Reaper's Legacy (Reapers MC, #2)(104)

“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.





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.