Reaper's Legacy (Reapers MC, #2)(21)

He fell silent. I thought about the two men I’d met earlier, Hunter and Skid.

“What happened to the men who did it?” I asked hesitantly. “Were they … were those guys you were talking to …?”

“It was four hangarounds and two Jacks,” he told me. “Good news is, they won’t be hurtin’ any more girls. Hunter and Skid weren’t part of that particular mess, which still doesn’t qualify them as decent human beings. So let me ask you again—you got me, Soph?”

“Yeah,” I whispered, feeling sick.

Silence fell. Noah started laughing at his video in the backseat. Ruger drove, jaw muscle tight, staring straight ahead. Gracie’s story played over and over in my head, along with what he’d said earlier.

“I’m not a stuck-up bitch.”

“Coulda fooled me.”

“I have a right to keep my son away from your club.”

“That why you left Coeur d’Alene?”

“You know damned well why I left Coeur d’Alene,” I said, hating him. “And that’s the second time you’ve called me a bitch. Don’t do it again.”

“Or what?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, frustrated. I crossed my arms. The motion pushed my breasts up high. His eyes caught on them in the rearview mirror and I dropped my arms, tugging up my tank.

What a stupid game I’d been playing that morning.

Ruger wasn’t a boy I could tease by dressing like a slut. I didn’t want his attention, or to get more involved in his world.

I’d never be more than a toy to him, and the men in his family had a history of breaking their toys.

They just did it in different ways.

Ruger didn’t actually live in Coeur d’Alene. He lived west of town in Post Falls, back in the hills near the Washington border at the end of a private gravel road. We pulled up to his place around five that evening, Horse behind us. The driveway widened into a large parking area behind an L-shaped, two-story cedar house overlooking a small valley. The setting was fantastic. Evergreens surrounded us, and I heard the trickle of a stream somewhere not too far away. A strip of grass ran down the hillside around to the front. It looked like it needed water, and given the yard’s condition, I got the impression Ruger liked his landscaping natural.

Noah bounded out of the car, running around the house in excitement. I stretched up high as I stood, pulling the tank up with me, exposing my stomach. I felt Ruger’s eyes touch me, cool and speculative, and I quickly pulled it back down.

Really, really stupid idea, that tank.

What the hell had I been thinking? You don’t pull a tiger’s tail. I’d spent years wishing Ruger would notice me, just once. Now I needed him to unnotice me and start treating me like furniture again. Life as furniture might not be exciting, but it was definitely safe.

“Your car needs a tune-up,” Horse said, walking over to us. He tossed me the keys and I caught them, chest jiggling precariously. Horse eyed me, then smirked at Ruger, who watched us with something like disgust. “I’ll help haul your shit in, then I’ll head home to Marie. She’s startin’ school day after tomorrow. Want to enjoy some time with her before she gets all stressed out and bitchy.”

Ruger walked to the door, which sat kitty-corner from the three-car garage forming one side of the “L.” A narrow band of deck followed the line of the house around to the front. He punched in a code, opened the door, and we went inside. There he put in another code, because apparently one wasn’t enough for Mr. Security-Is-Critically-Important.

I walked in and my mouth dropped open.

I fell in love with the house instantly.

Before me was a great room with a giant, prow-shaped bank of windows looking out across the valley. The place wasn’t huge, but it was definitely big enough to impress me. To the right was a door that had to lead into the garage. To the left was an open-plan kitchen with a breakfast bar. A separate dining area held a table. Dishes littered the counter, and a smattering of empty beer bottles stood on the bar, which separated the kitchen from the main room. A stone fireplace lined one wall in the living room, and a sweeping staircase snaked upward along the other.

Forgetting all about the men, I walked slowly forward to take in the view. Directly in front of the house was a broad meadow, ringed by evergreens lower on the slope. The valley lay beyond that, stunning and sweeping. Here and there I saw other houses, a mix of high-end, new construction and original farms. I looked up to see that the ceiling vaulted all the way to the second story. Behind me was a loft. A pile of dirty laundry had been shoved against the open railing, and I couldn’t help but smile.

Ruger had never been much of a housekeeper.

The living room needed attention, too. The leather couches seemed to be relatively new, as did the rest of the furniture, but for all the care he took to keep things clean it could’ve been a frat house. There was even an empty pizza box on the coffee table.

I heard a beer top pop and turned to find the men standing in the kitchen.

“Your house is almost as disgusting as the Armory,” Horse said to Ruger.

“Like yours used to be?” Ruger asked.

“I don’t remember that,” Horse replied, his expression innocent.

“Just be glad you have Marie around. Otherwise you’d be livin’ this way, too.”