Reaper's Legacy (Reapers MC, #2)(50)

“We gonna have a problem here?” Shade asked Deke bluntly.

“They keep out of our way, we won’t have a problem,” Deke said after a pause. “Right or wrong, we’re Reapers. We stand together.”

“Gonna hold you to that, brother,” Shade replied.

“The girls have been workin’ hard, putting together food for us,” Picnic said, rising to address the room. “Pig won’t be ready for another hour, but the kegs are tapped. Thanks to everyone for comin’ up here. We always appreciate the company. Reapers forever, forever Reapers!”

“Reapers forever, forever Reapers!” echoed through the room, rattling the windows. Toke didn’t look happy, but Ruger knew he’d do his part. Men stood to talk, some heading downstairs to the party, others standing in clumps.

“A word?” Picnic asked Ruger before he could escape. He stopped, turning to his president.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Em’s pretty hungover this morning,” Pic said, eyes speculative. “How about your girl?”

“Not my girl,” Ruger grunted. “And no idea—didn’t go home last night.”

“Really?” Pic asked, raising a brow. “That ’cause you had business here or ’cause things are f*cked up at the house? Em seems to think they’re f*cked up. That gonna be a problem for the club?”

“Em sure talks a lot,” Ruger said, narrowing his eyes.

“Em still hasn’t figured out she can’t fool her daddy when she’s drunk,” Picnic said. “It’s useful to me. She seems to think you’re claiming this girl for your property. Says you told her she can’t talk to any other guys. What’s the story?”

“Not sure that’s any of your business,” Ruger replied, his tension growing. “Sophie knows the situation and so do I. That’s enough.”

“That’s great, so long as we don’t have any misunderstandings,” Picnic said. “If she’s yours, fine. She’s not? Lot of guys here today, guys who aren’t usually around. You can’t explain the situation to me, how do you plan on explainin’ it to them?”

“Won’t be a problem,” Ruger replied, his voice firm. “Made things clear to her and she knows what she needs to do.”

Picnic eyed him thoughtfully.

“Send her home,” he said. “Bring her around for a family party, start small. See how it goes. This is throwing her into the deep end and that’s gonna backfire on you.”

“Scare her off, you mean?” Ruger asked. “That might be best. I don’t know what the hell I want with her—”

“You want to f*ck her,” Picnic said bluntly. “You can tell when your dick gets hard, did you know that? Probably tough for you to understand, seeing as most of the time you’re just jacking off, but most men like to stick their cocks—”

“Shut the f*ck up,” Ruger said, wondering whether it’d be a bad move to punch out his president in front of so many witnesses. Probably. Might be worth it.

Picnic laughed.

“So you gonna send her home?” he asked. Ruger shook his head.

“I send her home, she wins,” he said. Picnic raised a brow.

“What is this, junior high? You’re the man, lay it out for her.”

Ruger took a deep breath, forcing himself to think instead of just lashing out. He needed a good fight or something, some way to blow off the tension. There’d be boxing later. That would do it … hopefully.

“I lay it out, she wins,” he admitted finally, scowling and running a hand through his hair. “That’s the problem. She called me on my bullshit and I can’t talk my way out of it. I make her leave, it’s like I’m saying she was right about the club being dangerous and a bad influence for Noah. Not to mention making me look like a f*ckin’ * in the process, because I can’t handle having her around.”

“One, you’re a dumbass,” Picnic said. “Two, she’s right. Club is dangerous for an unclaimed woman, particularly tonight.”

“I get that,” Ruger said. “That’s why I’m gonna protect her. You got a cure for the dumbass thing? That part’s kickin’ my butt, gotta admit.”

“Nope,” Pic said, clapping a hand to Ruger’s shoulder. “But I know something that’ll make you feel better about the situation.”

“What’s that?”

“Pulled pork sandwich,” Pic replied. “Beer. Then—if you’re smart, which I’ll admit is a stretch—you’ll take your girl somewhere and f*ck her ’til she can’t walk straight. She may win, but who gives a damn, ’cause she’ll be suckin’ your cock for the foreseeable future. I find that works wonders.”

“You’re a f*ckin’ *.”

“I get that a lot.”

SOPHIE

I wasn’t horribly hungover the next day, but I wasn’t eager to start drinking again, either. This was probably just as well. Despite my alcohol-fueled tough talk, I really didn’t want to make trouble at the party. I Googled the address, then drove out to the Armory early that evening, after I dropped off Noah with Kimber. She’d ended up spending the night on my couch, waking up more than a little worse for the wear.