Reaper's Legacy(74)

“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.”