Reaper's Legacy

by Joanna Wylde

  Crap.

  He stepped over and rotated the corn while I studied him, suspicious. He stayed quiet, pulling out his phone and checking his messages. Yup, definitely worse. At least when we fought I knew where we stood.

  On the bright side, Noah’s little trout were pretty tasty—all three bites. He turned down salmon to eat SpongeBob-shaped macaroni and cheese, no huge surprise there. Ruger startled me by bringing out a bottle of sparkling cider to celebrate my new job. Noah was ecstatic, drinking half the juice by himself out of a real wine glass. I have to admit, I was touched. After dinner we cleared the dishes while Noah took off again, with a stern warning that we’d be heading home in ten minutes.

  “You start work tomorrow?” Ruger asked as I loaded the dishwasher.

  “Nine on the dot,” I replied, feeling a little rush of excitement. “It’s perfect. I can’t believe how things worked out. Thanks again for helping today—you have no idea how much it meant to me.”

  “I note you didn’t follow up on the job at The Line,” he said, cocking a brow. I frowned and looked away.

  “Um, I wasn’t really serious about that anyway,” I said. “I don’t want to work for the club.”

  “Yeah, you made your feelings about the club clear,” he said. My mood deflated a little. “I’ve got something for you.”

  “That’s a loaded statement,” I replied, my voice flat. He smirked, and I felt better. It wasn’t an angry smirk.

  “Dirty mind, Soph?” he asked. “Seriously, this is important. Come on into the living room.”

  I followed him, then sat in a chair. He sat on the couch, then patted the seat next to him. I shook my head. He held up a thick, business-sized envelope.

  “You don’t get your surprise if you don’t come over here.”

  “What makes you think I’ll want it?”

  “Oh, you’ll want it,” he said, clearly pleased with himself. I got up and walked over to him slowly. He grabbed my hand, pulling me down and across his lap. I gave a token struggle, but he handed me the envelope and curiosity took over, so I let him win.

  Also, it felt kind of nice to sit on his lap. Yeah, I know. Stupid. But I’m only human.

  I opened the envelope and saw cash. A very large wad of cash. My eyes opened wide and I pulled it out, shocked. I didn’t count it, but it seemed to be all hundred-dollar bills … there had to be three or four thousand dollars in here.

  “What the hell is this?” I asked, looking at him. He gave me a grim smile.

  “Child support.”

  “Holy shit!” I gasped. “How did you get this out of Zach?”

  “It’s from Mom’s estate,” Ruger said. “I paid him out and then he paid you out. In exchange, he gets to keep living. Everybody wins.”

  I turned to look at him, shocked.

  “Are you serious?” I asked. Our faces were about two inches apart, and his eyes flicked to my lips. I licked them nervously and felt something stir under my butt. His arms came around my waist, holding me loosely, and my nipples hardened.

  Damn it.

  “Pretty hard to get more serious,” he told me. “Old friend tracked down Zach for me in North Dakota and I rode over there Sunday afternoon, got back early this morning. We had words. Then we went to the bank. I didn’t give him the promise to let him live in writing—that’s just a little side incentive. I’ll revoke it if he ever gets within ten miles of you or Noah again. Mom would’ve wanted this anyway. She never stopped loving him, but she sure as shit stopped trusting him.”

  I swallowed. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the details … But I couldn’t feel sorry for Zach. He’d earned everything he got and then some.

  “How much money is in here?” I asked, flipping through the wad of cash.

  “Not all of it,” he said. “That’s just last year’s. The rest is in transit. Dealing with that much cash gets complicated. Needs to be cleaned up a bit, and then we’ll find a way to get it to you that won’t leave an ugly trail. The trade-off is, we agreed on your current monthly rate, and it’s not like you can take him to court to ask for more if he gets a great job or something.”

  “I couldn’t even get him to pay what he owed already,” I said. “Health and Welfare won’t do shit, either. I don’t think upward adjustments were on the table.”

  “Sort of what I figured,” he replied. “So I’m real glad you got a job, but you won’t be living paycheck to paycheck anymore.”

  “That’s amazing,” I whispered, looking back down at the envelope. “I have to ask … Is it going to come back on me and Noah? Am I going to get arrested?”

  “You’re good,” he said. “That’s not enough cash to catch any IRS attention, and Horse is working on getting the rest of it to you all safe and legal. He’s a damned good accountant, and he’ll work with our lawyer. Fuckin’ shark. If Zach ever tries to cause trouble about it, you call me and I’ll make him go away.”

  His arms tightened around me, hinting at his strength, and I shivered.

  “This is another case of you doing my dirty work for me, isn’t it?” I asked softly.

  “It’s Noah’s money,” Ruger said, his face serious. “This isn’t about you, Sophie. It’s about Zach taking care of his son—and it’s not like it even came out of his pocket. That insurance settlement came out of nowhere. Noah has a right to this money, and my mom would shit if she knew Zach was starving you guys out. I fixed the problem. Don’t think about it anymore, just use the money to take care of our boy, okay?”

  I nodded my head, leaning my head against his chest. He kissed the top of my head and rubbed up and down my back.

  “So Horse is an accountant?” I asked after a minute. “I find that hard to picture.”

  “I’d just as soon you not picture Horse at all,” he muttered, and I smiled.

  “Thank you,” I whispered. I’d never seen that much money in my life. Hell, at this rate we’d have the fancy macaroni and cheese all the time! And the rest? If I saved it, I’d be able to pay for Noah’s college.

  My kid would go to college. I felt tears well up in my eyes, which bugged me because I hated crying.

  “If you really want to thank me, give me a blow job,” Ruger said, his voice light. I straightened up and smacked his shoulder, and he burst out laughing.

  “Why do you have to say things like that?”

  “You were getting all soft and sweet,” he said. “And when you get like that I really want to fuck you. But Noah’s right outside and this is shit timing. Riling you up takes care of that soft and sweet crap.”

  “You’re impossible,” I told him, trying to get up. He held me down, though, and riling me up clearly wasn’t making him less interested in sex. The evidence under my ass was getting harder by the second.

  “How about this,” he said. “One kiss. Give me one kiss and we’ll call it even.”

  “No,” I told him. “You’re up to something. You can’t let me win, can you?”

  Ruger grinned at me.

  “Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “I’m up to something. And I’m never going to let you win, so you might as well give up now.”

  With that his lips came down over mine in another of those kisses that destroyed my ability to think. He explored my mouth softly and I explored right back, wishing like hell that Noah was with a babysitter. Heroin. The man was pure heroin. Heroin kills people, my brain screamed. My body flipped off my brain and kept kissing Ruger. Finally he let my lips go and pulled back, smiling and looking smug as hell.

  “Like I said, might as well give up, Soph,” he said. “Sooner or later I’m gonna win this little game of ours.”

  I sat up slowly, shaking my head. How did he do that to me? I wanted him so bad I couldn’t see straight, and he turned it off, just like that. Noah ran up across the deck and looked at us through the window, pressing his mouth wide open against it and making a blowfish face. Then he started laughing wildly and ran off again.

  Okay. That turned it off.

  “
You want to keep your own place for a while,” Ruger said, touching my cheek softly. “I’ll try to understand that. It’s all happening fast and that’s scary. But you’re still mine, Soph. Don’t think for one minute I’ve forgotten that or changed my mind.”

  “You planning to keep your dick in your pants at the club?” I asked bluntly.

  “I’m not planning not to keep it in my pants,” he said slowly. “But I’ve told you—I’m not a one-woman man. I won’t lie to you or make promises I’m not sure I can keep.”

  “And there we have it,” I replied, shaking my head. “Fuck off, Ruger. I’m going home.”

  RUGER: What time do you get off work?

  ME: 5. Why

  RUGER: Want to come over and check your place out for security

  ME: No

  RUGER: You haven’t figured this out yet? I’m going to do it. Rather do it when it’s convenient for you but happens either way. What time? I’ll bring pizza

  ME: We get home around 6. Noah likes his pizza plain

  RUGER: Plain? Like nothing?????

  ME: Plain. Be happy. Used to be he wouldnt let them put sauce on it

  RUGER: Plain it is. See you at 6

  ME: He’s invading my space

  KIMBER:?????

  ME: Ruger. He’s invadng my space. Coming over tonight to check out security on new place. Bribing us with pizza

  KIMBER: Control freak much? What’s security

  ME: He likes my apartments to have alarms. Checks for bad windows and locks. Deadbolts.That kind of thing

  KIMBER: thats sweet tho! He wants u safe

  ME: He’s the biggest danger

  KIMBER: Be happy. U have a hot guy coming over and he’s bringing dinner. Women have killed for less

  ME: Whose side you on?

  KIMBER: Mine. Haven’t u figured this out yet?

  ME: Bitch

  KIMBER: Ho

  ME: At least I don’t drive a minivan

  KIMBER: See if I make YOU margaritas again! LOW BLOW!!!!!!

  ME: <3

  “You don’t have to spend a lot of money to keep a place safe,” Ruger told Noah, his voice serious. They crouched together as Ruger installed a new deadbolt on our exterior door. We had two—one leading outside and the other leading into the rest of the barn, which was pretty cool in its own right. Among other things, it had a loft complete with mounds of old hay for Noah to jump in. Even better, there were stairs leading up to it and a railing, safety features I assumed they put in for Elle’s cousin.

  “If you have empty pop cans, you can make an alarm by stacking them in front of your door,” Ruger said. “The goal is to make noise, so that you know if someone tries to come in. Most bad guys will run away if there’s noise. That’s why I put those little alarms on the windows. If you ever see a bad guy, don’t be quiet. Start screaming. And don’t yell help—yell ‘Call the cops!’ as loud as you can, okay?”

  “You’re going to scare him,” I said from the couch, debating whether I should eat the last slice of pizza. Between Ruger and Noah, it’d disappeared pretty fast.

  “You scared, Noah?” Ruger asked.

  “Nope,” Noah said. “Ruger’s smart. He’s teaching me all kinds of safety stuff. He says you need to stop texting on your phone when you walk places, Mom, and pay attention to the people around you. He also says there’s this little stick you need to start carrying around. It’s called a cuburtron.”

  “Kubaton,” Ruger corrected, looking over at me. “It’s a little baton for your keychain. Very effective, very safe. You should come take the self-defense class at the shop, Sophie.”

  “I don’t need a self-defense class,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I have my own personal stalker to protect me already. It’s almost Noah’s bedtime—you planning to go home at some point?”

  “After I finish up,” he said. “Bath time, kiddo.”

  Noah did the obligatory whining and begging to stay up, but his heart wasn’t in it. Bath went fast, with Ruger finishing the lock just as Noah got out.

  “Will you do my story tonight?” he asked Ruger.

  “Sure thing, little man,” Ruger said. “What are we reading?”

  “Magic Tree House,” Noah replied. “I can read it by myself, but I like it when you do it.”

  I picked up the small living room as Ruger read to Noah. We had a futon for a couch, which was where I slept. Normally I’d start setting it up by now, but I didn’t want to give Ruger ideas. After half an hour, he came back out, closing Noah’s door behind him softly.

  “Kid’s out,” he said. “Fell asleep halfway through the chapter. I think he’s doin’ great, but he’s been through a lot lately.”

  “Thanks for your help,” I said awkwardly.

  “Here’re your new keys,” he said, tossing them toward me. “I replaced all the locks, so you’ll need to give a set to Elle. Her old ones won’t work.”

  “Um, that’s great,” I said.

  “Can I have Noah for a while on Friday afternoon?” he asked. “I’m headin’ out on a run this weekend. Might not be back for four or five days.”

  “Sure,” I said. “I need him by seven, though.”

  “Sounds good,” he said. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall casually. “So how long are we gonna do this?”

  “Do what?”

  He raised a hand and gestured around the little apartment.

  “Have you and Noah live here when you could be over at my house.”

  “This is nice,” I protested. “It’s clean, it’s safe, and I don’t need to worry about the landlord attacking me in the night. It’s not happening between us, Ruger. Not. Happening.”

  He didn’t respond, and I watched him warily. He was up to something … I could smell it. Suddenly he pushed off from the wall and walked over, catching me around the waist. Then he threw me over his shoulder, just like he’d done that weekend.

  “No!” I yelled. “You don’t get to haul me off whenever you don’t get your way!”

  He smacked my ass.

  “Shut up,” he said. “You’ll wake up Noah. If he comes out here, he’ll see you like this, and then you can figure out how to explain it to him. If he asks me, I’ll tell him the truth. Mommy’s been a bad girl and she needs a spanking.”

  “You asshole,” I hissed, kicking and smacking his back as hard as I could. Maybe I should take one of those kube-thingie classes. I could’ve shoved it up his big, dumb ass as he carried me out of the apartment and into the barn.

  Ruger ignored my struggles, which pissed me off even more.

  He carried me through the barn and up the stairs to the hayloft. I sensed a pattern. At least there wasn’t a bathroom up here, so no cold water spray. Small comfort. He dropped me down on a pile of straw so hard I lost my breath, looming tall as he unbuckled his belt and ripped it through the loops on his jeans. Then he folded it between his hands and snapped it. I glared at him, scuttling backward across the hay like a crab.

  “I need to tie you up again?” he asked.

  “We aren’t doing this,” I declared, even though my brain had already started the familiar shutdown his presence seemed to cause. God, I loved how he smelled. Not to mention the feel of his cock deep down inside … those little metal knobs made a hell of a difference. “Go to hell, Ruger.”

  “Fuck no. We are definitely doing this,” he said. “Maybe I can fuck some sense into you. Words obviously don’t work.”

  With that he pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside. I glared at him as he opened his fly and pulled off his jeans without another word. He knelt forward in the hay and caught my hands, pinning them on either side of my head. His head lowered as he scented me, kissing the fading bruises on my neck, nibbling and sucking like he’d done at the party.

  Damned distracting. Shit, that felt good.

  “They’re fading,” he said, pulling away just enough to meet my eyes. I didn’t like his expression, not at all. “Maybe I’ll give you some new ones. What do you think?
”

  “I think you’re a raging asshole.”

  Ruger laughed.

  “Yeah, well I think you’re a bitch, but my cock likes you, so we’ll figure something out.”

  He caught my mouth again, but this time the kiss wasn’t hard and brutal. Nope, he changed tactics, because now his lips whispered over mine, nipping and sucking, drawing them apart gently as I tried to ignore him. Then he tugged my hands together over my head, freeing a hand to slide down between us. His fingers drifted across my stomach before reaching the top of the yoga pants I’d put on when I got home.

  He starting pulling them down, and I realized this was it.

  Ruger was about to win again, because Ruger always won, and I always let him because my body wanted him more than my brain hated him. I raised my hips, making it easier for him to take off my pants, which was just another nail in my fucking coffin. Then his fingers slid into me and I shuddered.

  The damage was done already anyway, I justified. What difference would it really make? When he finally stopped kissing me, we stared at each other, panting. His fingers stroked down below, grazing my clit, and I twisted, wanting more.

  “Jesus, you piss me off,” he murmured. “Good thing your cunt’s so fucking hot.”

  “Don’t call it that.”

  His lip twitched.

  “Good thing your vagina’s so gosh-darned hot,” he whispered. “Because I really, really want to stick my penis in it and have repeated sexual intercourse, bringing us to a mutually satisfactory culmination of our desires. How’s that sound?”

  “Almost dirtier,” I said, mouth quirking. Fucking ridiculous. All of it. I wanted to kill him and screw him and scream at him, so now he made jokes? I almost laughed, but his fingers rubbed right up against my G-spot while his thumb played with my clit. I couldn’t figure out how he made me so wet, so fast, every single time.

  “Oh, it’s dirtier,” he told me, nuzzling me again, tugging on my ear with his teeth. “If I let go of your hands, are you gonna try to get away?”

  I considered the question seriously.

  “No,” I admitted. “But this is a one-time deal. We’re never having sex again after this time.”

  Ruger gave me that lazy panther smile of his and didn’t answer. He did let me go, though, and I reached up, pushing him over and back down into the hay. Then I straddled him. I had one shot at this, I realized. One last chance to play with Ruger’s body. What should I do with it?