CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
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*ck 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*ck.”
“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*ckin’ 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. “F*ck, 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*cking 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*cking 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*cked 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*cking 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 * 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*cked 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*ck 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*ckin’ 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 cock 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 a*shole 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*ck 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*ckin’ 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 cock 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 * 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 cock 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*cked 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*ck?” 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*ck?” 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*ck 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*cked 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 cock 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*ckin’ 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 nipples 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 * with his fingers.
“That a promise?” he asked.
“Hell yeah.”