Текст книги "Reaper's Legacy"

Автор книги: Joanna Wylde

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

“Just ignore it,” Marie muttered, rolling her eyes. “Bunch of dumbasses. The Dumpster’s out in the front, across from the parking lot. The geniuses who designed this place didn’t put in many external doors. Built to be a fortress. Annoying as hell.”

We lugged the garbage across the room, and I felt my cheeks burning. Then a man came up and grabbed the heavy can on my side.

“You girls should’ve asked for help,” he said, smiling at me. He was kind of cute, I realized. A little older—probably in his thirties. He had a long beard, tattoos (they all had tattoos, I figured it must be in the bylaws or something), and he wore a cut with one of those little diamond 1% patches. His name read “D.C.”

“Thanks,” Marie said brightly. “Grab the door for us, will you, Soph?”

I opened the big main door leading out into the front parking lot. There were more guys out there, sort of standing around—the guys I’d seen earlier, who didn’t have very many patches on their vests.

“Prospects, get your asses over here and take care of this garbage,” D.C. yelled, and two of them jumped up to grab the can.

“It needs to go back in the kitchen when they’re done,” Marie told D.C.

“No prob, babe,” he replied. “Who’s your friend?”

Marie and I exchanged glances. I could tell she didn’t want to introduce me, but neither of us wanted to be rude, either.

“I’m Sophie,” I said, taking the pressure off her. “I’m just visiting. In fact, I’m heading out soon.”

Marie opened her mouth to add something. Suddenly a giant man came up behind her, swinging her up and twirling her around before throwing her over his shoulder.

Horse.

“I need fucked, woman!” he declared, smacking her ass. Then he carried her back into the building as she shrieked in protest.

I suddenly found myself alone in the dark with D.C. and the prospects. None of the younger guys looked me in the eye, and I thought very hard about the warnings I’d been given earlier.

Yup—I was in the negative on every detail.

“Nice brands,” he said. He reached up to trace the stupid hickies Ruger had given me. “You belong to someone?”

Now that was a loaded question.

“It’s complicated,” I replied, glancing around. I don’t know what I was looking for. Kimber would know what to do at a time like this, I thought darkly. “I need to get back inside, find the girls. I’ll just … go over there,” I added, nodding toward the big gate in the wall to the side of the building. The gate I’d come in before. No way I would be walking back through that clubhouse by myself, not after what I’d seen in there.

“I’ll take you,” D.C. said, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and tucking me in tight next to his body. I smelled booze on his breath.

Shit. SHIT. SHIT!

“Hey there!” Em yelled, waving at me from the gate. I’d never been so happy to see someone in my life. She walked over to us, her smile bright and sweet. “Thanks for finding Sophie, D.C. I need to get her back now—Ruger’s up next in the ring, and he’ll be super pissed if she misses his fight. They live together, you know.”

D.C. let me go and I ran over to Em. He frowned at me.

“Told you it was complicated,” I said, my voice wavering. “Sorry?”

He snorted as he turned and walked back into the Armory, slamming the door behind him. The remaining guys looked everywhere but at me and Em.

“Jesus, I could kill Marie for leaving you with him,” Em muttered, grabbing my arm and dragging me across the parking lot toward the gate. “At least she yelled at me to go get you as Horse carried her past. Never leave a sister behind, you know? That could’ve gotten ugly.”

“Um, she didn’t really have much choice,” I said. “Horse just grabbed her and carried her off. It happened really fast.”

“All Horse thinks about is sex,” Em snapped, her voice heavy with a mixture of disgust and what sounded suspiciously like jealousy.

“At least Marie sent you out here,” I said. “Would he have hurt me?”

“Probably not,” she said, her voice smooth. “But odds are good he’s drunk. You get a guy drunk enough, he doesn’t always hear the word ‘no.’”

“Does that happen?’

“Rape?” she asked, bluntly. I nodded.

“It’s not supposed to,” she said. “It’s not like it’s considered okay or anything, but I’m sure it’s happened here. It happened in my college dorm, too. Anytime you put people together, some of them are going to do horrible things. And you get enough horny men drinking enough alcohol, it can lead to bad shit. I’ll tell you one thing—I feel safer here than I have at some frat parties. Reaper parties might get wilder than college ones, but we have rules and trust me, they’re enforced.”

“And you grew up around this?” I asked. “Wasn’t that … scary?”

“I grew up with twenty uncles,” Em said, smiling brightly as we passed through the gate. She raised a hand to the guys standing there and they all waved back. Clearly, Em was loved. “All of them would’ve done anything for me. I had aunties all over, too, and a bunch of kids to play with—kids I’d known all my life. You saw how many children were here earlier, and they were all having a great time. Of course, we send them home before things get too crazy.”

“And what age did you start staying later?” I asked. She rolled her eyes and shrugged.

“Dad told me to leave about half an hour ago,” she admitted. “He doesn’t want me to grow up. Not that any guy here would lay a finger on me. That’s the thing—this is a family. Family takes care of each other.”

“And all these women running around?” I asked. “That D.C. guy wasn’t interested in me as family.”

Her face fell, and she sighed.

“You aren’t family,” she said softly. “I mean, you’re Ruger’s family and you’ll be treated with respect—D.C.’s not from around here, and he had no idea who you were—but if you’re serious about not being Ruger’s property, you’ll never be a real part of the club.”

“Would you hate me if I told you I don’t want to be part of the club?”

“I get it,” she said, sighing. “Believe me. I just wish it could be different for you guys. I wouldn’t settle for what Ruger’s offering either, though. No fucking way. You want to get out of here? My dad’s gonna see me sooner or later, so I might as well bug out now.”

“Yeah, I really do,” I told her.

“Let’s go watch a movie or something,” she said. “You can come over to my place if you like. We have a killer home theater setup.”

“Um, that sounds good,” I replied, sort of surprised. “You know, it’s funny. I don’t think of a motorcycle club president as being the kind of guy who’d have a home theater.”

“I’ll bet you wouldn’t think he’d have a virgin daughter, either,” she said, regaining some of her humor. “Fuck this, let’s go. Last time they had a party this big, I walked in on my dad screwing this chick I graduated with. It was disgusting.”

Back out in the courtyard, a circle had formed beyond the bonfire. People cheered, yelled, and groaned every few seconds.

“What’s that all about?” I asked, craning my neck.

“Fights,” Em said shortly. “That’s what happens when you have too many penises concentrated in one place. Oh, and I wasn’t kidding when I said Ruger was up next—he’s out there right now. For some reason they think it’s fun to hit each other. Let’s find Maggs. Maybe she’ll come watch movies with us.”

I laughed, then spotted Maggs. She stood near the fire, staring deep into the flames. I walked over to her but she didn’t look up.

“You okay?”

She sighed and crossed her arms, frowning.

“Peachy,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’m just sick and fucking tired of being here without my man. The club’s great and all, but it’s not like having Bolt in my bed.”

I wasn’t quite sure what to do, so I hugged her. She hugged me back. I really wanted to stay friends with these women, despite the whole Ruger situation.

“Hey, you want to come and watch movies with me and Em?” I asked. “I’m sick of Ruger, Picnic says Em has to leave, and you’re lonely. Sounds like God himself wants us to get out of here and eat some chocolate ice cream.”

She snorted.

“Ice cream’s no substitute for a man,” she said wryly.

“We can have whipped cream on it,” I said, waggling my eyebrows. “You can pretend you’re licking it off him instead of the spoon.”

“You’re a dork,” she replied, but she smiled.

“I know,” I said cheerfully. “But I’m a dork who knows her refrigerated toppings, and that’s mission-critical tonight. Let’s go.”

“I want you to meet Buck first,” she said. “You need to ask him about a job.”

I frowned. Did I really want to work at a strip club—especially one owned by the Reapers? Didn’t seem like the best way to distance myself …

“You don’t have to decide tonight,” she said. “Just talk to him, and then we’ll get back to what’s really important—ice cream and chick flicks. A sad one, please, because I’m definitely in the mood for a good cry. Let’s just talk to him, okay?”

“Not like you have anything to lose,” Em added, coming up beside us. “Find Buck, then we’ll ditch this place. I’m ready for a three-way with Ben and Jerry.”

Maggs took my hand and pulled me toward the crowd surrounding the fighters, Em trailing us like a puppy. I couldn’t see much of the fight, what with the wall of bikers cutting us off, but Maggs wormed her way through them like an expert. Soon we stood on the edge of the “ring,” which was just a line traced in the dirt. She was looking around for Buck, but the sound of a fist hitting flesh caught my full attention.

Ruger stood in the center of the circle, naked to the waist, hands bare, expression hostile. He was facing off against a man I didn’t know. He looked a little younger than Ruger, and based on the blood dripping down his face, Ruger was kicking his ass.

Em stumbled to a halt next to me.

“What the hell does Painter think he’s doing?” she muttered. “I can’t believe he’s fighting Ruger. That’s fucking stupid.”

“Why?” I asked, eyes glued to the men circling each other. I could see the top half of Ruger’s panther tattoo above his jeans. It really was perfect for him—every movement was lithe and smooth and utterly predatory.

“Ruger’s really good,” Em said shortly. “He’ll slaughter Painter.”

“Is that the one …?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice grim. “That’s him. The guy who won’t put out for me. I hope Ruger kicks his ass.”

Ruger chose that moment to plow his fist into Painter’s stomach, and the crowd roared. Painter gasped but he stayed upright, recovering surprisingly fast, at least to my uneducated eye.

“He’s over there,” Maggs said, grabbing my arm again. I looked at her blankly.

“Who’s over there?”

“Buck,” she said. “You wanted to talk to him about a job, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” I said, forcing myself to look away from the circling boxers. What kind of idiots fought like this on purpose? Maggs dragged me through the crowd some more, coming to a halt next to a big man watching the fight with his arms crossed. He didn’t look too happy.

“Hey, Buck,” Maggs said brightly. He glanced down at her and raised a brow. I swallowed.

“Um, we can do this a different time,” I leaned in and whispered to Maggs. “He doesn’t look like he’s in a good mood.”

“He’s just like that,” she said. “Right, Buck? You’re always kind of a dick, aren’t you?”

The big man actually smiled.

“And you’re always kind of a bitch, but I like you anyway,” he said. “You ready to ditch Bolt’s ass and fuck a real man?”

“I think Jade might have a problem with that, and she’s a helluva good shot.”

This time the smile reached his eyes.

“That’s the fuckin’ truth,” he said. “God, but she can be a bitch. Never boring. So who’s this?”

“This is Sophie,” she said, jerking me forward. From the ring I heard the crack of flesh hitting flesh, and saw Painter staggering in the corner of my eye. Ruger circled him like a cat playing with its food. I forced myself not to pay attention, focusing on Buck instead. Talking to him couldn’t hurt.

“Sophie’s looking for a job,” Maggs added.

“Dancing?” he asked, raising a brow. His eyes crawled down my figure, assessing me closely in a new way—all business now.

“I want to waitress,” I said. “I’ve waited tables in bars before. Never a strip club, but I’m a hard worker. I hear it’s a good place to work.”

He studied me, face thoughtful.

“You belong to anyone?”

Maggs and I looked at each other, and I shook my head.

“Not really,” I answered.

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“She—”

“Shut up, Maggs,” he said, although his tone wasn’t mean. “She can’t talk for herself, she’s got no place in my bar. So what’s the story, you belong to someone or not?”

There was a sudden flurry of activity between the fighters, a series of fast blows that I couldn’t quite follow in my peripheral vision. Based on the crowd’s reaction, things were getting interesting.

“You this slow takin’ drink orders?” Buck asked. “’Cause I don’t need a slow waitress.”

“Sorry,” I said, gathering myself. “Ruger is my son’s uncle.”

“He give you that ring around your neck?”

“Um, yeah,” I said, grimacing. “And I live with him. Nothing between us, though. I just really need a job.”

Buck eyed me speculatively, then glanced at Maggs. She smirked and rolled her eyes. Buck nodded slowly, then leaned over to the man next to him.

“Hundred bucks on Painter?”

The man stared at him, brows raising.

“You fuckin’ insane?”

“Nope,” Buck said. “We got a bet?”

“Sure, I’ll take your money. Kid’s almost finished.”

Buck turned back to me.

“Show me your tits,” he said.

My eyes widened.

“I’m not looking to dance,” I said quickly. “Just wait tables.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he replied. “But I need to make sure you’ll fill out the uniform right. You can leave your bra, but lift that shirt if you want a job.”

I glanced at Maggs, who nodded reassuringly.

“Don’t worry,” she said, bright eyes darting between me, Buck, and the men fighting. “You need a decent rack to waitress at The Line. Go ahead, nobody will care.”

I took a deep breath, reached down, and pulled up my shirt all the way.

Two seconds later I heard a huge crash. Suddenly Ruger was between me and Buck, fist slamming into his face. Buck went down and Ruger followed, pounding him brutally.

I screamed as Maggs jerked me to the side, both of us ducking our heads and huddling together. Three guys jumped on Ruger, pulling him off Buck. He fought against them, cussing and growling. Picnic appeared, followed by Gage, who carried a bat.

“Shut the fuck up, everyone,” Picnic yelled. “Ruger, pull your shit together! You’re out of the ring, you forfeit. Now stop thinkin’ with your dick, jackass.”

“Let me go,” Ruger growled.

“You gonna pull your shit together?” Gage asked. Ruger nodded tightly and the guys let him go. Gage reached down to Buck, giving him a hand up. “We got a problem here?”

Buck spat out some blood and grinned, the bright red outlining his teeth horrifically and dripping down his chin. He looked like a serial killer.

“It’s all good,” he said, licking his lips. “Asshole just won a bet for me. Too fuckin’ easy.”

Then he glanced at me, still crouched next to Maggs, utterly stunned.

“No job,” he said. “Got enough bitch drama at the bar already. At a fight, though? Perfect. Ruger always wins, fuckin’ beautiful moment. Thanks, sweetheart.”

“Um, okay,” I said quickly. “I think I’d do better working somewhere else anyway.”

Ruger glared at me, chest heaving, his entire body covered with a sheen of sweat.

“You asked him for a job?” he demanded, grabbing my arm and jerking me through the crowd. I tried to break away, but he didn’t even notice.

“Let me go!”

Ruger dragged me over to the courtyard wall and pinned me up against it, putting a hand on either side of my head as he got down into my face.

“What part of this is so fuckin’ complicated?” he asked, as angry as I’d ever seen him. Well, almost … “You don’t just go around flashing your tits. It’s not a difficult concept, Sophie.”

“Maggs said he needed to check me out for the waitress job,” I told him quickly. “She said it wasn’t personal, not a big deal at all.”

Ruger’s eyes darkened.

“When a man asks to see a woman’s tits, it’s always personal,” he said slowly and clearly. “And yours belong to me. No fuckin’ way I’m letting you work at The Line. And keep your damned shirt on. Christ, it’s like I’m talkin’ to myself half the time.”

“No worries,” I said, not bothering to argue. Pointless. “I’ve had enough of this club, I’m leaving. Em and I plan to watch movies and eat ice cream.”

Ruger stilled, then reached out and brushed my hair behind my ear, his touch gentle. I felt myself relax a little. Maybe he wasn’t as angry as I’d thought. Then his fingers slid deeper into my hair and his eyes hardened.

His hand tightened painfully as he jerked my mouth into his. His tongue stabbed deep into my mouth, possessive and dominant. His other hand caught my arm, jerking my body forward into his as he twisted it up and behind me. One knee shoved between my legs, and he slanted his head, taking everything he wanted and more.

My body loved it, the faithless bitch.

The fight had left him sweaty all over, sending out pheromones so strong it’s a wonder I could still stand upright. I wanted to wrap my arms around him but he held me too tight, controlling every move.

I was starting to sense a pattern with Mr. Don’t-Come-Until-I-Tell-You.

Finally he pulled away, both of us gasping for breath. He still held me tight, completely incapable of movement even if I’d wanted to get away, which I didn’t. My brain had checked out a while back. His hips ground into me, cock more than ready to finish things off.

“You belong to me,” he said, voice harsh.

“Ruger—” I started, but a sudden, loud, feminine scream tore through the air.

Ruger dropped me and spun around, covering me with his body as he scoped out the situation. The screaming continued, and then I heard a roar of masculine rage. In the dim firelight I saw a man tear across the courtyard, with about ten more guys chasing him. He hit the far wall, jumped high and caught the top with his hands, pulling himself over.

“Holy shit,” I muttered.

“Stay out of the way,” Ruger said, turning to me. His eyes were deadly serious, and for once I had every intention of doing exactly what he said. “I’ll send one of the girls over, then you get the fuck outta here. Walk to your cars together. Got me?”

“Shouldn’t we call the cops?” I asked as the screaming died down. Now I heard crying and angry shouting. “Someone’s hurt. What the hell is going on?”

“No idea what happened,” Ruger replied. “We’ll get help, no worries. But don’t call the cops. We handle things ourselves, within the club. Do what I say for once and wait for me to send someone over. Then go home and stay there. I can’t deal with this and worry about you, too.”

I nodded and he kissed me hard, then ran off toward the Armory gate. In the distance I heard bikes roar to life and then a gunshot. I slid down the wall and sat, knees drawn up tight against my chest, and did my best to obey Ruger perfectly.

Maggs came over ten minutes later. Her face was grim and she had streaks of blood on her arm. I stood and threw my arms around her, clutching her tight.

“What happened?” I whispered.

“Fucking Toke,” she muttered. “There’s some sort of club shit going down. They voted on it today, supposed to be a done deal, but Toke—he’s out of Portland—had a few too many beers and decided there should be a recount. He started fighting with Deke and pulled a goddamned knife, waving it around like a jackass.”

“Who was screaming?” I asked. I pulled away and looked down at her arm. “You’re all bloody. Who got hurt?”

Her eyes hardened.

“Em,” she said. “Cocksucker caught Em with his knife.”

Shock hit me and I felt myself sway.

“Did anyone call an ambulance?” I asked, glancing around the courtyard. Beyond the fire I saw someone sitting on the ground, surrounded by women.

“She’s fine, thank God,” Maggs said, her voice harsh and angry. “It’s not a bad cut at all. We’ve got a guy who’ll give her a few stitches, keep the whole thing off the radar.”

“What about that gunshot?”

“Pic wasn’t too happy about his baby girl getting cut,” she said, which I figured was a bit of an understatement. “Had to be him. Toke took off, right over the wall, and I’ll bet he’s setting a new land-speed record right now. If he’s smart, he won’t stop ’til he hits Mexico. Em’s a special girl, everyone loves her. Not to mention pulling on his own president. This is more than a fight—it’s club business. Toke just stepped in a giant, steaming pile of shit.”

I shivered.

“Let’s go,” Maggs said. “They want all the girls cleared out. Marie and Dancer’ll stick with Em, but the rest of us are no longer welcome. We need to stay out of the way. Hell, at this rate we’ll be posting bail … Be sure to sleep with your phone tonight.”

“You serious?” I asked, eyes wide.

“If Pic catches Toke, shit’ll get ugly,” she said. “But don’t worry—our boys are smart. They’ll keep the situation under control.”

“And the bail thing? That was a joke, right?”

“Just keep your phone close, okay?”

Holy hell.