Reaper's Legacy
Page 35

“You gonna be okay watching Noah until we get this fixed?” Ruger asked abruptly.
“Yes,” she said, looking up and meeting his gaze. “I’ll take care of him like he’s my own. You don’t need to worry about that.”
“Okay,” he told her. “I’ll come over and see him if I can. I’m not going to let myself get distracted from finding Sophie, though. You need a gun?”
“Oh, I’ve got a gun,” she replied, her voice dark.
“I’ll walk you out,” Painter said, his expression cold. Something in him had changed, Ruger realized. He’d always been a good man, but he wore a new sense of purpose this morning. Maybe this would motivate him to pull his shit together. He’d always assumed Painter and Em would end up together. Clearly she’d gotten tired of waiting. Fucking Internet dating … might as well paint a bright red target on her head.
Ruger was seeing things pretty clearly this morning himself. He needed Sophie back, safe and sound. Needed her more than his own life. He didn’t give a flying f**k about any other woman. If he’d pulled his head out of his ass earlier, this wouldn’t have happened, because she’d have been safe at home with him, in his bed.
Once he got her back, he’d never let her go again.
Never.
She wanted commitment? He’d tattoo her f**king name on his forehead if he had to. Whatever it took to keep her safe.
“Any news from the boys in Portland?” Duck asked.
“Not so far,” Picnic replied. “They think Toke might have the Jack—goes by Clutch—out to the coast. They’re looking for him, but don’t exactly have a lot of leads.”
“How’s the one he shot?”
“Critical but stable, whatever the f**k that means,” Pic said. “Guess that’s something to be thankful for. Okay, let’s get going on this. We got two hours before our meet with Hunter. Thoughts?”
“Let me handle this one,” Duck said, crossing his arms. “You’re too involved, and that means your brain won’t be working. You and Ruger should stay here.”
“No f**kin’ way,” Picnic said, shaking his head. “I’m the president. This is my job.”
“You’re a father and you’re running on fumes,” Duck replied. “You do this and f**k it up, your girl dies. You really believe you can look this f**kwad in the eye and play nice? ’Cause I don’t think you can. Be smart and let me handle it. You don’t want me, have Horse do it, or Bam Bam. We’re your brothers for a reason. We’ve got your back.”
Picnic shook his head again, face tense. He’d started methodically loading spare magazines for his new gun, which he’d been test-firing earlier. Ruger knew he planned to kill Hunter with that same gun, because they’d spent close to an hour together, carefully choosing just the right weapon to do it.
Something untraceable, with a small enough caliber to do slow, steady damage for a long, long time without ending the bastard’s life too quickly.
“Ruger, you need to stay back, too,” Horse said. Ruger glanced up at him and shook his head.
“Nope,” he said. “I’m going. Nonnegotiable. I don’t need to be lead, but I’ll be there.”
Horse and Duck exchanged looks.
“Okay, new plan,” Duck said. “I’ll be lead, you guys come along but keep back. We can’t let him f**k with you—he gets you worked up, you do something stupid, he wins. Got me?”
“Got it,” Pic said. “Just so long as you remember—in the end, he’s mine.”
“Ours,” Ruger corrected. “Him and his friend.”
“And Toke?” Bam Bam asked. “Thoughts on him?”
“Let him answer to the brothers,” Ruger said. “We voted, we made a decision for the club. He ignored that. Fucker needs to pay.”
SOPHIE
“He’s going to go meet with Dad,” Em said, finally speaking.
Earlier Hunter had come and taken her away, only returning her about ten minutes ago. She’d been gone with him for what felt like an eternity. Realistically, it probably hadn’t been more than an hour. When she’d first come back she’d kept pretty quiet. Now she lay with me on the bed again, me cuffed by my right wrist and Em cuffed by her left.
“Why?” I asked.
“I think he’s trying to save the situation,” she said, her voice sounding a little mournful. “I think he actually cares about me, Soph.”
I widened my eyes.
“You can’t be serious,” I said. “He wants to screw you—I get that, he’s a guy and you’re hot. But a man who cares about a woman doesn’t kidnap her.”
“Ask Marie about that,” she said, sounding uncomfortable. “Horse totally kidnapped her. Now they’re getting married.”
That shut me up for a minute.
“Do I want to know the whole story?” I asked finally.
“It’s not going to make you feel any better.”
Motorcycle pipes roared outside the house and we heard the sound of someone riding away.
“That’s Hunter leaving,” she said. “If I get away and Dad finds out I’m safe, he’ll kill him for sure.”
“Don’t,” I said, looking over at her. She seemed downcast, thoughtful. Shit, we couldn’t afford this. “Don’t you dare have second thoughts. This guy is dangerous and we’re going to get seriously hurt if we stay here. We’re going to escape. In fact, we’re going to escape soon.”
“I know,” she said. “I just wish—”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
We gave it an hour, or at least we thought it was about an hour. We wanted to be sure Hunter was far away before we tried our escape. Em opened the knife and popped out a tiny, thin flat-head screwdriver. Five minutes later we were out of the cuffs and taking turns peeking out the window. Hunter hadn’t lied. We appeared to be in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by scruffy shrubs, open ground, and the occasional pine tree.
Only the van sat outside, no more bikes, which hopefully meant we’d only be dealing with Skid. Even so, there wasn’t a lot of ground cover.
“If he chases us we don’t have a chance,” I said, my voice grim.
“He won’t chase us,” she replied. “Here’s what we’ll do. We’re going to sneak downstairs. We’ll figure out where he is, then you go out one side of the house and I’ll go out the other. I can see a back door from here.”
“And if he sees us?”
“Whoever he sees has to slow him down long enough for the other one to get away and find help,” she told me. “No matter what it takes. And I’m going to be the one going closest to him.”
“Why?” I asked, startled. “Not that I want any extra risk, but—”
“Because you have a kid,” she said. “All other issues aside, Noah needs you and nobody needs me.”
“Your family, the whole club, they all need you,” I protested.
“You know I’m right,” she said. “Don’t even try to be noble here or something. If only one of us gets out, it’s you. Let’s not fight about it, okay?”
I took a deep breath and then nodded because she was right. Noah was more important than the rest of us put together.
“Okay, but promise me something,” I said. “You need to seriously try to get away. Don’t let yourself get caught or something just because you want to keep Hunter safe.”
She looked back outside, and for a moment I thought she might argue. How much had Hunter f**ked with her head, anyway?
“I’m serious. I’ll start screaming right now and let him know we’ve got that knife if you don’t promise me you’ll do your best to get away.”
“I’ll do my best,” she said. “If we get free, we could always give him time to get back before calling Dad, you know. It’s not like it’s all or nothing. I’m not stupid.”
I kept my mouth shut. If I got away and found a phone, Hunter was toast.
“I suppose there’s no time like the present, hmm?” I asked.
“Might as well go now,” she said. “I’ll keep the knife, unless you know how to use it?”
“You mean to fight?” I asked, startled. She nodded. “Um, no. I didn’t take knife-fighting class in school. You can keep it.”
“Okay, let’s do this thing,” Em said, using a very fine Arnold Schwarzenegger voice. Unfortunately, it was going to take more than a silly voice to make me feel badass. We bumped fists, opened the bedroom door, and started creeping across the floor. I was terrified we’d make it squeak, but fortunately it seemed solid enough. She eased the bedroom door open, and from downstairs I heard the sound of a game playing on the TV.
“I’ll go down the stairs first,” Em whispered. “Then I’ll wave you on. Be ready to go whatever direction I point you, based on where I see him. If I point back at the bedroom, go up and get yourself back into your handcuff, okay? If I wave you on, that’s it. We’ll only get one shot, so don’t f**k it up. I’m counting on you to send help for me if I have to distract him.”
“I can do it,” I told her, hoping it was the truth. “Let’s both get out, though, okay?”
“Oh, one more thing, and this is important,” she said.
“What?”
“If you find a phone, call my dad or Ruger,” she said. “Don’t call the cops.”
I stared at her.
“Are you f**king kidding me?”
“No,” she said, her voice serious. “I’m not kidding at all. This is club business—if we get the cops involved, things will get much worse, and it’ll happen fast, too.”
“No,” I said flatly. “If I get out of here I’m calling nine one one as fast as I can.”
“Then we’re not going,” she replied. My eyes widened.
“Are you serious?”
“Absolutely,” she replied. “You call the cops, Dad or Ruger might wind up in jail before this ends.”
“How do you figure?”
“You think I was joking when I said Dad would kill Hunter?” she asked slowly. “This isn’t a game. I’ll try to convince him not to. I’ll hope to hell it doesn’t happen. But Hunter going to jail for this won’t protect him, and if Dad takes him out, I don’t want to lose him, too.”
“Jesus,” I muttered, shocked. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you won’t call the cops,” she replied. “If you’re in the position to make a call, you’ll already be safe. I have the right to make the decision for myself, though.”
I thought about it for a second.
“Okay,” I whispered. I didn’t like it, but I’d do it.
She nodded, then started down the stairs very slowly. This would be the hardest part, because we needed to pass through the living room to go anywhere else in the house. He was probably in there, because that’s where the TV was. I pictured the layout in my head—he’d be facing away, and I didn’t remember seeing any mirrors on the walls.
Just a little luck and we’d pull it off.
Em looked up at me, lifted a finger to her mouth and then waved me down. I crept from step to step, trying to stay completely silent, while still moving fast enough so that we wouldn’t lose our opportunity. Skid came into view as I reached the bottom of the stairwell. He sat on the couch, back to us, playing some sort of game that involved shooting at things.
Luckily, it also seemed to involve a lot of loud noises and blowing things up.
Em touched my hand and I looked at her. She pointed at her chest, then toward the front door. Then she pointed at me and toward the back of the house. She held up three fingers, then counted down with them, two, one—go.
I slipped past her, walking quickly but silently toward the back of the house. Within seconds I passed out of the living room, through a dining room, and into a kitchen. I found the back door. It was locked, of course, but all I had to do was open the deadbolt. No special security or anything.
They really hadn’t been planning to kidnap us, I realized. Even I knew that when you plan a kidnapping, you prep a place for your prisoners.
So far so good.
I eased the back door open, and then Skid shouted behind me. I heard Em shriek at him and then a loud, crashing noise. I took off out the door, running as fast as I could in a wide circle around the house.
There was a long gravel driveway, and since we’d already been discovered, I followed it, listening for vehicles or gunfire. I didn’t hear anything other than that first loud outburst. My heart pounded and my brain shut down—would Skid really kill Em? I ran hard, adrenaline powering my legs.
Then I heard a gunshot.
Fuck.
RUGER
Hunter had set up the meet in Spirit Lake, but Ruger got a text halfway there sending them to Rathdrum instead. The Devil’s Jack waited for them in a bar that clearly stated “No Colors” outside the door, forcing them to take off their cuts before going inside.
Dick. Balls of brass, though.
They walked in to find him sitting in the back, nursing a beer. Picnic started forward, but Bam Bam caught his arm, pulling him back.
“Don’t,” he said, his voice low. Picnic nodded tightly as Duck took lead instead.
“Your girls are doing just fine,” Hunter said as the men sat down, and Ruger realized he wasn’t nearly as relaxed as he pretended. His eyes were like ice, and he looked almost feral. That wildness made Ruger damned uncomfortable. Man like that might do anything—no predicting his actions. “I’m planning to keep it that way, so long as you do your part. Where are we on that? You got news for me on your boy?”