Reaper's Stand (Reapers MC, #4)(57)

When they asked for specifics, I couldn’t tell them anything. All my records burned up in the fire. They’d see plenty if they pulled my credit report, though. Maybe I could use the insurance settlement to pay off my debts? Tempting . . .

That’s when I realized having a lawyer in the room might not be such a bad idea after all.

It’s all about motive, right?

? ? ?

Meeting with the insurance agent was easier. I’d never really paid attention to my coverage, but he’d been my mother’s agent for years and he’d known what he was doing when he set everything up. Not only did I have fantastic coverage to rebuild the house, but I had coverage for living expenses for the duration.

I could move out of Reese’s place any time I wanted.

The idea was less appealing than it should’ve been. I mentioned looking for an apartment and he shut me down, so I figured that was an argument I’d tackle tomorrow. The thought of one more night in his bed wasn’t exactly unappealing under normal circumstances—as things stood, I was more than happy to stay put for a couple of days.

? ? ?

Thursday night Reese took me and Melanie out to dinner, with the ever-present Painter tagging along for good measure. I glared at him every time he talked to Mellie, which seemed to give him perverse pleasure, and when I complained about him to Reese after we locked ourselves in the bedroom, he rolled me over and shut me up with his mouth.

It was an impressive argument in favor of silence, all things considered.

In the midst of all this, they called on Friday to let us know my van was ready. I drove the loaner over to the shop, where I was handed my keys by a gruff, overweight man who ignored me when I asked about a bill. He wouldn’t even tell me what’d been wrong with the vehicle, which seemed a bit excessive. I would’ve been pissed if I weren’t so thankful that it was up and running without me having to blow my savings completely. Sure, I had insurance money coming. Theoretically. But I’d need that to rebuild, and those medical bills were always waiting for me.

Now it was Friday evening, and I was about to experience my first real biker party out at the Armory. I wasn’t sure how I felt about this—before all the drama with the house, I’d promised Reese that he could have Friday night and I wanted to keep my word. On the other hand, I’d watched my house blow up and I didn’t have anything to wear.

Reese laughed at me and suggested I go naked.

I went shopping instead, both for clothing and for several large containers of baked beans and fruit salad, because exploding house or not, I’d be damned if I’d show up to a potluck empty-handed. The gravel parking lot outside the Armory was about half full when I pulled in, with the same two young prospects I’d met on my first trip out there directing traffic.

Did those poor guys ever get a break?

This time they didn’t question me as I walked toward the building, just waved me through a side gate in the wall. I followed a narrow passage between the wall and the looming mass of the fortress itself, leading to a large courtyard in the back. It was a mixture of pavement, open grass, and outbuildings that had to cover a good acre or two.

It felt like being inside a castle courtyard, but instead of knights and ladies there were big, scary guys with beards and more cleavage than I’d ever seen outside a girls’ locker room. People bustled around everywhere and they all seemed to know each other or have a job to do. Feeling awkward, I glanced around for Reese. Maybe coming out here had been a mistake. Then a tall, curvy woman in tight jeans came up to me, smiling broadly. She looked about my age and very friendly.

“Hey, I’m Darcy,” she said, reaching out to take the container of beans from me. “I’m Boonie’s old lady. He’s president of the Silver Bastards. I don’t think we’ve met before?”

“London Armstrong,” I said, putting on my game face. “I’m friends with Reese Hayes.”

“Picnic?” she asked, looking startled. “Um, don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t look like his usual type. Are you . . . together?”

A heavy arm came down around my shoulders, startling me so much I squeaked. I looked up to find Painter grinning at Darcy, a hint of the devil in his pale blue eyes. His white-blond hair was newly spiked and he wasn’t wearing a shirt under his leather cut. Made me feel kind of pervy to notice, but between the muscles and the tattoos he was actually very attractive. He smelled good, too.

Oh, I definitely needed to keep his handsome ass away from Melanie . . . Boys like this one were dangerous, and not just because of the whole prison thing.

“London’s playing house with Pic,” he said blandly. Darcy’s eyes opened wide.

“You don’t say?”

Painter nodded.

“Yup, they’re shacked up,” he said. “Expectin’ him to get down on one knee and propose soon. It’s all so beautiful we could just cry.”

Her mouth dropped and he burst out laughing.

“Fuckin’ priceless,” he said, shaking his head and dropping his arm. “She’s his newest piece of ass. Seems to be sticking more than the usual, but we all know how he is. She doesn’t like me much for some reason, do you, babe?”

I glared at him, trying to decide whether kicking him in the nuts on Reaper property was a bad idea.

Probably.

“Reese and I are dating,” I said to Darcy, pulling my dignity around me like a queen. “I had a problem with my house, and he graciously offered to let me stay as his guest until I get things worked out. Anything else is baseless speculation.”