by Joanna Wylde
Still alive. The beat was faint but steady.
“He’s not dead,” he said. “What’s the plan?”
Picnic rolled Skid with a foot. Now they saw the wound—he had a gaping gash on the back of his head.
“He’s been bleeding, but not too bad,” Em said. “Don’t know if he’s passed out from a head injury or from shock. Sophie kicked his nuts to hell and back.”
Ruger felt an instinctive shrinking in his own nether region and glanced up at Sophie. She gazed down at them, her face as smooth as a sphinx’s.
Perfectly calm. Way too calm. Shock, Ruger figured.
Picnic stepped up to his daughter and held out his hand for the gun. She gave it to him, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close.
Ruger looked to Sophie again and she turned away. Then he heard the crunch of footsteps in the driveway behind him.
“How we gonna play this?” Bam Bam asked, eyeing Skid. Ruger glanced over at his president, wondering the same thing. Would they put the bastard in the ground or not?
“Not in front of the girls,” Picnic said, squeezing Em tight. “Ruger, you and Painter take them, get them safe. Call the medic. He can meet you at the clubhouse. We’ll clean up here.”
Em shook her head, growing tense.
“Don’t kill him,” she said. “You do that, there’s going to be even more fighting.”
“This is about the club, Em,” Picnic replied softly. She glanced down at Skid, then leaned up on her toes, whispering in her father’s ear.
Picnic stiffened.
Em pulled away, eyes clearly pleading.
He shook his head at her and she crossed her arms, taking a step back. Interesting. Picnic narrowed his eyes, and the two stared at each other for long seconds. Then Picnic sighed.
“Okay, we’ll take him with us and dump him somewhere he’ll be found,” he said. “See if you can find something to bandage him up with, Bam.”
Ruger looked down at Skid. Intellectually, he knew letting him live was probably a good idea. All other issues aside, Em and Sophie didn’t need that kind of baggage.
He still wanted the fucker dead, though.
They could always take him out later. If they did it right, the girls would never know.
SOPHIE
I didn’t know how to feel as I rode home with Ruger, exhausted and drained from the adrenaline. We’d separated from the rest of the club, which broke into different groups going different places. He’d wanted me to get checked out by a friend of the club who was an EMT, but I insisted I was fine.
Which I was. Physically.
But now that it was over, I was so furious with Ruger that I wanted to scream and hit and kick his big, dumb ass for getting me into this shit. I also wanted him to hold me and make me feel safe again, which was ridiculous.
I’d never be safe around him.
More than anything, though, I wanted to get back to Noah. I wanted to hold him tight and make sure we never, ever had to worry about something like this happening again. Different plans kept running through my head, including changing my name and moving to a different state entirely. But I had a good job now, one that might actually let us get ahead.
I just needed a wall between me and Ruger. I’d draw the line—him on his side and me on mine, with no crossover. If I did that, we’d be fine.
But even angry with him, it felt right and safe to lean against his back as we drove, arms wrapped tight around his stomach. Every inch of Ruger was strong and solid. The leather of his cut lay under my cheek, broken by the embroidered fabric of his Reapers patches. His stomach was made of hard muscle that rippled under my fingers every time he leaned to take a curve.
For now—just for the next twenty minutes—I’d let myself touch him, savor his presence.
Then we’d go our separate ways.
When we finally pulled around the back of Elle’s barn to the little gravel parking area in front of my new apartment, I dropped my arms and let him go. I didn’t let myself feel sad.
I tried not to let myself feel anything.
He swung off the bike and took my hand, leading me over to the door, which was a good thing. I felt like I was trapped in a dream, everything distant and surreal.
“Crap,” I muttered, looking at the lock. “I don’t have my keys. They’re in my purse, and I have no idea what happened to it, or my phone.”
“They might find your purse at the house,” Ruger said. “Your phone is gone. I’ll get you a new one tomorrow.”
He let me go and turned back to his bike, digging through one of the saddlebags to pull out a small black leather pouch. When he came back and opened it, I saw a collection of strange little tools.
“Lock picks,” he said shortly.
“So this is just another part of your life?” I asked, numb. “You just go around, ready and waiting to break into places?”
He glanced up at me and opened his mouth to speak. Something in my face must have caught his attention, because his expression softened.
“Babe, I’m a locksmith, used to be my job,” he said, his voice gentle. “Locksmith, gunsmith—if it’s made of metal and has tiny little parts, I like working with it. When I was a kid I built shit out of Legos; now I have big-boy toys. For a while I worked full-time doing lockout calls. Sometimes it’s not about scary stuff, okay?”
I nodded, but I wasn’t sure if I believed him.
“Whatever,” I murmured. The door clicked open and I walked in, looking around. Everything was just like I’d left it the day before. Normal. All normal. It could almost have been a dream.
“You need to get cleaned up,” he said. “I’ll call Kimber and tell her to bring Noah home in an hour or so. I don’t want him freaking out.”
“Was he worried about me?” I asked, walking over to get a drink of water. I considered offering him one, and then didn’t, because fuck Ruger. The little surge of anger was good—made me feel less numb.
“I’m sure he was,” he replied. “Kimber’s been with him the whole time, though. They’ve been watching movies and shit. I talked to him for about five minutes this morning but I haven’t seen him. I was focused on getting you back.”
I turned to look at him, so big he seemed to fill my tiny living room.
“Soph, we need to talk,” he said slowly, looking almost nervous. “I need you to tell me everything that happened. Did they … hurt … you?”
I snorted.
“Um, yeah, they hurt me,” I said, reaching up to touch my bruised cheek. “They threw me in a van, tied me up, and held me prisoner while threatening to kill me because of some bullshit with your club that I don’t understand or care about. So yeah, that part kind of sucked. Thanks for asking.”
“Did they rape you?” he asked bluntly. I shook my head. His face softened with relief, and he walked toward me. I held my hand up flat, halting him.
Limits. Time to set them.
“Ruger, we’ve been playing around, and it’s over,” I said, focusing my eyes on his chest. His 1% patch taunted me, reminding me exactly why this had to happen. “I know I’ve said that before, but everything’s changed now. It doesn’t matter how you make me feel or how nice you are. Your club is dangerous, and I don’t want anything to do with any of you. Noah and I, we can’t afford that.”
He stilled.
“I can see why you might feel that way—” he started to say, but I cut him off.
“No, you really can’t,” I said. “You didn’t spend the night handcuffed to a bed, wondering if you’d get raped or murdered. You didn’t hear your friend screaming in the dark, or hear a gunshot when you tried to escape. We could have died, Ruger … So here’s the way it’s going to be from now on. I’ll let you see Noah once a week. We’ll make the plans in advance. You’ll keep him away from your club and you won’t talk to him about motorcycles. You won’t wear your damned colors and you won’t do anything that could ever lead to any kind of danger. You’ll call me to make arrangements a
nd you’ll pick him up and drop him off when and where I tell you.”
His eyes hardened and his jaw clenched. I felt his anger and frustration in the air around me like a tangible thing, which was actually kind of funny because I didn’t give a flying fuck what he thought of my plans.
Not anymore.
“You’ll follow my rules,” I continued. “Or I’ll never let Noah see you again. Believe me, I’ll do it. In fact, I’d like to do it right now, but I know how much he loves you and it would be devastating to him. So we’ll try this out, and if it works, great. It doesn’t work or I feel like he’s in danger? You’re gone.”
“You can’t do that,” he said. He started toward me again. I stood my ground as he closed in, doing that domination thing, getting into my space. I stared up at him, his chest about three inches from my chin, and I didn’t care how big and scary he was.
I didn’t care about anything.
“I’m his mother. You have no rights. None. I let you see him because I’m a nice person, and I can stop being nice at any time. Do not fuck with me, Ruger.”
He reached up and touched my face lightly, running his finger across my cheek. It sent shivers down my back, and just like that I wanted him.
“I won’t fuck around,” he said. “Just so you know. I nearly lost you. I won’t risk that again. I told you before I’d never be a one-woman man, but I was wrong.”
I looked in his face, studying his eyes. He meant it. I thought about lying in bed with him … I wanted to give in. I wanted him.
It didn’t matter.
“Too late,” I said, and I meant it. “I’m done with you, and I’m fucking serious. Get. Out. Of. My. House.”
He held my gaze, then the miracle happened.
Ruger listened.
He backed away, turned, and walked out of the house. I heard his bike roar to life outside and then the sound of him riding away.
I’d done it. I’d finally managed to put Ruger in his place. Unfortunately, I was too tired to enjoy it.
MONDAY
KIMBER: How u doing?
ME: Ok. Noah’s still kind of clingy. You did a good job but he was still scared. Thank you so much for taking care of him. Im so glad he was safe
KIMBER: That’s what friends do—u wud do it for me. I’ve been thinkng about u … U want to get together, maybe talk?
ME: No. Just want to lay low for a while
WEDNESDAY
MARIE: Hey Sophie! Me and Maggs and Dancer want to hang out tomorrow night … Want to join us?
ME: Thanks but probably not. You have fun
MARIE: Okay. How are you?
ME: Im fine
MARIE: You talked to Em?
ME: No. She ok?
MARIE: Not sure. She wont tell me anything. I’m worried … Did anythng happen we should know about? I mean, while you guys were … wherever? Maybe we can get together and talk
ME: Im fine, just want to stick to myself and Noah for a while. Em and I werent together the whole time. If you want to know more, you need to get it from her
MARIE: Okay. We’re worried about you too … How are things
ME: Fine. I just want space
MARIE: I get that. But please call if you need us ((hugs))
THURSDAY
DANCER: Hey. how goes it? Maybe we could let the kids play this afternoon?
ME: Um, we’re pretty busy right now.
DANCER: Know how that goes … Did you remember Maries bachelorette party? Its a week from Friday. We have a sitter, she offered to watch Noah too
ME: Not sure I’ll maek it. I’ll find my own sitter
DANCER: Okay. Don’t hide out too long
FRIDAY
KIMBER: This is bullshit. I get ur pissed at Ruger and Reapers but I’m not one of them, u can’t freeze me out. You guys come over tonight or I’m sending Ryan to get u
ME: Noah and I are watching movies at home
KIMBER: No. Ur coming to my house. We’re having a party. I need backup!!! NO Reapers. Nromal people. Kids too. U and Noah be here at six or I will come and get you. Not fucking around.
ME: Your a pushy bitch
KIMBER: Ya think? Get ur ass here or I’ll come for u. No excuses. Bring swimsuits and a dessert
My brand-new iPhone said it was five fifty-six when we pulled up to Kimber’s house. Ruger had dropped it off the previous Sunday, the day after my little adventure with Em. I wanted to tell him to go to hell, but I needed a phone, and I figured he could afford it better than I could. I didn’t feel guilty about it, either. It was his fault I’d gotten kidnapped in the first place, so I might as well blame him for drowning my phone.
I didn’t let him into the house. Noah wanted to go to his house and I told him no. Then I shut the door in Ruger’s face.
Now it was Friday night and I’d caved to Kimber’s ultimatum, because I knew she was serious when she said they’d come and get me. I held a plate of brownies in one hand and a bag of swim gear in the other, and when Kimber’s husband, Ryan, opened the door, I had to smile. He wore neon-green swim trunks and a purple Hawaiian-print shirt. On his head was an orange cowboy hat, and he held a Super Soaker in one hand.
Coming here had been a good idea, I realized.
“Welcome to the party,” he said, smiling at me broadly.
“Nice look,” I said, eyeing his outfit.
“Hey, it takes a very confident man to pull something like this off,” he said without an ounce of shame.
“Did you lose a bet?” I asked, smirking.
“As a matter of fact, he did,” said another man, coming over to stand next to Ryan. He had longish, scruffy brown hair and a great smile, and the look in his eyes said he appreciated my appearance. He also held a Super Soaker, although he wore perfectly normal trunks and a T-shirt that said “Code Monkey Like You.”
I’d seen his picture before—this was the guy Kimber had wanted to set me up with.
“Ryan and I had a little programming challenge at work, and I kicked his ass. Hi, I’m Josh. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” I said, glancing down at my full hands helplessly. “Um, sorry, I’d offer to shake your hand, but …”
He laughed, and then his eyes widened almost comically as he saw the brownies.
“Let me help you with those,” he said, reaching out to grab the treats. “And who is this?”
“I’m Noah,” my boy announced. “Do you have any more of those Soakers, Ryan?”
“I have a whole box out back,” Ryan replied. “You want to come pick one out? We have a bunch of kids out there. I’ll bet they’d love to play with you.”
“Mom?” He looked up at me, eyes pleading.
“Go ahead,” I said, feeling almost carefree. Kimber was right. I had needed to get out, and coming to a nice, suburban party like this was just what I needed. No Reapers, no kidnappings, nothing bad at all.
I could do this.
Noah took off through the house, followed by Ryan. Josh looked down at me, offering a friendly smile.
“So, once we get this stuff settled, could I get you a drink?”
“Sure,” I said. “So tell me, how long have you and Ryan worked together?”
Three hours later I was feeling pretty good about life. Josh turned out to be a great guy, spending a good chunk of the night hanging out with me, but not so much that it felt weird. Ryan grilled burgers and hot dogs, the kids played in the pool, and Kimber’s blender ran almost constantly, churning out margaritas in every imaginable flavor. I stuck with iced tea and laughed so hard I nearly cried when Ryan caught her and threw her into the pool.
The mob of kids kept growing, and I met so many people I couldn’t begin to keep them all straight. Most were from Kimber’s neighborhood or Ryan’s work—sleek, polished yoga moms and their slightly dorky husbands who worked as accountants and IT professionals. Nothing like the Reapers’ party.
The first time I’d met Ryan, I didn’t understand him and Kimber together. He was so ge
eky and she was so wild and cool—but they balanced each other out perfectly. I was holding Ava and sitting by the pool after eating when Josh came over and flopped into a chair next to me.
“So,” he said, grinning at me. “I’ve got a question for you.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“You and Noah want to hit Chuck E. Cheese’s for dinner tomorrow?” he said. “I know it’s not the most romantic setting, but I’ve got this theory about skee-ball that needs testing, and I figured he’d be an excellent assistant.”
I burst out laughing.
“Are you insane? Chuck E. Cheese’s on a Saturday night is crazy. I bet you wouldn’t last an hour.”
His eyes brightened.
“Is that a challenge?” he asked. “You sure you’re up to it?”
“You’re too funny,” I said, shaking my head.
“Funny enough to get a date with you tomorrow?” he said, offering a sly smile. “I’d go for the brooding, manly thing and try to be all mysterious, but I’ve never really been able to pull it off.”
I sobered, thinking of Ruger. The two men couldn’t have been more different, that was for sure.
“Um, I’m not really looking for a boyfriend,” I said slowly. “And I’ll be honest—you bring a seven-year-old on a date, you’re probably not gonna get some at the end.”
He shrugged.
“It’s just an evening,” he said. “No big deal. Besides that, I’ve got a deep, dark secret to share with you.”
He leaned toward me, waving me in close. I shifted, balancing Ava as he spoke in my ear.
“I really do have an amazing skee-ball theory,” he said, his voice grave and serious. “It needs experimentation. You’d be doing me a huge favor.”
I started laughing again, pulling away.
“Does that line actually work for you?” I asked. He smiled at me.
“I don’t know, does it?”
I thought about Ruger, how he made me feel and compared it to this man. Josh didn’t give me chills when I felt his breath against my ear, but he was nice to look at and seemed fun and friendly. And how much trouble could we get into on a date at a kiddie pizza place, anyway?