Reaper's Legacy
Page 7
“What’s up?” he asked.
“I forgot clean clothes,” I told him, considering my strategy. “You mind stepping outside for a sec? I’ll get dressed fast.”
“You gonna give me crap about coming to Coeur d’Alene?” he asked, raising a brow in challenge. Great. I’d gotten over my snit, but clearly he hadn’t.
“No.”
“You wanna bitch me out for what happened next door?”
“No.”
“That’s a fast turnaround.”
“I don’t have a lot of choice,” I admitted, forcing myself not to grit my teeth. “It’s not what I’d pick, but it’s better than staying here. And you win—I didn’t want to do my own dirty work. I’m glad you did it for me. Happy?”
“You say that like it hurts.”
It did hurt. The man was like a cheese grater on my skin.
“Just let me grab something to wear, Ruger. You won. Don’t rub it in.”
He laughed, the sound harsh.
“Glad you figured that out,” he said. “Life’s easier when you have help, like it or not. I’ll dig something out for you. Suitcase?”
“That’s okay—” I started, but he’d already turned and grabbed the bag, flopping it on the now-naked bed to unzip it. I swallowed as he began digging around. Not that I had anything to hide, but I didn’t like him touching my things. Way too intimate.
“Nice,” Ruger said, turning back toward me, dangling a black, lacy push-up bra from one finger. The side of his mouth twitched and those dark eyes warmed. “You should wear this one.”
“Put it down, Ruger,” I told him. “Just go outside. I’ll find what I need.”
“I like these ones, too,” he said, pulling out a pair of turquoise panties. “They’d go good with the garter belt.”
I bit back a groan. I might have a thing for pretty underwear, but I didn’t need his input. Jerk. I checked my towel, making sure it was securely tucked in. Then I walked out of the bathroom, determined to get his hands off my panties.
“Just put them down,” I repeated as I moved across the floor. He turned toward me, eyes sweeping over my figure and pausing on my br**sts. I felt exposed and uncomfortable, which was silly. The towel covered more than most swimsuits. He had a hungry gleam in his eye, though—one I refused to take as a compliment. We’d already established that Ruger found me attractive on a basic, biological level.
Problem was, Ruger found every woman attractive on a basic, biological level.
I really didn’t like this new dynamic between us. Things were more comfortable when Ruger treated me like a piece of unwanted furniture.
“But I like them,” he said, examining the soft fabric with a smirk. I grabbed for the panties but he held them out of my reach.
“I just got done convincing myself I’ve been unfair to you,” I told him, narrowing my eyes. “Don’t ruin it.”
Ruger didn’t say anything for several seconds. Then he stretched the panties between his hands like a rubber band and shot them at my face. I lurched to grab the silky blue missile. That’s when the towel slipped and I flashed enough of myself to earn a damned fine collection of Mardi Gras beads.
“Nice rack,” Ruger told me. “Checked out the rest of you before, but never those. Usually the other way around, now that I think of it. Tits before—”
“Jesus, you’re a pig,” I said, cutting him off as I jerked up the towel.
“I’ll concede the point,” he said, shrugging and stepping away from the suitcase. “But only if you wear that black bra. I liked the girls. They deserve something nice.”
“Asshole,” I muttered, pissy mood back in full force.
I dug through my bag, pulling out a pair of ratty cutoffs. Then I spotted the super tight, super low-cut “Barbie Is a Slut” tank top my friend Carrie got me two years ago for Halloween, when we stayed with her folks in Olympia. We’d taken Noah out trick-or-treating wearing friendly witch costumes early in the evening. Then we tucked him safely in bed at her mom’s place and took ourselves out trick-or-drinking. I made out with three different guys at three different parties … using three different names. We finished by eating our weight in chocolate chip pancakes at IHOP as the sun rose.
Best. Night. Ever.
I pulled the tank out with a smile. Ruger wanted to treat me like one of his sluts? I could go there. I’d let him perv on my boobs. All day. Publicly. Maybe I’d flirt a little, too, but not with him. Nope, he could just suck it while I flashed the world. That would teach him to play with my panties.
I hoped his balls turned so blue they froze.
I ignored him as I took the shorts, tank, bra, and panties back to the bathroom and got dressed. I dried my hair and put on full war paint. Then I stepped out to find Horse and Noah were back.
“Hey, Mom—Horse has a dog named Ariel. Can we get a dog, too?” Noah asked the instant he saw me.
“I don’t think so,” I replied. “A dog’s a lot of work. We should start smaller. Maybe a hamster. Let’s ask Uncle Ruger if that’s okay or if he thinks it’s too much.”
I smiled at Ruger, whose eyes were glued to my chest. I adjusted my tank, pulling it down just enough to expose the top of the bra he’d requested.
He wanted to break our rules and bully me?
No problem. I was a big girl now, and I could fight back.
“So what do you think, Uncle Ruger?” I asked sweetly. “Is it too much?”
CHAPTER THREE
Despite his earlier breakfast, Noah had no trouble polishing off a full plate of pancakes, two slices of bacon, and a glass of orange juice.
Another growth spurt coming, I realized. That sucked. Seemed like I’d just bought him new clothes a month ago. Every time I caught up, the kid got bigger.
“You done?” I asked him, leaning back in the booth. We’d finished packing an hour ago, at which point Ruger and Horse kicked us out. Apparently we were getting in their way. Ruger handed me two twenties and told me to take Noah out for breakfast down the street, which made sense, given the long car ride ahead of us. I didn’t like taking his money but I had to be practical. I couldn’t afford to waste cash on something as frivolous as eating out.
“Done,” Noah said, grinning at me. God, he was beautiful. His face still held a hint of the softness he’d been born with, but his legs and arms were getting lanky. He liked his hair on the long side, so it hung shaggy around his face and shoulders. Not quite long enough for a ponytail, but close. People told me I should cut it. I figured it should be his choice. When he was older he’d learn all about peer pressure and fitting in. For now I wanted him to enjoy the blissful freedom that comes from not giving a rat’s ass about the world’s opinions.
His skin was light, with a smattering of freckles across his nose and face. Sometimes I caught glimpses of myself or Zach in him, but not often. Noah was his own person, no question of that.
Kind of took after Ruger that way, I mused.
“Okay, let’s go,” I said, dropping some money on the table. I tipped the waitress nearly fifty percent—she seemed overworked, and I knew how that felt. Also, it wasn’t my money.
I texted Ruger as I left, wondering if we’d killed enough time. He replied, telling me to give him another thirty minutes. We didn’t have a park right by our apartment, but there was a lot about three blocks away that Noah liked running around in. I’d heard it used to be a hangout for dealers and users, but a few years back yuppies had started moving into the neighborhood. Now about half of it was a community garden, and the rest was for the kids. Someone had built a wooden swing set. Murals on the sides of the buildings bordering the lot kept the place looking cheerful and bright.
It took us about ten minutes to reach the park, and Noah made the most of his time there. I ran laps with him around the edges, hoping to tire him out. It didn’t work, of course. Then we headed back, popping into a used bookstore on the way to pick out something special for the car ride.
We found Horse, Ruger, and two guys I didn’t recognize on the sidewalk outside the building. The newcomers wore leather vests that read “Devil’s Jacks” across the back. Below that was a picture of a red devil and the word “Nomad.” They were both tall guys, one bulky in a muscular way and the other long and lean in his strength. Both had dark hair. One raised his chin in silent greeting.
The men clearly appreciated my Barbie tank top. They were both attractive, but the tall one was actually almost pretty, he was so cute. He had floppy brown hair and hadn’t shaved in a couple of days. He wore a battered Flogging Molly T-shirt with his faded jeans and leather boots. Both of them looked about my age.
“Hey,” I said, coming up to them, smiling. “You must be Ruger’s friends? Nice to meet you. I’m Sophie. This is my boy, Noah.”
Ruger’s eyes narrowed.
“Go wait in the car,” he said, tossing me his keys.
“Those aren’t my keys. Introduce me to your friends.”
“They’re my keys. Blue rig, right over there,” he told me, nodding toward a large SUV across the street. “Car. Now. Horse is gonna drive yours back to Coeur d’Alene.”
I opened my mouth to argue, just on general principle. Then I caught Horse’s eyes, which held a silent warning. He glanced toward Noah, then toward the strangers. That’s when I finally caught the tension in the air—their body language was far from friendly.
Oops. This wasn’t a happy visit.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, taking Noah’s hand. I dragged him across the street and climbed into the big SUV waiting for us. Ruger had already installed a booster seat in the back. Noah’s backpack sat next to it. I leaned over and stuck the keys in the ignition, then switched on the AC.
Ten minutes later, Ruger came over and climbed into the driver’s seat.
“You buckled in, little man?” he asked as he popped the SUV into reverse.
“Uh-huh,” Noah replied. “Thanks for grabbing my backpack. I’m excited to see your house. Do you have Skylanders?”
“Got no idea what a Skylander is, kid,” he replied. “But I’m sure we can get some.”
“Ruger—” I started, but he cut me off.
“Jesus, Sophie,” he said, glaring at me. “Now I can’t buy the kid a present? Shit, he’s had a rough night. If I wanna buy him something, I will.”
“Actually, I was going to ask if I could take him upstairs to the bathroom before we leave,” I replied, smiling sweetly. “He drank a big glass of juice at breakfast. We aren’t going to get far without a pit stop.”
Ruger’s glare faded.
“That’s totally reasonable.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m a reasonable person.”
“We’ll stop at a restaurant or something,” he said, pulling out. “I don’t want you going back upstairs. Hunter and Skid are up there now.”
“Hunter and Skid?” I asked. “Those the guys you were talking to on the sidewalk? Things seemed a little tense. What was that all about?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Club business. I’ll pull off when I see a good place to stop.”
Predictably, Noah started begging for a kid’s meal when we stopped at a fast-food place, especially when he saw they were Skylander-themed. He couldn’t possibly be hungry, but Ruger ordered two of the overpriced little boxes.
“That’s ridiculous,” I told him as he carried them back to the car. “The food will go to waste. Noah is stuffed. Not to mention he already ate out earlier. He doesn’t need unhealthy junk like that.”
“They’re for me,” Ruger replied. “He can have the toys, I’ll take the food. I’m starving.”
As we pulled out and onto the freeway, Noah started telling Ruger all about the Skylanders. By now he was totally wired and it was a damned good thing he was belted in—otherwise he might have jumped around until we crashed the car. He talked Skylanders as we cleared the city. He talked Skylanders as we passed North Bend. He talked Skylanders as we started up Snoqualmie Pass.
Poor Ruger. He had no idea how much conversational stamina Noah had …
“I’m taking a nap,” I said, raising my arms and stretching, chest thrust out. I saw Ruger’s eyes flick toward me, and they weren’t looking at my face. Good. I wanted his balls so blue they stayed that way, because maybe that would teach him a lesson about changing the rules of our relationship without warning. I still had a crush on him, but he wasn’t crushing on me at all.
Nope.
Ruger was just horny.
“Sure,” he grunted. Noah rattled on in the background as I leaned my seat back and closed my eyes.
I woke slowly, feeling myself in motion and trying to remember where I was. I heard Noah talking and it came back to me. Ruger. Coeur d’Alene. Packing. Miranda.
“Then the Skylanders realized they needed the Giants if they wanted to defeat Kaos,” Noah said to Ruger, his voice earnest.
“You still talking about Skylanders?” I asked sleepily, turning to look at Noah. He was all smiles, clearly excited to have a captive audience.
“Yup. Still talkin’ about Skylanders,” Ruger said, his voice strained and his expression dark. I bit back a laugh. “Been talkin’ about Skylanders nonstop. I think we ran out of new material a while ago, because now he’s tellin’ me the same shit over again. We’re almost to Ellensburg. I want to pull off and buy one of those little DVD players for him to hold on his lap, and some headphones. We got almost three and half more hours. This might kill me.”
“I forgot clean clothes,” I told him, considering my strategy. “You mind stepping outside for a sec? I’ll get dressed fast.”
“You gonna give me crap about coming to Coeur d’Alene?” he asked, raising a brow in challenge. Great. I’d gotten over my snit, but clearly he hadn’t.
“No.”
“You wanna bitch me out for what happened next door?”
“No.”
“That’s a fast turnaround.”
“I don’t have a lot of choice,” I admitted, forcing myself not to grit my teeth. “It’s not what I’d pick, but it’s better than staying here. And you win—I didn’t want to do my own dirty work. I’m glad you did it for me. Happy?”
“You say that like it hurts.”
It did hurt. The man was like a cheese grater on my skin.
“Just let me grab something to wear, Ruger. You won. Don’t rub it in.”
He laughed, the sound harsh.
“Glad you figured that out,” he said. “Life’s easier when you have help, like it or not. I’ll dig something out for you. Suitcase?”
“That’s okay—” I started, but he’d already turned and grabbed the bag, flopping it on the now-naked bed to unzip it. I swallowed as he began digging around. Not that I had anything to hide, but I didn’t like him touching my things. Way too intimate.
“Nice,” Ruger said, turning back toward me, dangling a black, lacy push-up bra from one finger. The side of his mouth twitched and those dark eyes warmed. “You should wear this one.”
“Put it down, Ruger,” I told him. “Just go outside. I’ll find what I need.”
“I like these ones, too,” he said, pulling out a pair of turquoise panties. “They’d go good with the garter belt.”
I bit back a groan. I might have a thing for pretty underwear, but I didn’t need his input. Jerk. I checked my towel, making sure it was securely tucked in. Then I walked out of the bathroom, determined to get his hands off my panties.
“Just put them down,” I repeated as I moved across the floor. He turned toward me, eyes sweeping over my figure and pausing on my br**sts. I felt exposed and uncomfortable, which was silly. The towel covered more than most swimsuits. He had a hungry gleam in his eye, though—one I refused to take as a compliment. We’d already established that Ruger found me attractive on a basic, biological level.
Problem was, Ruger found every woman attractive on a basic, biological level.
I really didn’t like this new dynamic between us. Things were more comfortable when Ruger treated me like a piece of unwanted furniture.
“But I like them,” he said, examining the soft fabric with a smirk. I grabbed for the panties but he held them out of my reach.
“I just got done convincing myself I’ve been unfair to you,” I told him, narrowing my eyes. “Don’t ruin it.”
Ruger didn’t say anything for several seconds. Then he stretched the panties between his hands like a rubber band and shot them at my face. I lurched to grab the silky blue missile. That’s when the towel slipped and I flashed enough of myself to earn a damned fine collection of Mardi Gras beads.
“Nice rack,” Ruger told me. “Checked out the rest of you before, but never those. Usually the other way around, now that I think of it. Tits before—”
“Jesus, you’re a pig,” I said, cutting him off as I jerked up the towel.
“I’ll concede the point,” he said, shrugging and stepping away from the suitcase. “But only if you wear that black bra. I liked the girls. They deserve something nice.”
“Asshole,” I muttered, pissy mood back in full force.
I dug through my bag, pulling out a pair of ratty cutoffs. Then I spotted the super tight, super low-cut “Barbie Is a Slut” tank top my friend Carrie got me two years ago for Halloween, when we stayed with her folks in Olympia. We’d taken Noah out trick-or-treating wearing friendly witch costumes early in the evening. Then we tucked him safely in bed at her mom’s place and took ourselves out trick-or-drinking. I made out with three different guys at three different parties … using three different names. We finished by eating our weight in chocolate chip pancakes at IHOP as the sun rose.
Best. Night. Ever.
I pulled the tank out with a smile. Ruger wanted to treat me like one of his sluts? I could go there. I’d let him perv on my boobs. All day. Publicly. Maybe I’d flirt a little, too, but not with him. Nope, he could just suck it while I flashed the world. That would teach him to play with my panties.
I hoped his balls turned so blue they froze.
I ignored him as I took the shorts, tank, bra, and panties back to the bathroom and got dressed. I dried my hair and put on full war paint. Then I stepped out to find Horse and Noah were back.
“Hey, Mom—Horse has a dog named Ariel. Can we get a dog, too?” Noah asked the instant he saw me.
“I don’t think so,” I replied. “A dog’s a lot of work. We should start smaller. Maybe a hamster. Let’s ask Uncle Ruger if that’s okay or if he thinks it’s too much.”
I smiled at Ruger, whose eyes were glued to my chest. I adjusted my tank, pulling it down just enough to expose the top of the bra he’d requested.
He wanted to break our rules and bully me?
No problem. I was a big girl now, and I could fight back.
“So what do you think, Uncle Ruger?” I asked sweetly. “Is it too much?”
CHAPTER THREE
Despite his earlier breakfast, Noah had no trouble polishing off a full plate of pancakes, two slices of bacon, and a glass of orange juice.
Another growth spurt coming, I realized. That sucked. Seemed like I’d just bought him new clothes a month ago. Every time I caught up, the kid got bigger.
“You done?” I asked him, leaning back in the booth. We’d finished packing an hour ago, at which point Ruger and Horse kicked us out. Apparently we were getting in their way. Ruger handed me two twenties and told me to take Noah out for breakfast down the street, which made sense, given the long car ride ahead of us. I didn’t like taking his money but I had to be practical. I couldn’t afford to waste cash on something as frivolous as eating out.
“Done,” Noah said, grinning at me. God, he was beautiful. His face still held a hint of the softness he’d been born with, but his legs and arms were getting lanky. He liked his hair on the long side, so it hung shaggy around his face and shoulders. Not quite long enough for a ponytail, but close. People told me I should cut it. I figured it should be his choice. When he was older he’d learn all about peer pressure and fitting in. For now I wanted him to enjoy the blissful freedom that comes from not giving a rat’s ass about the world’s opinions.
His skin was light, with a smattering of freckles across his nose and face. Sometimes I caught glimpses of myself or Zach in him, but not often. Noah was his own person, no question of that.
Kind of took after Ruger that way, I mused.
“Okay, let’s go,” I said, dropping some money on the table. I tipped the waitress nearly fifty percent—she seemed overworked, and I knew how that felt. Also, it wasn’t my money.
I texted Ruger as I left, wondering if we’d killed enough time. He replied, telling me to give him another thirty minutes. We didn’t have a park right by our apartment, but there was a lot about three blocks away that Noah liked running around in. I’d heard it used to be a hangout for dealers and users, but a few years back yuppies had started moving into the neighborhood. Now about half of it was a community garden, and the rest was for the kids. Someone had built a wooden swing set. Murals on the sides of the buildings bordering the lot kept the place looking cheerful and bright.
It took us about ten minutes to reach the park, and Noah made the most of his time there. I ran laps with him around the edges, hoping to tire him out. It didn’t work, of course. Then we headed back, popping into a used bookstore on the way to pick out something special for the car ride.
We found Horse, Ruger, and two guys I didn’t recognize on the sidewalk outside the building. The newcomers wore leather vests that read “Devil’s Jacks” across the back. Below that was a picture of a red devil and the word “Nomad.” They were both tall guys, one bulky in a muscular way and the other long and lean in his strength. Both had dark hair. One raised his chin in silent greeting.
The men clearly appreciated my Barbie tank top. They were both attractive, but the tall one was actually almost pretty, he was so cute. He had floppy brown hair and hadn’t shaved in a couple of days. He wore a battered Flogging Molly T-shirt with his faded jeans and leather boots. Both of them looked about my age.
“Hey,” I said, coming up to them, smiling. “You must be Ruger’s friends? Nice to meet you. I’m Sophie. This is my boy, Noah.”
Ruger’s eyes narrowed.
“Go wait in the car,” he said, tossing me his keys.
“Those aren’t my keys. Introduce me to your friends.”
“They’re my keys. Blue rig, right over there,” he told me, nodding toward a large SUV across the street. “Car. Now. Horse is gonna drive yours back to Coeur d’Alene.”
I opened my mouth to argue, just on general principle. Then I caught Horse’s eyes, which held a silent warning. He glanced toward Noah, then toward the strangers. That’s when I finally caught the tension in the air—their body language was far from friendly.
Oops. This wasn’t a happy visit.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, taking Noah’s hand. I dragged him across the street and climbed into the big SUV waiting for us. Ruger had already installed a booster seat in the back. Noah’s backpack sat next to it. I leaned over and stuck the keys in the ignition, then switched on the AC.
Ten minutes later, Ruger came over and climbed into the driver’s seat.
“You buckled in, little man?” he asked as he popped the SUV into reverse.
“Uh-huh,” Noah replied. “Thanks for grabbing my backpack. I’m excited to see your house. Do you have Skylanders?”
“Got no idea what a Skylander is, kid,” he replied. “But I’m sure we can get some.”
“Ruger—” I started, but he cut me off.
“Jesus, Sophie,” he said, glaring at me. “Now I can’t buy the kid a present? Shit, he’s had a rough night. If I wanna buy him something, I will.”
“Actually, I was going to ask if I could take him upstairs to the bathroom before we leave,” I replied, smiling sweetly. “He drank a big glass of juice at breakfast. We aren’t going to get far without a pit stop.”
Ruger’s glare faded.
“That’s totally reasonable.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m a reasonable person.”
“We’ll stop at a restaurant or something,” he said, pulling out. “I don’t want you going back upstairs. Hunter and Skid are up there now.”
“Hunter and Skid?” I asked. “Those the guys you were talking to on the sidewalk? Things seemed a little tense. What was that all about?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Club business. I’ll pull off when I see a good place to stop.”
Predictably, Noah started begging for a kid’s meal when we stopped at a fast-food place, especially when he saw they were Skylander-themed. He couldn’t possibly be hungry, but Ruger ordered two of the overpriced little boxes.
“That’s ridiculous,” I told him as he carried them back to the car. “The food will go to waste. Noah is stuffed. Not to mention he already ate out earlier. He doesn’t need unhealthy junk like that.”
“They’re for me,” Ruger replied. “He can have the toys, I’ll take the food. I’m starving.”
As we pulled out and onto the freeway, Noah started telling Ruger all about the Skylanders. By now he was totally wired and it was a damned good thing he was belted in—otherwise he might have jumped around until we crashed the car. He talked Skylanders as we cleared the city. He talked Skylanders as we passed North Bend. He talked Skylanders as we started up Snoqualmie Pass.
Poor Ruger. He had no idea how much conversational stamina Noah had …
“I’m taking a nap,” I said, raising my arms and stretching, chest thrust out. I saw Ruger’s eyes flick toward me, and they weren’t looking at my face. Good. I wanted his balls so blue they stayed that way, because maybe that would teach him a lesson about changing the rules of our relationship without warning. I still had a crush on him, but he wasn’t crushing on me at all.
Nope.
Ruger was just horny.
“Sure,” he grunted. Noah rattled on in the background as I leaned my seat back and closed my eyes.
I woke slowly, feeling myself in motion and trying to remember where I was. I heard Noah talking and it came back to me. Ruger. Coeur d’Alene. Packing. Miranda.
“Then the Skylanders realized they needed the Giants if they wanted to defeat Kaos,” Noah said to Ruger, his voice earnest.
“You still talking about Skylanders?” I asked sleepily, turning to look at Noah. He was all smiles, clearly excited to have a captive audience.
“Yup. Still talkin’ about Skylanders,” Ruger said, his voice strained and his expression dark. I bit back a laugh. “Been talkin’ about Skylanders nonstop. I think we ran out of new material a while ago, because now he’s tellin’ me the same shit over again. We’re almost to Ellensburg. I want to pull off and buy one of those little DVD players for him to hold on his lap, and some headphones. We got almost three and half more hours. This might kill me.”
