.”
“Good to know,” I said. “Thanks for having me over. Thanks for everything, actually.”
“No problem,” he said. “Kimber thinks you’re the shit. You know, it’s not that easy for her to find friends, despite what you’d think. You’re special to her.”
That startled me.
“Kimber’s always had more friends than anyone,” I said, laughing.
His face sobered and he shook his head. “No, she’s always got more people at her parties than anyone. There’s a big difference.”
I didn’t know what to say. Ryan shrugged, and smiled again.
“Go get dried off,” he added. “We’ve got sparklers for the kids once it’s totally dark. I’ll need help, and Kimber’s useless after three margaritas.”
I smiled hesitantly and walked inside. Off to the left was a family room, with the kitchen and a breakfast bar off to the right. My sandal caught on the doorway, pulling the strap loose, so I dropped down to fix it just inside the entry.
“Jesus, did you see what Ryan’s wearing?” I heard a woman say in the kitchen.
“I know,” said another. “And Kimber’s not much better. Could that bikini be smaller? You know she’s a giant slut, right? She used to be a stripper. I just hope they leave before Ava hits school. I don’t want Kaitlyn in her class.”
“No kidding. That’s why I moved to this neighborhood—I wanted all our neighbors to be normal, not trashy. And her friend … God, she must’ve been, what, ten years old when she had her kid?”
“I saw her skanking all over Josh. Disgusting.”
My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out of my pocket to find a text from Marie.
Hey. I know things are weird, but I really hope you’ll come to my bachelorette party next weekend. We’re all hanging out tonight and thinking about how much more fun it would be with you here! xoxo
“So, my pedicure girl moved to a new salon. All Vietnamese, and I hate how they talk to each other without speaking in English. So rude!” said the woman in the kitchen.
“You’re sooo right. I never leave a tip when they do that. They should be speaking English if they’re going to live here …”
I stood up and walked through the kitchen, piercing each of the women in turn with a sweet smile. Bitches. How dare they gossip about Kimber, in her own house? I couldn’t believe they’d get drunk on her booze while ripping her apart like that.
At least nobody was whipping out knives.
Not metal ones, anyway.
I wanted to go home.
“You got it, bud,” Josh said, watching intensely as Noah lined up his shot at the skee-ball machine. I had to laugh. Josh had been joking about his theory … mostly. The man really did love the game. It turned out Noah loved it, too, so things had worked out pretty well.
We’d been at Chuck E. Cheese’s for nearly three hours, and I’d had a blast. Josh was easy to be around. He didn’t stress me out and he didn’t scare me. We’d eaten dinner, and to give him credit, he ate the nasty pizza they served without a single snide comment (not even I could pull that off). Then he bought Noah more tokens than he’d ever seen before and we’d hit the games.
Now it was almost nine and I knew we needed to get Noah out soon or things could get ugly. I touched Josh’s arm, catching his attention. He turned and grinned at me, looking like a big, happy puppy.
“We need to head home,” I said, nodding toward my son. “He’s tired. Don’t want to push him too hard.”
“Understood,” Josh replied. He put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close, giving me a squeeze. “You’ve got a good kid there.”
I smiled, because I knew he was right. Also because I liked his arm around my shoulder. Josh didn’t make my heart explode like Ruger did, but he had a good sense of humor and was fun to be around. That had to count for something.
We fed all of the tickets we’d won (and it seemed like thousands of them) into the chomping machines, which caused Noah intense delight. Then we spent another twenty minutes at the prize counter as he agonized over which tiny plastic rings or erasers to pick.
The sun had set when we finally walked outside. The pizza place was in one of those strip malls with free-standing restaurants in the parking lot. I looked over at the steak house longingly, still a little hungry—I’d only managed to choke down half a slice. Josh bumped my shoulder.
“Maybe next time we can get a grown-up meal,” he said.
“Is that your way of asking me out again?” I asked, coming to a stop next to my car. Noah bounced around next to me happily, playing with his new treasures. I looked up at Josh and smiled. He smiled back, and I was struck by how cute he was. Geeky cute, like Ryan.
I could do a lot worse.
“Depends on what the answer would be,” he replied, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I hate getting shot down.”
“I don’t think you’d get shot down,” I said. He leaned forward and kissed me lightly on the lips. It was nice—not hot and intense, but pleasant.
“Uncle Ruger!” Noah yelled, and I felt him take off running. I pulled away from Ryan instantly, my mommy radar fully engaged. I bolted after him, shouting his name and yelling at him to stop. He ignored me, jumping into Ruger’s arms where he stood on the sidewalk outside the steak house.
Several other guys from the club were with him.
“Noah, you can’t run off like that!” I said, catching Noah’s chin so his eyes had to meet mine. “You could get killed. You know better—you’re a big boy now.”
“I’m sorry,” he said instantly. “I forgot. I got excited. I wanted to show Uncle Ruger my prizes.”
Shit, I’d been so worried about Noah, I wasn’t even thinking about Ruger. I looked up to find him staring across the lot.
“Who’s your friend?” he asked, jerking his chin toward Josh, who gave us a halfhearted wave.
“That’s Josh,” I said defiantly. “He’s a friend of Kimber’s husband. They work together.”
“He took us to Chuck E. Cheese’s and we played tons of games and I got all kinds of prizes but I didn’t have enough tickets to get what I really wanted so he said maybe we could come back another time and I said yes,” Noah told him breathlessly. “He’s pretty cool, Ruger.”
Ruger’s eyes hardened, and he set Noah down.
“Stay here, kid,” he said. Then he stepped out across the parking lot, obviously planning to intercept Josh. Fuck.
“Stay,” I said to Noah, then glanced up at Bam Bam. “Will you make sure he doesn’t run off?”
Dancer’s husband gave a quick nod, but his eyes weren’t exactly friendly.
Great.
I scurried off toward Ruger and Josh.
“Hey,” I said, looking between them. Ruger’s face was like stone, his eyes glinting with possessive menace. Josh looked confused and a little uncertain. “Josh, this is Noah’s uncle, Ruger. Ruger, this is my friend Josh. We were just leaving. Sorry about Noah bothering you.”
“Noah never bothers me,” Ruger said, cocking his head at Josh, who tried to offer him a smile.
“He’s a great kid,” Josh said. “You must be proud of him.”
“Yup,” Ruger said to him. “You need to go now. Probably be best if you don’t call Sophie again.”
Josh’s eyes widened.
“Go f**k yourself, Ruger,” I snapped. Josh glanced over at me, looking nervous. “Josh, please ignore him. He’s leaving.”
“Nope, I’m not leaving,” Ruger said pointedly. “And I won’t be leaving. You’re not welcome here. Don’t know what Sophie’s told you, but she’s taken.”
“That’s not true,” I said quickly. Josh looked between us, swallowing.
“You need a hand, Ruger?” Horse called from the sidewalk. He offered Josh a wolfish smile.
“Not with this ass**le,” Ruger replied, holding Josh’s eyes steadily. Josh broke, looking away.
“Um, I gotta get going,” he said, offering me a quick, sheepish smile. Then he turned and walked away very quickly.
I stared, dumbfounded.
“Looks like your new boyfriend scares easy,” Ruger murmured. “Didn’t even make sure you were safe with me. Wouldn’t want a man like that at my back. Of course, I don’t need to worry about backup. My brothers are there for me, no matter what.”
He took my shoulders and turned me toward the steak house. I saw Horse, Bam Bam, Duck, and Slide standing around my son. Bam held Noah’s shoulder protectively. Ruger leaned down behind me, speaking softly in my ear as his fingers squeezed my shoulders.
“Look at that,” he said. “You know them, so you know Noah couldn’t be safer. But your buddy Josh? He knows shit about those guys. That didn’t stop him from walking away to cover his own ass while they had your son. Hell of a man you’ve found.”
I swallowed, because I knew he was right.
So Josh wouldn’t be getting a second date if he bothered to call. Probably a moot point, because I had a feeling he wouldn’t.
“You need to stay out of my life,” I told Ruger, watching Noah carefully show off his prizes, offering Horse one of his precious rings. Horse accepted it, sliding it a quarter of the way down his pinkie.
Noah glowed with pride.
“Yeah, I’ll get right on that,” Ruger said. “Don’t take Noah out with a guy like that again. You’ll send him the wrong message.”
“None of your business.”
“It’ll always be my business.”
“You don’t get to win every single time,” I told him seriously. “Just because you say something, that doesn’t mean it’s true.”
“Just ’cause I say it doesn’t mean I’m wrong, either.”
I glared at him, then marched over and collected Noah, trying not to grit my teeth. I took him home and put him to bed, feeling bitchy the entire time.
When I fell asleep that night, it wasn’t Josh I was dreaming of. Nope, stupid Ruger. Again.
Even in my dreams he won.

[Dinoysus]

CHAPTER XVI

SUNDAY
KIMBER: Josh won’t tell Ryan anyting about ur date. Did somethig go wrong?
ME: Ruger
KIMBER:???
ME: We had a great time then Ruger showed up. Pretty sure I’ll never hear from Josh again
KIMBER: Jesus Ruger. Stalk much?!?!???
ME: No it wasn’t like that. He was having dinner with the guys we ran into him in the parking lot. He had a little bullshit talk with Josh then Josh ran off. I realize he doesn’t know us very well but he didnt even make sure Noah and I were safe when he left. Epic fail all around
KIMBER: Pisser. Josh loses margarita privileges. Hate wimps
ME: Meh …
KIMBER: So u talk to Ruger at all?
ME: Nope. Fuck him
KIMBER: Gotcha. Hey u going to the bachelorette party? Marie invited me and I wnat to go, but it would be wiered without u
ME: Can’t decide. Like her and would love it, but … you know …
KIMBER: Yup, I get it. Keep me posted
MONDAY
RUGER: Can I pick Noah up after school? Got a thing I want to take him to
ME: What kind of thing?
RUGER: Got a friend who races, his car is down at the track. Said Noah could have a ride
ME: Is it safe???
RUGER: Safe as any car. He’ll go slow
ME: Biker friend?
RUGER: No. No colors, no Reapers. Don’t agree with you on that, but I’m giving you time
ME: I dont need time. I need you gone
RUGER: Can I take him or not?
ME: Okay. Home by 6?
RUGER: 7 work? I’ll get him dinner
ME: Sounds good. No games, tho. Drop him off and leave
RUGER: I hear you. No games
WEDNESDAY
DANCER: So you coming to party or not? Marie really wants you there.
ME: Um …
DANCER: Please come. I know things are shit with you and Ruger. I don’t care, neither does Marie. We’d love to have you there.
ME: Okay. Dont want to stay out too late tho. I have work on Friday
DANCER: No prob. Even a few hours would be great for Marie. Kimber, too? She’s fun. Um, coul dyou ask her to bring her blender, too? Starting at my place before hitting bars …
ME: Dork :p
DANCER: Not dorky to know what you want
ME: Guess not. I’ll see if Elle can watch Noah
DANCER: You can share our sitter if you need to
ME: Rather have him closer to home. More likely to sleep. Oour lives have been crazy lately and he has school tomorrow
DANCER: See you tomorrow night <3
ME: Sounds good
THURSDAY
KIMBER: Can’t believe she’s having the party on a thursday. Sucks, Ryan has to work tomorrow. Hangover and baby don’t mix!!!!!!!!!!
ME: You don’t have to drink, you know.
KIMBER: Shut the f**k up. Ur not drinking?
ME: No—work in morning.
KIMBER: You preggo or something?
ME: Oh, you’re funny
KIMBER: :-> So u know why a thursday?
ME: Marie said she’s got a thing with her mom this weekend. Spa or something
KIMBER: Jealous. We should do that
ME: Right after I win the lottery
KIMBER: Hmmm … ur gonna have to start buying tickets
ME: Why don’t you buy for both of us?
KIMBER: So long as I get to drink for both of us, I’m down with that! SMOOCHES
“Fuck!” Marie screamed, spinning around. “I lost my veil!”
She stood up in the limo’s open sunroof. It was just after midnight, and we’d decided to cruise down along the Coeur d’Alene lake before hitting our final destination, a karaoke bar.
About an hour ago, Marie had declared she wanted—no, needed—to sing “Pour Some Sugar on Me” before the night ended. It’d been playing when she and Horse met, and apparently the world would end if we didn’t sing it again tonight.
We knew this because she’d been very clear: The existence of the world literally depended on successful completion of this karaoke mission.
As one of the most sober women in the limo, I’d been assigned to make sure we didn’t get distracted and forget. Seeing as I wasn’t one hundred percent sober, I’d carefully written this on my inner arm with a pen as a reminder.
Now I stood next to her, watching in horror as the little white scrap of tulle she wore on her head flew through the air toward Painter, who followed us on his bike. Holy shit. Would it make him crash?
Apparently a drifting veil wasn’t a serious road hazard to a bike going twenty-five miles an hour, because he avoided it easily enough. The prospect following him—one I’d seen at the Armory party but hadn’t met—pulled off to go fetch it.
Nice.
“That’s good service,” I told Marie. She started giggling, and then she fell down into the limo, officially drunk off her ass.
I popped back down, too.
Dancer lay back across one of the seats, laughing so hard she was crying. Maggs had her shirt up, flashing her boobs while Kimber took a picture. Wasn’t sure I wanted the whole story on that one. A woman I’d just met named Darcy was pouring champagne in that very slow, very deliberate way drunk people have. Unfortunately she’d forgotten the glass.
I hoped whoever arranged the rental had coverage for that kind of thing.
A woman with short, curly, reddish-blonde hair sat giggling in the corner. Back when she could still speak in full sentences, Marie had introduced her as Cookie. She used to live in Coeur d’Alene but had moved, and now Marie managed the coffee shop she still owned in town.
Em and I looked at each other and she rolled her eyes.
I’d decided not to drink too much because I had work in the morning, but I was still in a pretty good mood. Definitely planning on a cab ride home. Em, though … She had a haunted look in her eyes that bothered me. No wonder the girls had been worried about her—something was obviously wrong.
“So why don’t they just go home?” I asked Em, scooting over to sit next to her.
“Who?”
“Painter and the other guy, Banks.”
“Banks will stick with us all night,” she said quietly. “He’s supposed to keep an eye on us, make sure we make it home safe. I guess Painter’s just along for the ride—maybe he’s worried after what went down with Hunter and Skid.”
“He was watching you while you were dancing,” I said. “He may not have seemed interested before, but he’s definitely interested now.”
“I could give a f**k,” she replied, her voice flat. “Painter, Hunter … men in general. I think I’m swearing off them entirely. Too bad I can’t just flip a switch and go lesbian.”
“Pretty sure it doesn’t work that way,” I said, sighing. “Men really are a giant pain in the ass, aren’t they?”
“Speaking of, how’s Ruger?” she asked. “I hear you’re fighting with each other.”
“Um, that seems a bit strong,” I said. “I’d say we’re just not talking much, which is what I wanted. No offense, but after what happened, I don’t think I want anything to do with the club.”
She sighed.
“I can understand that,” she replied. “You didn’t exactly get a good intro. I know it probably doesn’t seem this way, but they’re actually really good guys. It’s not like this shit happens all the time.”
The car swayed, and Dancer crashed into us.
“You are boring!” she yelled in our faces. “We’re having a good time here. If you don’t sing me something good at the bar, I’m making you ride with Painter.”
Um, no. I would rather have my eyes poked out than do karaoke.
I didn’t say that, though. I just smiled politely and decided this was a sign—I’d call a cab after Marie sang her song. I had to be up in six hours, so that was probably for the best anyway. At least I didn’t have to worry about Noah—Elle had taken him, offering to keep him overnight and get him ready for school the next day. That was a huge help.
“Oh my God!” Maggs squealed suddenly. We all froze. “We haven’t done presents yet!”
“Presents!” Marie yelled, clapping her hands. “I love presents!”
Maggs lurched down to the front of the limo and pulled back a big basket full of unopened packages and envelopes. She grabbed one at random, throwing it to Marie.
“Who’s it from?” Darcy asked. Marie tried to focus on the writing, then shook her head.
“Can’t tell,” she said. “They have really, really messy handwriting.”
“Here,” I said. “Let me look.”
She handed it over.
“The tag was printed off a computer,” I said, snorting. “It’s not even a fancy script or something. You’re too drunk to read. Oh, and it’s from Cookie.”
Marie pouted.
“It’s not my fault you guys bought all those shots,” she said. “It’s not like I could let them go to waste! That’s just wrong.”
Darcy nodded sagely.
“She’s right—if you throw away booze at your bachelorette party, the marriage is doomed.”
“You say that about everything,” I accused. “The marriage is doomed if she doesn’t order the steak and the shrimp. The marriage is doomed if she doesn’t dance with at least ten guys. The marriage is doomed if she doesn’t tell us how big Horse’s dick really is. How can all of that be true?”
“I know these things,” she declared. “Am I right, ladies?”
“Hell yes,” Dancer chimed in. “Darcy knows her shit. If she says the marriage is doomed if Marie doesn’t drink enough, it’s time to start pouring shots down her throat!”
“Right now it’s time to open presents!” Maggs yelled. “Ladies, we need to focus. The marriage is doomed if she doesn’t get these open before we hit the karaoke bar!”
“Shit,” Marie said, her eyes opening wide in panic. She ripped into the bag, peeked down inside, and started giggling madly. Then she pulled out a giant double-headed jelly dildo in swirling colors.
“Oh, Cookie,” she said, sighing. “It’s beautiful! How did you know?”
We all burst out laughing, and Maggs grabbed another present. This one was from Darcy, and I shit you not, it was a giant, strap-on cock.
“That’s so you can put Horse in his place,” she told Marie. “That man’s ego needs controlling, and that’s a great tool to do it with.”
“I love it,” Marie whispered. “Oh, I cannot wait to try this.”
“You think he’d actually let you use it on him?” I asked. She started giggling.
“I think just the sight of it will make his head explode,” she said. “It’s all about creating the right kind of romantic mood, you know?”
Em got her a beautifully illustrated Kama Sutra, Dancer got her a thong that said “Support Your Local Reapers MC” on it (along with a little Reaper’s skull), I got her sensual massage oils, and Kimber got her some sort of electronic thing that we all just looked at, trying to figure out what the hell it was.
“Read the instructions,” Kimber said. “Trust me, you turn this baby on, you’re gonna love it.”
Marie tilted it, obviously confused, and I tried to figure out where it would even fit on a person’s body.
I really, really wanted a look at those directions, but when we looked for them, nobody could find them in the piles of tissue paper cluttering the limo.
We pulled up to the karaoke bar right as she finished. It was quarter to one, which gave us about an hour before last call. Because the marriage would be doomed if she didn’t have more shots, Marie had more shots. Then she got up and sang her Def Leppard song and we all joined her for the chorus.
Maggs took over the mike to sing “White Wedding,” and then Marie realized the marriage was definitely doomed if she didn’t text Horse a picture of her modeling her new panties, so we all tripped back out to the limo.
That’s when I decided to call it a night—it was my understanding that when the bar closed, they’d all be heading back to the Armory to join up with the guys. The girls didn’t want me to leave, but seeing Ruger wasn’t exactly one of my goals for the evening. Ten minutes later the cab pulled up and I gave him my address. I guess I’d had more to drink than I realized, because the next thing I knew, we’d pulled into Elle’s driveway.
“Wake up,” the driver said. “This where I drop you?”
I looked around, trying to clear my head. I wasn’t drunk, but I wasn’t totally sober, either.
“Um, yeah,” I said. “Just pull around the house, okay?”
He did, and I fumbled in my purse for money. I gave it to him and stepped out, digging for the keys. I’d forgotten to turn on the outside light, which didn’t help. Or maybe it was just burned out … I usually left it on all the time.
The driver must’ve been a nice guy, because he waited until I got the front door open before he pulled away. Too bad he hadn’t waited a minute longer—when I flipped on the light I nearly had a heart attack.
Zach sat in the center of the couch.
“About time you got back,” he said pleasantly, arms crossed over his chest. “Let me guess, you’re drunk? Some mother you’ve turned out to be, Sophie. You’re nothing but a f**king slut, you know that?”
Seeing him hit me like a physical blow.
I mean that—if someone had punched me in the stomach, it couldn’t have hurt worse. I couldn’t breathe, and I had to grab the wall to stay upright. That’s the thing that nobody tells you as a girl, when they warn you about guys like Zach. You hear about women getting “abused,” but that’s such a sterile word for what Zach did to me. He didn’t “abuse” me. He hurt me, owned me, trained me …
Broke me.
It’s like hitting a dog with a rolled-up newspaper. You do it enough times, the dog will cringe whenever it sees the roll. Obedience becomes instinct, and in that second I felt it all come back to me.
Zach’s bitch. That’s all I was.
“You can’t be here,” I said feebly, wondering how just seeing him could make me feel so weak. “The restraining order says you can’t be here. You’re supposed to be hundreds of miles away. How did you get in?”
“I picked the lock, you stupid cunt,” he replied. “Ruger taught me when we were kids. That and how to hotwire a car. Only f**kin’ thing he ever did for me …”
He stood and walked over to me, a nasty gleam in his eye. He’d gotten bigger, I realized. Not taller, of course, and not fat, either. Zach must’ve started lifting weights, because those were some serious muscles. Steroid-sized muscles. He flexed them as he walked toward me, grinning as he read the fear in my face. He’d always had little-man syndrome.
My brain screamed at me to run, but my body wouldn’t obey. I was strong during the kidnapping. I’d run from Skid, but then I turned around and fought him.
Why didn’t I do that now?
I couldn’t. My body wouldn’t move.
Instead I just watched Zach, terrified, as he came up and cupped my face in his hands, fingers holding me just a little too tight.
“You’re looking good,” he said, licking his lips. He leaned forward and kissed me. Not a nice kiss—no, this one was meant to punish. I locked my jaw and kept my lips closed until he reached up and grabbed my hair, pulling it back sharply. “Open your f**king mouth, bitch.”
I obeyed, because I knew pulling hair was the least of what he could do. He kissed me for an eternity, tongue stabbing into mine painfully. His mouth tasted stale and nasty, like he hadn’t brushed his teeth in a year. I couldn’t get any air and tears built up in my eyes.
Finally, he pulled away.
“Cunt still sweet as that mouth?” he asked. I didn’t respond and he yanked my hair again. “Answer me, bitch!”
“I don’t know,” I whimpered. I should try to knee him. I should fight or kick or bite or something, but seeing Zach made me feel like a helpless little girl. He knew it, too. I could tell by the gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. Zach was a bully. How I hadn’t recognized it from the start I’ll never know, but I could sure as shit see it now.
“I hear you’re f**king Ruger again,” Zach whispered, face turning ugly. “I hear you’re sucking his c**k all over town, and that you’re f**king his whole club, too. Is that true, slut?”
“No,” I whimpered. “No, it’s not true.”
“What’s not true?” he asked, mouth twisting into a smile. “Not true you’re f**king Ruger, or not true that you’re f**king his club? Because they don’t just steal a man’s inheritance for shits and giggles, babe. They don’t do anything for free. You gotta tell me just how big a whore you are. Otherwise I won’t know how much punishment you need.”
“I’m not f**king anyone,” I said. Zach burst out laughing. Seriously laughing, so hard he actually let me go and used the heel of one hand to press against his eyes, wiping away the tears.
“Let’s try this again,” he said when he finally stopped. “Who are you f**king? You belong to me, bitch. If you don’t tell me the truth, I’ll start breaking fingers.”
He reached down and caught my hand between his, gripping my right index finger, bending it sharply backward.
I panicked, wishing I could get myself to think. My mind was numb, old survival instincts taking over.
Get it over with.
Do what he says.
Maybe he’ll show mercy if you’re a good girl …
“I had sex with Ruger,” I said quickly. Then I closed my eyes, bracing for whatever might happen next. There’s no preparing for something like that, though. Not really. I waited for my bone to snap, so it came as a complete surprise when he punched me in the stomach instead. I doubled over, gasping for breath. Holy shit that hurt.
Zach burst out laughing.
“You’re too f**kin’ easy.”
Silly of me, I realized, clutching my stomach and praying he’d stop at just one hit. Zach never did what I expected him to do. You couldn’t plan, couldn’t get ready, nothing like that. He was like a tornado—suddenly there, spewing evil without warning.
Zach’s laughter died.
“Hell of long drive to get here. I’m tired and hungry,” he said. “So you’re gonna make me something to eat. Then we’ll talk some more about who you’re sleeping with. Don’t want to leave out any juicy details, do we?”
I dug through the fridge, trying to figure out what to cook him. My stomach ached, although I didn’t feel like he’d broken any ribs. Yet. We didn’t have a lot of food, but I could fix some eggs and toast. Zach had always loved breakfast for dinner.
“It was f**king stupid of you to come back to Coeur d’Alene,” Zach said conversationally. He sat at the small table between the living room and kitchen, watching me and picking at his fingernails. “You couldn’t just keep your legs shut, could you? I’ll never let him have you. Never. Thought I’d made that clear?”
I didn’t answer. No matter what I said, it would set him off. I remembered that much from before. Zach had always liked lecturing me during punishments, and if I didn’t listen, the punishment got much, much worse. I just had to hunker down and push through. Sooner or later he’d get tired or bored and then it would stop.
At least for a while.
I’d never be truly free from him, though. I’d thought I could change my life.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“I’ve told you a thousand times about Ruger, but you still don’t listen,” he continued. “You never get it through your head, do you? I guess sluts like you can’t control themselves … You need to be trained, like dogs. Bitches. Do you want me to train you?”
I took a deep breath, then let it out, closing my eyes tight. I knew what the next step was. Our little dance was well-choreographed.
“Yes, Zach,” I whispered, feeling my soul tuck down deep inside, hiding from what was coming. If I drew far enough away from reality, it wouldn’t hurt as bad when he started really hitting me. “I want you to train me.”
“Good girl,” he murmured, sounding almost human.
I knelt down and opened the drawer under the oven, looking for something to cook the eggs in. I had a small, non-stick frying pan I usually used. There was also a large, cast-iron skillet that I’d found when I moved into the apartment.
I’d never cooked with it—cast iron always seemed sort of strange and scary to me.
Huh.
Why should I be afraid of using a f**king pan? Because it was different than what I was used to? But changing how you do anything is difficult.
I could do it, though.
I could use that pan.
Almost in a dream, I reached down and picked up the skillet. How hard would it be …? Harder than a man’s fists against your flesh? Harder than cracked ribs, blackened eyes—your baby screaming for an hour because Mommy can’t get off the floor to pick him up?
Changing how you react to a man hurting you is hard.
But it can be done.
The pan was heavy. Really heavy. My arms were strong, though. I’d been carrying Noah for years—this was nothing in comparison. I stood up and set the skillet on the stove, reaching over and turning on the burner.
“I think we need to get something clear,” Zach said. He leaned back in his chair, grinning at me, all pleased with himself. Only seconds had passed as I found the skillet, but everything had changed. I felt my soul uncurling from its hiding place.
“You sent me to jail,” Zach continued. “That was a very, very bad thing to do. I’ll admit it threw me for a while. I let you get away with it. Then you stole my money, and that’s more than a man can take. You try to fight me, I’ll kill you. In fact, I won’t just kill you, I’ll kill Noah. Never did like that little shit.”
Another gut punch. He hadn’t used his fists this time. He didn’t need to.
I looked down at the slowly heating skillet.
“Maybe I’ll just make him disappear,” he muttered. “Just take his little ass and dump him somewhere. You’ll never find him again, always wonder if he’s dead or alive. Maybe if you’re really good, I’ll tell you where the body is for his eighteenth birthday …”
I turned to grab eggs out of the fridge, glancing toward Zach. He was looking down at one of his hands, forming a fist over and over, flexing the muscles in his arm. I set the egg carton on the counter. Then I reached for a bowl to mix them in—he liked them scrambled, a mixture of full eggs and egg whites for extra protein. I started cracking them, the hard white shells looking like little skulls.
They broke open so easily.
I flicked another glance at him. He was still gazing down at his fingers, flexing and fisting.
Getting ready to hit me again.
“I’m gonna f**k you in the ass, I think,” he said casually. “Make you beg for it. I’ve missed that about you, the way you beg.”
My chest tightened, but I didn’t let myself react to his words. I just picked up a towel and wrapped it around the hot pan’s metal handle. Then I took a deep breath and thought of Noah, of what his little face would look like after Zach finished with him. Nope. Not gonna happen.
You can do this, I told myself, and I knew I was right. I could.
I lifted the pan, took three steps toward Zach and raised it high, bringing it down on his head with all my strength.
He never saw it coming.
Then I hit him a second time, just to be sure. And a third.
The smell of scorched meat filled the kitchen.
I smiled.
RUGER
He felt his phone vibrate, and he seriously considered just ignoring it.
It was nearly three thirty in the morning, and the girls had arrived at the Armory an hour ago. He’d never seen Marie so drunk. She wore a little white veil on her head and a white sash that said “Bride” across her chest, and she was carrying around some weird electronic vibrating thing like a trophy. Maggs said it was a sex toy, but damned if Ruger could figure out what it was for.
Horse was drunk, too, although not as bad as Marie. He’d carried his bride-to-be off not long after she arrived. They were upstairs now. That was the last they’d seen of them, although Dancer was trying to convince the girls that they needed to go and rescue Marie. That kept setting them off cackling like a bunch of damned witches.
Ruger pulled out his phone and saw Sophie’s name. Fuck. Now what? He was trying to give her space, but it was f**king hard to pretend everything was fine while he waited. He missed her. The Jacks had taken her away from him for less than a day, but those hours had nearly killed him.
He needed her back. He needed her back now. Wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take.
“Hey, Soph,” he said, stepping out the door into the night air. It was almost October, but it was still warm out. A perfect Indian summer night.
“Ruger,” she said, and her voice sounded strange. “Um, I have a problem.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t think I can tell you over the phone. Would—do you think you could come over? I mean, I know you’re at the party … are you safe to drive, do you think?”
Double f**k. Something was really wrong. Her voice all but screamed it.
“Yeah, I’m good to drive,” he said, and thankfully he was. Hadn’t been in the mood to drink—too many thoughts running through his head. He heard her breath catch. “Should I bring anyone with me?”
“Um, we should probably be discreet,” she said slowly. “I’m in some trouble here, Ruger. I don’t know what to do.”
“Are you hurt?” he asked quickly.
“I don’t think so,” she replied. “That’s not really the worst of it … Ruger, I’ve done something bad. I think you should come over right now. I need you to tell me what to do. I know I keep asking you to stay out of my life, but I was wrong about that. I can’t do this on my own.”
“Okay, babe. I’ll be right there.”
He pulled up to her place twenty minutes later. She sat outside on the little stoop, arms wrapped tight around her knees. She looked impossibly brittle, like she’d explode into a thousand pieces if he touched her. Little red dots spotted her face.
Blood spatter. Fuck.
“What’s up, Soph?” Ruger asked, crouching down. She looked at him with blank eyes. “Did you fall down or something?”
“No,” she said quietly. “Zach punched my stomach and threatened to kill Noah, so I killed him instead.”
Ruger froze.
“Excuse me?” he asked carefully, wondering if he’d hallucinated what she’d just said.
“Zach punched my stomach and threatened to kill Noah, so I killed him,” she repeated, meeting his gaze. “He was mad at me because he’d heard I was sleeping with you. He’s always been crazy jealous, you know that. I don’t know what set him off, but he must’ve been spying on me somehow, because he knew exactly how to find me. He was inside the apartment, waiting, when I got home from the karaoke bar. He kissed me, and then he started asking questions and punched me. He said he was going to kill Noah and I knew he meant it, so I hit him over the head with a cast-iron skillet until he died.”
Ruger swallowed. He didn’t feel sorry for Zach, but this was one hell of a clusterfuck.
“Are you sure he’s dead?”
She nodded slowly.
“I kept hitting him, just to make sure,” she replied, far too calmly. “I checked his pulse. He’s definitely dead. I’m hoping you’ll tell me what to do next. I finally did my own dirty work, Ruger, but I don’t know how to finish it.”
Damn it. He shouldn’t have left her alone. Should’ve come to check on her when she didn’t show up with the rest of the girls … Fuck giving her space.
“Okay,” he said. “Where’s Noah?”
“Spending the night with Elle,” Sophie said. “She’ll get him ready for school in the morning. I’ll pick him up and take him on the way to work.”
Well, that was something.
“I’m going to go inside, check things out,” he said. “That okay with you?”
“Sure,” she murmured. “No problem. I’ll just stay out here, I think?”
“That sounds good,” he told her, reaching out and cupping her cheek. She leaned her head into his touch, eyes starting to water. Then he stood up and stepped past her, opening the door.
Fuck. Double f**k …
Zach was on the floor, his hair matted with blood. A pool of it surrounded him. A horrible stench filled the air, a mixture of burned meat and scorched hair.
The pan lay next to Zach’s corpse, more blood crusting the sides. It’d splattered behind him, too. That would take some serious cleaning. New linoleum for sure, and they might even need to replace the floorboards underneath, he mused.
Ruger checked Zach’s pulse just to be sure, but Sophie was right. His stepbrother was definitely dead. This was a mess, a big mess, and cleaning it up wouldn’t be pretty.
He was proud of her, though.
She’d defended herself when it counted, and ultimately this was Ruger’s fault. He should’ve killed Zach four years ago. Then he should have killed him when he’d collected the child support. Fucking weak of him.
He’d held off because of Noah.
Didn’t want to kill the boy’s father. Didn’t want to do that to his own mother, either. She’d loved Zach, for reasons Ruger had never understood. So he’d given Zach another pass, leaving his woman to finish the job.
Fucking idiot.
Ruger pulled out his phone and dialed Pic.
“It’s Ruger,” he said. “I’m out at Soph’s place. Could use some help here, it’s delicate. Anyone up for it? Probably gonna need a van …”
“How delicate?” Picnic asked. He hadn’t been drinking much, either, thank f**k. Neither of them had quite relaxed since the kidnapping, and that vigilance might save Sophie’s ass now.
“About as delicate as it gets,” Ruger said slowly. “We should talk in person.”
“Gotcha,” Pic replied, hanging up. Ruger went back outside and found Sophie still sitting on the porch. He sat down behind her, wrapping his arms around her body, legs surrounding hers as he pulled her close. She shivered.
“Hey, Soph,” he whispered, nuzzling her neck. She leaned back into him and he realized she was crying softly, tears rolling down her face.
Good. Crying was better than that creepy calm she’d had earlier.
“I’m really sorry, Ruger,” she told him. “I keep calling you in to fix things, always making you do the hard stuff. First Miranda, now this. I should’ve called the cops …”
“No f**king way,” he said. “That’s a mess we don’t need. You might get off on self-defense, you might not. Not after you kept hitting him. He was just sitting when you attacked, right? He wasn’t about to hit you or something?”
“Not really,” Sophie replied. “He was looking at his hands and I was supposed to be cooking eggs.”
“You did what you had to do,” Ruger said, hoping she believed him. “He chose this—he threatened your son, Soph. You had to protect him. That’s what mothers do.”
She nodded her head.
“I know,” she replied. “He said he’d kill all of us and I knew he meant it. The restraining order didn’t do shit. Going to jail only stopped him for a while … What if he hurt Noah next time? I wasn’t willing to take that chance.”
“We’ll clean this up for you,” he replied, resting his cheek on her head. God, he loved how she smelled, although for once his dick had the grace to stay down. “Hopefully nobody knew he was coming here. He’ll just disappear. If the cops ever come looking, we’ll say I did it, okay?”
“You can’t—” she tried to protest, but he cut her off.
“I’m not planning on it,” Ruger said. “Trust me, prison isn’t on my bucket list. We play things right, it won’t be an issue. He wasn’t here, it never happened. But if the shit hits the fan, you’ll do what I tell you, what the club lawyer tells you. Got me?”
“I just feel so bad dragging you into it.”
“We’re a family,” he whispered. “We take care of each other. That’s the way it works, babe. You protected yourself and Noah, now I’ll protect you. My brothers’ll cover my ass, and we’ll all make it through just fine.”
“We are a family, aren’t we?” she whispered.
“Always.”
She nodded her head slowly, and he squeezed her tight. They sat together quietly, waiting for Picnic, listening to the frogs and crickets singing in the background.

[Dinoysus]

CHAPTER XVI

SOPHIE
Ruger, Picnic, and Painter took care of Zach.
They made him disappear, along with the frying pan, my clothes, and every other piece of evidence in the house.
Erasing a human life shouldn’t be so easy.
Ruger had me take a shower, then I crawled into Noah’s bed and tried to sleep. Even if my mind hadn’t been racing, I hurt too bad to get any rest. I’d have a hell of a bruise. At least it wouldn’t show anywhere. The sun was already rising when I heard him come back and turn on the shower. Twenty minutes later he padded into the bedroom and lay down next to me, pulling me into his arms.
I turned and burrowed into him, holding him tight.
“Thank you,” I whispered fiercely, and I meant it. Not just for tonight, but for everything. “Thank you for always being here for me.”
“It’s what I do,” he whispered back. His hand came up and ran through my hair softly, soothing me.
“I was wrong,” I said.
“Hmmm?”
“I was wrong about you,” I continued. “I kept saying I didn’t want anything to do with you, that the club does horrible things. But I’m the one doing horrible things.”
“You survived,” he replied, and his voice didn’t waver. “You protected your son. That’s not horrible.”
“When I called you, you could’ve told me to f**k off,” I replied. “I had no right to drag you into this. Now you’re an accomplice.”
“Babe, it’s over,” he said. “Let it be over. I’ll come by in a couple of days, put some new flooring in the kitchen, throw on some paint. Then it’s done. We don’t need to talk about it, okay? In fact, we shouldn’t talk about it.”
“Okay,” I whispered. “What about us? I feel like this changes things.”
“We don’t need to figure it out right now, Soph,” he said. “Try to sleep. You’ve got to be up in an hour for work. It’s going to be a long, tiring day, and you’ve got to get through it. On the bright side, if anyone asks why you look like shit, you can say you’re hungover. Plenty of witnesses to that, thank f**k.”
“Wish I could call in sick,” I said. “I suppose calling in with a hangover this early into the job isn’t such a good idea, hmm?”
“Probably not,” he said. He kissed the top of my head. “Like I said, we don’t have to figure things out right now, but I’m going to stay with you for a while. I don’t want you alone.”
It didn’t occur to me to argue. I really, really didn’t want to be alone. I’d never believed in ghosts, but I was pretty sure Zach planned to haunt me.
Probably for the rest of my life.
A week later we still hadn’t talked things through.
Ruger moved us back to his house the Saturday after I killed Zach, and this time I didn’t argue with him. He put me back in my old room, and while we spent almost every evening together, he never did more than give me a quick kiss good night.
I appreciated that more than I knew how to say.
Things had changed between us in a profound way, something I think we both knew. All our fighting and nitpicking seemed so silly now. So did my endless agonizing about whether or not I should be with him. Once a man disposes of a body for you, the moral high ground has been lost.
Nothing says “commitment” like accessory to murder.
Sooner or later we’d be together. I just wasn’t ready yet, and surprisingly, Ruger was patient. We both worried that yet another move would upset Noah, but he took it in stride—apparently he’d never considered Elle’s place as anything more than an extended sleepover anyway.
Elle just gave a Cheshire cat smile when I told her we’d be moving.
Apparently life goes on, even after you kill someone.
Marie and Horse had their rehearsal dinner the following Friday night. I wasn’t originally invited to it. No reason I would be, considering I wasn’t in the wedding party or a member of the family. Ruger was Horse’s best man, though, so he had to be there. Apparently in his eyes, and in those of the club, we were officially a couple now, so Noah and I were invited, too.
It felt good to be included.
The wedding itself would be taking place out at the Armory, which seemed odd to me at first. They weren’t getting married in the building or courtyard itself, though. Out beyond the wall was a large meadow where people camped out for club functions. It backed into a grove of old-growth trees, forming a natural canopy that was perfect for a wedding. There were already tents set up along the edges, but the center and back were marked off with neon-orange ribbon that outlined an area for the ceremony.
I offered to watch the kids during the rehearsal, including Dancer’s two boys. We hit the play area inside the courtyard, and they all ran around like wild animals, shrieking and jumping off the swing set. The rehearsal dinner was in the courtyard, too, so I found myself helping the caterer set up while we waited. She was a friend of the club named Candace, and she had a wicked sense of humor.
I also met Marie’s mom, Lacey Benson, and her stepdad, John.
Lacey was … different.
She looked a lot like Marie. In fact, she could’ve been Marie’s sister, at least at first glance. But where Marie’s hair was wild and free, Lacey’s was in one of those styles you just know takes an expensive hair cut, double-processing, and a shitload of product to look so natural and perfect. Marie didn’t usually wear makeup. Lacey’s was flawless, and her clothes never seemed to wrinkle. She was the portrait of a stylish matron, except for the smell of cigarette smoke wafting around her.
She was poised, stunning, and utterly batshit crazy.
The crazy wasn’t subtle, either.
She had a manic energy that couldn’t be contained, and she hovered around Marie like a hummingbird, obviously overjoyed for her daughter. Just watching her was exhausting.
I learned that Candace was more than a nice person—she might possibly be a saint. No matter how many times Lacey made her rearrange everything, she did it with a nod and a gracious smile. This was a step beyond impressive, because Marie’s mother rearranged things seven times.
Then she rearranged an eighth, this time while people were actually serving.
After dinner, Lacey stood up and gave a long and rambling toast, telling us stories I was pretty sure Marie didn’t appreciate. We heard about how she didn’t like to wear clothes when she was a toddler, and was always stripping down in the grocery store. We heard about the time she’d decided to ride the neighbor’s goat … wearing spurs.
We also heard about when Lacey first met Horse, which led to an interesting side-ramble about jail, cops, anger management, her husband, and engagement guns.
Clearly feeling outdone, Horse’s mother got into the spirit and we learned he’d refused to pee inside the house for the first five years of his life, something his father had found hysterically funny and encouraged.
Dancer’s toast put both of them to shame, though. She stood in front of everyone and called Marie up for a special presentation. Then she pulled out the little stuffed horse she’d told us about the first night we’d met, along with a small bedazzled harness and matching leash.
Maggs and Em supplemented it with a tiny, toy-sized Harley for the horse to ride.
Marie laughed so hard she almost choked on her champagne. Horse smiled grimly, wrapping an arm around Dancer’s neck and squeezing her shoulder in an almost-hug. It transitioned to a neck-lock and prolonged noogie. She screamed and cried and kicked, but he didn’t let her go until she admitted she’d made the whole thing up, which none of us believed for a minute.
Noah and I left around nine, just as things were starting to get interesting. Guests had been arriving all day, camping out behind the Armory, and they joined the party once the official dinner events had ended. I was exhausted and my whole body ached, so I was happy to leave. I still had bruises, although thankfully no broken ribs this time. I collapsed into bed alone, wishing Ruger was with me.
The morning of the wedding dawned warm and perfect.
They’d taken a risk, planning an outdoor event in early October. It paid off, because there are few things more beautiful than fall in northern Idaho. The evergreen-covered hills were spotted with bright yellow and orange patches. The air had a sharp feel that made me think of that first burst of flavor when you bite into a honeycrisp apple.
It took all I had to keep Noah inside while I got ready. I knew he’d be filthy by the end of the day, but I wanted to at least start things out with him clean. Ruger hadn’t come home last night. I assumed he’d been partying with Horse all night, and I wondered about what they’d been doing …
There had been tons of people at the party last night, and a lot of them were female. He’d told me after the kidnapping that he didn’t want anyone else but me, that he’d be faithful.
He’d even given me a soft kiss good night when he’d walked us to the car.
But I wasn’t quite sure what our new arrangement was supposed to be, or where the limits stood. We still hadn’t talked about it. We weren’t having sex. Did that mean he’d been sleeping with someone else? Multiple someone elses?
Thinking about it made me feel sick.
I could just ask him. There were things he wouldn’t tell me, but I didn’t think he’d lie. I just wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer.
I pulled up to the Armory about an hour and a half before the ceremony was supposed to start. There were cars everywhere, and bikes, too. The girls had been busy that morning decorating. I saw Painter as I pulled up, and he raised a hand in a friendly wave. I walked around the Armory and let Noah join the pack of children running wild out there, because the courtyard was off bounds. They were busy setting up the reception in there.
Picnic leaned back against the wall, watching the kids with a thoughtful look on his face. Then he saw me and waved me over.
“How you doing?” he asked. I shrugged.
“Pretty good, I guess,” I said. Looking everywhere but his face, I managed to choke out something I’d meant to say the night before. “Thanks for helping me. I mean, last weekend.”
“No worries, never happened,” he said, cocking his head and studying my face. “But I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”
“Sure,” I agreed, because I owed him in a big way.
“Do you know what happened between Em and Hunter?” he asked bluntly. “She’s not herself, and she won’t say shit to me. That’s not normal—she’s always been my girl, the one who’d tell me everything. Not her sister. Now she’s closed off.”
I sighed and looked into his face. His blue eyes held concern, and I saw how much it hurt him to ask.
“I don’t know,” I said. “She was alone with him the first night, and then again for an hour the next day. She never told me what happened, but I don’t think he raped her, if that’s what you’re after. She didn’t seem like a victim. Em was pissed at him—really pissed. That’s about all I can tell you.”
“More’n she’s said so far,” he replied. His mouth tightened. “She’s upstairs with Marie. You might as well go up, too. They’re like a bunch of f**kin’ harpies. I tried to go up and talk to Em earlier and they wouldn’t let me in the room.”
“I need to keep an eye on Noah.”
Picnic glanced toward the pack of kids running through the grass.
“He’s not goin’ anywhere,” he said. “Plenty of adults out here already. You should be with Marie.”
“I don’t even know her that well,” I protested. “I feel kind of strange …”
“Honey, you’re in this club as deep as any of us at this point,” he replied, his voice commanding. “Hard to get much deeper. Might as well have some of the fun, too.”
He smiled and I found myself struck once again at how handsome he was for an old guy.
“Okay, I’ll go see how they’re doing.”
“Have fun,” he told me. “And keep an eye on Em. If you can think of any way for me to help her, let me know.”
“Of course.”
I found Marie up on the third floor in one of the bedrooms.
Maggs had discovered me in the kitchen and recruited me to help her haul up beer. Apparently Marie had decided that marrying Horse completely sober wasn’t the world’s greatest idea. As her girlfriends, we were required to join her, because that’s what friends do.
Let it never be said I’ve abandoned someone in their time of need.
We lugged the beer up the stairs, Maggs telling me that she’d never seen Marie more beautiful … or more stressed out. I heard her yelling before we reached the room, something about being a grown-up and wanting to make her own decisions. I swung the door open and dropped the beer on the floor with a clanking of bottles.
Marie stood in the center of the room, wearing a gorgeous white dress—very classic-looking, with a sweetheart neckline, a narrow waist to show off her figure, and a sweeping gown. Her brown hair was pinned up, cascading down in a riot of curls, and she wore flowers woven through it. No veil.
I guess she’d gotten her fill of white tulle during the limo ride.
“I love you!” she yelled when she saw me, although I wasn’t sure she even noticed who I was. Nope, she zoned in on the beer, grabbing one and popping the top off using her engagement ring as a church key. She chugged almost the entire bottle, then set it down and turned to face her mother defiantly.
“My daughter is not wearing black leather for her wedding,” Lacey proclaimed, waving the offending item in her hand—Marie’s vest with her “Property of Horse” patch.
“Horse wants me to wear it,” Marie snapped. “It’s important to him.”
“It doesn’t go with your dress,” Lacey snapped back. “It’s ridiculous. This is your day—you should look like a princess!”
“If it’s my day, why can’t I decide what I wear?” Marie asked, her voice rising. Lacey’s eyes narrowed.
“Because I’m your mother and I know what you really want!” she yelled. “Fuck, I need a smoke.”
“I don’t want my dress to smell like smoke,” Marie shouted back. “And I want my day to be about me! Give me my f**king property patch!”
“No!” Lacey hissed. She looked around frantically, then spotted a pair of florist’s scissors on the counter. Snatching them up, she held them to the vest menacingly. “Stay back, or the patch gets it!”
We all froze.
“What if you take the patch off the vest and put it on the dress?” I suggested suddenly, inspired by the scissors. “That way you can still wear it, but the vest won’t ruin the lines of the dress for the pictures.”
“You can’t pull off the patch,” Cookie declared. “That’d be like divorcing Horse. But we could make a copy of it and pin that on her.”
Silence fell across the room as Marie and her mother fought a silent battle with their eyes.
Lacey’s nostrils flared.
“I could live with that,” Marie said slowly. We all swiveled toward Lacey. She nodded slowly.
“I’m willing to accept it.”
They glared at each other a moment longer. Lacey held out the vest slowly and Marie snatched it back. Dancer grabbed the vest and took off downstairs, presumably in search of the copier.
“I’m gonna go smoke and do some of my peace affirmations,” Lacey said slowly, spearing us with her eyes, one by one. “When I come back, the patch will be on the dress in such a way that it’s not visible from the front, for the pictures. If I see it from the front, we’ll have a problem and no peace affirmation on Earth will be enough to save your asses. We have an understanding?”
She swept out of the room and Marie growled.
“I need another beer.”
I handed her one quickly, then grabbed one for myself. Holy shit, and I’d thought her mom was crazy last night …
Marie pounded her drink as Dancer reappeared, panting. She held a color copy of the patch up triumphantly.
“Where do you want it?” she asked Marie. “We’ll have to tape it on the dress right before you head down the aisle.”
“I want it on my butt,” Marie said, just as I’d taken a drink. “So my mother has to look at it the whole damned ceremony.”
I couldn’t help myself. I started giggling, which I tried to cover with a cough, forgetting I had a mouth full of beer. I ended up snorting it out my nose, and then everyone lost it. Dancer was actually crying when she finally stopped, and we all took a moment to poke at our eyes with tissues, trying to fix our makeup. Then she turned to Marie.
“I like the idea of it back there,” she said, biting back another laugh. “I know it’ll piss off your mom, and that’s great. But it’ll also send a nice message to Horse …”
Marie’s eyes widened.
“Oh, you’re right,” she whispered. “Let’s do it.”
And that’s how Marie ended up getting married to Horse with a property patch on her ass.
We all walked Marie downstairs, and then Dancer and Em bustled her off to wherever she planned to hide until things got started. I collected Noah and we wandered around back to the meadow, which had been transformed since the night before.
There were twice as many tents now, probably more than a hundred. They’d set up a little wooden pulpit at the front, and chairs had been laid out in neat rows on either side of the aisle, just like any outdoor wedding.
But this wasn’t just any wedding. It was a Reaper wedding, and apparently they liked to add their own twist to the ceremony. All the guys had parked their bikes in two neat, diagonal rows on either side of the center, forming a path of shining chrome for Marie to walk through.
I had to admit, it looked cool.
As Ruger’s … whatever … I had a place reserved for me up front, right next to Maggs, Cookie, and Darcy. We sat for about ten minutes, Noah squirming, while we waited for things to get started. Then the sound system crackled to life and the minister asked everyone to find their seats.
Horse and Ruger stepped out from the trees, coming around front to stand and wait. Both wore black jeans and bright white button-up shirts. They also wore their colors. The minister wore a vest, too, although he wasn’t a Reaper.
“Chaplain from Spokane,” Maggs whispered to me. “He’s done stuff for the club before. Good guy.”
I nodded, then we all turned to watch as Pachelbel’s Canon started wafting through the meadow. The first to come down the aisle was a very little girl I didn’t recognize, carrying a basket of flower petals that she scattered as she walked. Dancer’s two boys followed as ring bearers. Marie’s mom and stepdad were next, and then I heard the roar of a motorcycle across the meadow.
I craned my neck to see Picnic riding slowly toward the group with Marie on the back of his bike. My eyes widened, delighted. Maggs giggled and leaned over.
“We didn’t tell her mom about that part …”
I glanced quickly to the front to see Lacey’s eyes narrowed and suspicious. John wrapped an arm around her shoulders and whispered something in her ear. She glared at him, then shrugged and rolled her eyes. Apparently she knew when she’d been beaten.
Picnic came to a stop at the end of the aisle, where Em and Dancer—as bridesmaids—waited to help Marie off the bike and fix her dress. Then the two women walked down the aisle before her, side by side. We all rose as Picnic held out his arm to Marie, then slowly escorted her toward Horse.
That’s when the people in the back started laughing.
Everyone around us looked confused, and I glanced up to find Horse frowning. He leaned over toward Ruger, murmuring something to him. The waves of laughter kept growing as Marie moved forward, and then I was able to see the patch—“Property of Horse”—proudly displayed on her rear end, as promised.
Picnic stopped at the end, stepping back as Horse came to collect Marie. She whispered something to him, and he looked around behind her to see the patch. His face split in a huge grin and I glanced over to see Lacey biting her lip, trying not to laugh. She winked at Marie, silently acknowledging that her daughter had won, and the ceremony started.
I don’t remember all the details. It went fast. I kept looking up to find Ruger watching me, his face serious. I did note two very interesting facts, though. The first was that Horse’s full name was Marcus Antonius Caesar McDonnell, God help him.
The second was that Marie didn’t promise to obey.
Good girl.
Then the minister pronounced them husband and wife, and Horse swept Marie up into a kiss that I was pretty sure could get a woman pregnant. Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me” burst through the speakers and Horse all but carried her back down the aisle as everyone cheered—and bikers cheer loud.
Ruger walked Dancer back down the aisle, and Em walked by herself.
“They left the second spot for Bolt,” Maggs said to me, her eyes misty. “They always leave a spot for Bolt. They’re waiting for him to come home.”
I glanced over at Cookie, whose face had gone pale.
“Are you all right?” I asked. She gave me a tight smile.
“Excuse me, I need to go check on Silvie,” she said. I must’ve looked blank, because she explained. “The flower girl. She’s my daughter.”
“Oh, she’s beautiful,” I said, but Cookie was already up and moving.
I’d noticed a few things since I started getting to know the Reapers.
They were fiercely loyal to each other. They seemed to talk in code sometimes, and they had their own rules and ways of doing things. They didn’t like cops and they knew how to get rid of bodies. The Reapers didn’t really shine, though, until you’d seen them party.
Give them a marriage to celebrate and a pyramid of kegs?
The place blew up.
Marie’s mom definitely knew how to throw a reception, too. They’d gone with casual, and I entered the courtyard to find it transformed into something that wasn’t quite elegant, but was definitely fun. There were lights everywhere, music blasting, and enough food for two armies.
Best of all? There was child care.
Yup, she’d hired the entire staff of a local day care center to come in and set up a children’s area, complete with games, prizes, face painting, and a genuine f**king pony to ride on. The kids even had their own little buffet where they could put together hot dogs and hamburgers.
Noah lost interest in me immediately.
“Wow, this is amazing,” I said to Maggs as he took off running. “I didn’t realize Marie came from money.”
“Marie comes from a trailer,” Maggs replied, laughing. “But her stepdaddy’s trying to make up for lost time, and he’s loaded. What Lacey wants, Lacey gets. Today she wants a pony.”
“No shit,” I said.
Then Ruger’s arms came around me and he leaned down into me, scenting my hair.
“Hey,” he whispered in my ear. I melted. Maggs rolled her eyes as I turned in his arms.
“Hey,” I whispered back. Then I put my hands on his shoulders and lifted up on my toes to kiss him. We’d been doing this a lot the past week. Soft, sweet, quick kisses that let me show my feelings without things getting too intense.
This time it wasn’t soft and sweet.
I guess watching Horse and Marie had inspired Ruger, because he kissed me fast and hard, just like he used to. Then he pulled away and looked down at me, his face serious.
“We okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, we’re okay,” I said, smiling up at him. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too. One part of you in particular. Let’s get reacquainted.”
I blushed as he took my arm and half walked me, half dragged me across the courtyard. I stumbled, catching his drift but not on board with his timing.
“Where are we going?” I demanded. “We’re going to miss everything!”
“Horse already said the party can wait until he’s f**ked his bride, and he’s a smart man,” Ruger muttered, pausing next to a table to grab a backpack. Then I realized where we were headed.
“No,” I said, jerking and tugging against his hand. “Not the shed. I’m not going back into that shed.”
“No prob,” Ruger replied, changing direction without a pause. Now we headed toward the back of the Armory. I saw Dancer as we passed, and she was laughing and pointing at me.
Some friend.
Then we were in the stairwell, climbing back up to the third floor. Ruger spotted an open door to one of the rooms, and we walked in to find a woman on her knees, giving some man I’d never seen before a blow job.
“Need a blanket,” Ruger said to him, pulling one off the bed. The guy nodded, and then we were back out again before I could burst into embarrassed flames. Ruger took me up one more flight through a door that opened onto the roof. It was wide and open, with big parapets ringing the edges. There was a bit of a slope, but not much. We were essentially out in the open.
“This isn’t much better than the shed,” I said, and Ruger turned to me, raising his brows.
“Are you f**king serious?” he asked. “I find the one place within a mile that we can have privacy and you’re gonna bitch about it? Besides, it’s tradition. Guys take girls up here all the time. Hell, Horse proposed to Marie on a roof.”
I frowned.
“I guess it’s okay,” I said.
“Well that’s a relief,” he muttered, flinging the blanket down flat. Then his hands were tangling in my hair and his mouth covered mine.
I don’t quite remember how I wound up on the bottom. I certainly don’t remember what happened to my panties, although I sort of suspected Ruger stole them. He seemed to have a bit of a panty thing going on.
What I do remember is trying not to scream and failing when his mouth sucked my clit in deep. I also remember when he plunged into me, stretching me open wide and reminding me that I wasn’t just crazy about him because he took good care of Noah.
Holy shit, the man had skills.
We took a break after that first round of reunion sex, relocating into the shade behind the little shed housing the stairwell. Ruger lay back and made a little nest for me in his arm, and I snuggled in close. He’d lost his clothes along the way, and I figured if being totally naked out in the open didn’t bother him, I might as well enjoy the view.
I leaned up on one arm and started kissing his chest.
“That’s nice,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Jesus, I’ve missed touching you.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” I said. The tribal tat on his pec called to me, so I started tracing it with my tongue. I loved how he tasted, just a little salty and all male. I loved how hard his muscles were, too, and deep down inside I had to admit I loved the fact that he’d do anything for me.
Anything.
I dropped lower to find the ring in his nipple, flicking it with my tongue.
“Think it’s time to talk yet?” he asked.
I let the ring go reluctantly.
“Yeah, probably,” I said, looking up at him. “We should probably get us—whatever we’re going to be—figured out.”
“Let’s make it official,” he said. “I want you to be my old lady, pretty sure you know that. You up for that?”
“I think so,” I said slowly. “Were you serious about being faithful? I mean, after you came to get me, when Em and I were with the Devil’s Jacks? Were you serious about not sleeping around? Because that’s still a deal breaker for me.”
“Totally serious,” Ruger replied. He looked me right in the eye. “I haven’t slept with anyone else, babe. Not since I f**ked you in the shed. I’ll admit, I thought about it, but they weren’t you. Just wasn’t feelin’ it.”
I caught my breath.
“Then why did you keep telling me you couldn’t make any promises?” I asked, startled. “I thought you were screwing girls left and right the whole time.”
“Always told you I wouldn’t lie,” he said. “Didn’t want to make a promise I couldn’t keep. But shit, Soph, when I thought I might lose you? It all got real clear, real fast. I don’t give a flying f**k about anyone else, babe. I love you. Think I’ve loved you from the first, when I found you and Zach on my couch. Spent a lot of time trying to talk myself out of it, but it’s not goin’ away.”
I blinked rapidly. He loved me. Ruger loved me. I guess I’d known that for a while now—you don’t take care of someone the way he’d taken care of me and Noah if you don’t love them.
Hearing the words was still nice.
“I love you, too,” I replied, feeling suddenly shy. “I think I have for a long time. You were always there for me.”
“That’s what you do when you’re crazy about someone,” he said, giving me a little grin. “Trust me, I wasn’t helping you move, putting alarms on your windows, all that shit, outta the goodness of my heart, babe. Not running a f**kin’ charity here.”
I gave a little laugh. His gaze was so intense, I couldn’t meet it any longer. I looked at his shoulder instead, and for the first time I really studied the tattoos there. There was a series of round dots, each trailing off a bit, almost like a line of comets.
“What are those?” I asked.
“What?”
“The tattoos on your shoulders. I’ve been trying to figure them out for a while now. They don’t look like anything.”
He lifted, leaning back on his elbows, and gave me a serious look.
“Sit on my hips,” he said. I raised a brow.
“You ready for seconds already?” I asked. “Or trying to dodge the question? Let me guess, you got drunk and now you can’t remember what they are?”
He shook his head slowly.
“Oh, I remember,” he said. “Go ahead, sit on me. Want to show you something.”
I looked at him suspiciously, but threw my leg over his hips. His c**k rested right against my opening and I felt a flush of desire run through me. He wasn’t the only one ready for more.
“Now put your hands on my shoulders,” he said.
“What?”
“Put your hands on my shoulders.”
I did. Then it hit me.
“Holy shit, you’re such a pig!” I said, stunned. “What kind of ass**le has fingerprints on his shoulders? God, are the women you screw so stupid they need a guide so they don’t fall off?”
His eyes widened, and then he started laughing. I ripped my hands away, glaring at him. I tried to get off, but he sat up and held my waist tight. Then he stopped laughing and smiled at me.
“First, some of them probably were that stupid,” he admitted. “But those are your fingerprints, babe.”
I looked at him blankly.
“You probably wouldn’t remember, but that night you had Noah?” he said. “You hunkered down on the side of the road and held my shoulders while you pushed him out.”
I realized what Ruger was saying, and I reached up, laying my fingers on the tattoos again. They fit perfectly.
“I don’t even know how to explain that night to you,” he said. “It was so intense, Soph. I had no idea what we were doing. I’ve never watched anything like it, never felt anything even close. You worked so hard to bring him to life. All I could do was hold you, hoping I didn’t f**k something up. You squeezed my shoulders so hard they hurt for days. You dug in your nails, you left bruises, the works. Christ, you were strong.”
I thought back to that night, remembering how I’d crouched on the side of the road. The pain. The fear.
The joy of holding Noah for the first time.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
He snorted at me and grinned.
“You didn’t hurt me, babe,” he said. “You marked me. Big difference. That night was the most important thing that’s ever happened in my life. Holding you, catching Noah—it changed me forever. I didn’t want to forget. So when the bruises started to fade, I went and got them inked, so I couldn’t.”
“Damn,” I said, touching the spots lightly with my fingertips. “I think that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”
I felt him harden under me, and he smirked.
“Sweet enough to get me laid again?” he asked. “Because I’ve told the story to women before, and it works every f**kin’ time. Can’t get their pants off fast enough after that. Hate to think you’re the one girl who can hold out, considering it’s about you.”
I started laughing, and then he rolled me over, pinning my hands over my head. My laughter faded as his c**k found my opening.
“Love you, babe,” he said, sliding slowly into me. “Promise. I’ll always be here for you.”
“I know,” I whispered back to him. “You always have been. I love you, too, Ruger. And I swear, you tell that story to any more girls, I’ll cut that ink right off you.”
“Noted,” he said with a grin.
I reached up and kissed him as he hit bottom, slowly working in and out of me, grazing my clit with every stroke. I lifted my legs to wrap them around his waist, closing my eyes against the sun and letting the sensation of his thick c**k spreading me soak through my entire being.
I loved this man.
I loved how he held me, loved how he cared for my son, and loved how he always fixed whatever f**ked up, horrible things went wrong in my life.
As he rocked into me gently, I could hear the guests partying down in the courtyard, music drifting upward as people shouted and cheered and made the most of what had to be one of the last warm days of the year. Maggs was down there, and Em and Picnic and Dancer and Bam Bam … It wasn’t just Ruger, I realized. All of them had helped me, even when I’d judged them for being Reapers.
But the Reapers were part of Ruger, and Ruger was part of me.
He hit particularly deep, and I started laughing.
“What the f**k?” he grunted without pausing.
“You’re a part of me,” I said, giggling.
He paused, raising a brow. Then he rotated his hips slowly and deliberately, making me gasp.
“Damned straight,” he said, smirking. I grabbed his butt, urging him to start moving again, and he didn’t complain. Within seconds I’d forgotten about the party below and focused on the sensations building inside. He moved faster, plunging into me, scooting my butt across the blanket with the force of his thrusts.
“Shit, I’m close,” I muttered.
Ruger grunted, then pulled out of me abruptly, rolling to his back and gasping for air.
“What the f**k?” I demanded.
“Want to give you something,” he said, his voice tight. I sat up and glared at him.
“No. You have the world’s shittiest timing.”
He laughed, although there was definitely a note of strain in the sound. He shook his head, sitting up and leaning over to dig through the backpack he’d brought up with us. Then he pulled it out. A black leather vest.
A vest that said “Property of Ruger.”
My mouth dropped open, and I took a deep breath.
“Ruger—”
“Listen to me first,” he said, eyes intent on my face. “You’re not from my world, so you don’t know exactly what wearing a vest like this means.”
“Okay …” I said slowly, although I couldn’t imagine anything he’d say that would make me comfortable with it.
“You look at this and see the word ‘property,’” he said. “But what it really means is you’re my woman, and I want everyone to know it. I live in a harsh world, babe. A world where bad shit happens, you’ve seen that for yourself. But no matter what goes down, my brothers have my back. This vest means you’re one of us. Those aren’t just words, Sophie. We’re a tribe, and every Reaper in the club—men you don’t even know—would die to protect a woman wearing this vest. They’d do it because they’re my brothers, and because it means more than any ring ever could in our world.”
“I don’t understand …” I murmured, trying to wrap my head around his words.
“When a man takes a woman as his property, it’s not about owning her,” he continued, eyes searching my face. “It’s about trusting her. This is my life I’m handing you, Sophie. Not just my life—my brothers’ lives, too. It means I’m responsible for everything you do. You f**k up, I’ll pay. You need help, we’re there. You’re the only woman I’ve ever met that I’d consider giving that kind of power to. Hell, I’m not just considering it, I’m desperate for you to take it. I want you to wear my patch, Soph. Will you?”
I sighed, then reached for the leather. It was warm from the sun, and I ran my fingers along it, feeling the strength of the stitching. It had been made to last, no question. I’d be able to wear it for years. Maybe even a lifetime.
I looked at Ruger, with his strong hands that had caught my son at birth, and his smile that left me breathless. I knew my answer. No need to make it too easy for him, though …
“Can I ask one thing?”
“Of course,” he said, and I thought I heard a hint of anxiety in his voice.
“Was it really necessary to stop right in the middle of sex to have this conversation? I was almost to the good part.”
He laughed, then shook his head.
“I made myself a promise,” he said, looking almost sheepish.
“And that was?”
“I promised myself the next time I f**ked you, you’d be wearing my patch. I got distracted, though. You got really nice tits, babe.”
“You already screwed me once up here,” I said, trying to keep a straight face. “Why didn’t you just finish up?”
“Because I’m a dumbass,” he said, shrugging. “I don’t know. I realized you’d be exploding around me soon, squeezing my c**k like the world was gonna end, and I wanted you to wear my patch when you did it. Just sort of came to me.”
I held it up, considering it thoughtfully. Might as well torture him a bit, seeing as he’d left me hanging.
“Looks like a nice vest,” I said slowly. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“Yeah, Sophie, I’m f**kin’ sure,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “So what’s it gonna be? Either you wear it and put us both out of our misery, or we both go home in pain and horny as hell. Because I’m serious. No patch, no dick.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously,” I replied. “Don’t look so surprised. You got a really nice dick, babe.”
I put on the vest, savoring the look in his eyes as he watched. It chafed my ni**les a little, and I bit back a laugh. Maybe Marie could give me some pointers on dealing with that … Then he pulled me up and over his body, lifting me just enough to slide the pierced dick in question deep inside. I braced my arms on his chest and leaned down, rocking slowly as I studied his face.
“So what do you think?” I whispered.
“Like how it looks on you, Soph,” he said, smiling up at me. “Great view. Of course, wouldn’t mind seeing it from the back. You up for some reverse cowgirl action?”
“First get the job done like this,” I muttered. “Then we’ll talk about getting creative.”
Ruger smiled and reached down between us, finding my clit with his fingers.
“That a promise?” he asked.
“Hell yeah.”

[Dinoysus]

Epilogue

FIVE YEARS LATER
RUGER
“I’m gonna stick it in now.”
Sophie’s voice was soft and smooth, with just a hint of laughter.
Ruger smelled her special scent and felt a shot to his groin, the same as every time he’d seen her since that first night in his apartment. She was so beautiful he could die, and he still couldn’t believe she was truly his.
But why the f**k she thought this was a good idea he couldn’t fathom. She was moving too fast. They weren’t ready, he needed her to slow down, to really think about how this would change things between them. Being part of the club had opened her eyes, but there should be limits, too.
He scowled, catching her hand and stopping her mid-motion.
“Why can’t you just stay with me? It’s always worked between us. I don’t get why I’m not enough for you.”
Sophie rolled her eyes.
“Christ, Ruger, tone back the caveman for once,” she muttered. “You know I’ve wanted to try it for a while now, and it’s not like it’s my first time. It’s not going to change anything between you and me, babe. But I need this. You want me to be happy, you always say you want me to be happy. Sometimes that means giving up a little, taking the next step. Let me be in charge for once.”
Ruger closed his eyes for a second, taking in a deep breath. Then he opened them again and gazed at the woman he loved more than anything. She grinned at him, and holy crap, he loved that grin.
“Sorry, babe,” he said, leaning forward to give her a quick peck on those soft, perfect lips of hers. He had to trust her. Ruger forced himself to pull away, taking two steps back, gravel crunching under his heels.
“Ready?” she asked. He nodded tightly.
“Okay, then I’m gonna stick it in. Promise you won’t panic?”
Ruger rolled his eyes.
“I wouldn’t panic. I’m not a f**kin’ baby, Soph. Jesus.”
She didn’t reply, but her eyes said it all, and Ruger felt a smile creep across his face.
“All right,” he admitted, holding his hands up in surrender. “You win. I’m a big whiny baby and I just can’t handle the thought of you doing anything fun without me. I never want you to have fun, I just want you barefoot and pregnant in the kitch—”
“Oh, shut up,” she said, laughing. “Now I’m really doing it, and you’re just going to have to deal with it. Stand back. I wouldn’t want my big, bad biker man getting hit by gravel or something.”
With that she slid the key into the ignition, and the red-and-black Harley softail roared to life. The look on her face was pure delight, and Ruger had to admit that the sight of her on the bike was f**king hot. He couldn’t decide if he wanted her wearing more leather for protection on the road or less, because damn, she looked good when—
He cut off that thought. He needed to focus on his woman’s safety, not her boobs.
“Be careful!” he yelled. Sophie laughed as she rolled down the driveway, then gave a shriek of delight when she hit the road and tore off.
Goddamnit.
“I’m gonna f**kin’ kill Horse,” Ruger muttered. He hated this. Hated it. “Kill him and that f**kin’ bitch of his … always full of great ideas. She doesn’t need her own goddamn bike.”
“You shouldn’t talk like that around Faith,” Noah said, standing next to him. “She starts dropping F-bombs at preschool, Mom’ll shit bricks.”
The kid was twelve going on thirty, and in the past year he’d started shooting up into lanky adolescence. He was already getting phone calls from girls, which gave Sophie fits. Ruger was just happy Noah took after his mom in both looks and brains. Faith sat perched on Noah’s shoulders, watching Ruger with big eyes, same as her mother’s. She gave him a heart-wrenchingly beautiful smile, then opened her mouth and spoke solemnly.
“Fuckin’ kiw Howse,” she said.
Ruger sighed, then reached for his daughter, who climbed up him like a little spider monkey. He stuck his nose into her neck, smelling her sweet, not-quite-still-a-baby scent.
“You can’t win this one,” Noah said. “You know sooner or later Faith’s gonna say something where Mom can hear.”
“I’ll just say she’s copying you,” Ruger said, narrowing his eyes. Noah laughed.
“You taught me in the first place.”
“You’re a little shit sometimes.”
“Yeah, but I’m a little shit who’s willing to throw you a lifeline,” Noah replied thoughtfully. “If she says it in front of Mom, I’ll say it’s my fault if you pay me.”
“How much?”
“Twenty bucks a pop.”
“You got a deal.”
SOPHIE
The bike roared under me and the wind danced across my face.
I loved it. I’d been practicing for a while, mostly out at Marie’s place. She’d gotten her own bike a year ago. I’d never get tired of riding behind Ruger, but I loved being on my own, too. In fact, I’d spent six months trying to convince Ruger I should get my own ride.
Stupid man was positive I’d kill myself.
Problem was, deep down inside, Ruger was sexist as shit. Actually, it wasn’t that deep—he’d always been pretty up front about it. But when he’d decided it was time for Noah to start learning on a little dirt bike, I’d had enough.
It was okay for my twelve-year-old son to ride, but not me?
Bullshit.
So earlier that week I’d announced I was buying a bike, and that he could either help me pick one out or live with what I got on my own. That lit a fire under his ass, and earlier today a friend of his delivered my pretty little Harley. Ruger didn’t like it, but at least he knew it was a decent bike in good condition.
Still, I paid for it with my own money. I wanted it to be my bike. Not that we really had “mine” or “his” after we got married, but he insisted that I keep part of my paycheck in a separate account. I’d never said anything about it, but somehow Ruger knew—instinctively—that I needed to feel like I could take care of myself.
Having my own money helped with that.
I planned to use most of it for school for the kids, but every once in a while I treated us to something special. I’d taken him to Hawaii for our second anniversary, which had been a good investment, because I’d come home with Faith as a souvenir. I’d wondered if having a baby in the house would distance Ruger and Noah, but if anything they’d gotten closer. Every day Noah turned into more of a young man, and Ruger was a big part of that.
After a few minutes, I reached the end of the road and considered whether or not to turn back. I hadn’t really put the bike through her paces—and she was definitely a she, I felt like we were sisters already—but I knew this was killing Ruger.
I smiled, feeling just a little evil.
Part of me wanted to just take off, feel the freedom and let him dangle for a while. It’d piss him off, but seriously … angry sex with my man was pretty damned good. I toyed with the idea, but turned the bike around and headed back toward the house instead.
Baby steps.
No need to scare him too much in one day, after all.
Best to save something for tomorrow, just in case he got out of line.