CHAPTER TEN
RUGER
He slid his cock into Sophie’s sweet p-ssy as slowly as possible, savoring every inch. She was f*ckin’ 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*cked up by not keeping a closer eye on her and Zach, and f*cked 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*ck that.
He was a jealous a*shole, and the thought of some other man’s cock in her juicy little cunt … Picnic was right—he needed to claim her or let her go, and that sure as f*ck 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*ck, 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*ck.
Sophie stared at him with wide eyes, panting so hard her tits practically danced. It was f*cking 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 * was fine, but he f*ckin’ 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. F*cking 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*ck had he been thinking, missing out on this? “Blow around me, show me what that sweet p-ssy 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*cking her—although f*cking 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 cock 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 p-ssy 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*cking 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 nipples.
Yup, he was a pretty sick f*ck, 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*ckin’ 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.
“F*ck 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 cock 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*cking. 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*ckin’ 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*ckin’ 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*cking 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*ck 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*cking 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*ckin’ 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*ckin’ 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*ck 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.”
F*cking a*shole.
“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*ck 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*ck 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*cked.
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 rapist? 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*cking 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*cking rapist, 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. F*cking 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*cking 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*cked, 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*cking 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. “F*ck 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*cking 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*cking 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*ck 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*ckin’ 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*ck’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*ckin’ 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*ck 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. “A*shole just won a bet for me. Too f*ckin’ 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*ckin’ 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*ckin’ 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*ckin’ 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, cock 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*ck 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.
“F*cking 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.