Free Reaper's Legacy by Joanna Wylde

you and Horse did earlier. I don’t care that it was a crime. But that’s where I stop, Ruger. I don’t want to get involved in any more illegal things. I won’t be your drug runner or something.”
    Ruger burst out laughing.
    “Jesus, Sophie,” he said. “What the hell do you think I do all day? Fuck, my life’s not even close to that interesting.”
    I had no idea what to say.
    “I’m a gunsmith and security expert,” he continued, shaking his head. “This should not be a surprise to you, seein’ as I’ve wired up your apartments over and over. I spend most of my time repairing firearms in a perfectly legal shop the club runs. I design and install custom security systems on the side, ’cause I get off on that shit. Lotta rich fuckers with summer homes on the lake. All of ’em need security and I’m more’n happy to take their money.”
    “Wait—they let a motorcycle gang run a gun shop?” I asked, startled. “I didn’t know that part. I’ll bet the cops love that.”
    “First, we’re a club, not a gang,” he said. “And the store is technically owned by one guy. Slide. Been a brother for fifteen years. But we all pitch in and it’s a group effort. Having him hold the deed makes the paperwork easier, given the type of business. I apprenticed with him.”
    “So this gun shop is one hundred percent above the table?” I asked skeptically. “And people actually pay you to install their security. Aren’t they afraid you’ll be the one breaking in?”
    “I’m damned good at what I do,” he replied, smiling. “Not exactly forcing ’em to hire me. You want to see the gun shop, come check it out. Check out any of the businesses.”
    “You have more than one?”
    “Got a strip club, a pawnshop, and a garage,” he said. “Lot of the guys work in those, but we got civilian employees, too.”
    “And what do you see me doing, if I worked for the Reapers?” I asked, considering the strip club.
    “I don’t know what we need,” he said, shrugging. “Not even sure there’s an opening. We’ll have to check and see. But it’d be good for you. Got health care plans and shit.”
    “So you guys don’t do anything illegal? It’s all legitimate?”
    “You think I’d tell you if we were doing something illegal?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.
    “Um, no?”
    He laughed.
    “Exactly. So it doesn’t really matter what I tell you anyway, because you wouldn’t believe it. Club business is for club members. Seeing as you’re not a member, it’s not your problem. All you need to know is I’m trying to help you here. If there’s a job you’re qualified for, it’ll be yours. If not, no big deal.”
    “Ruger, don’t take this personally, but I don’t want to work for your club at all, even if there’s an opening,” I replied. “You know I’ve never wanted anything to do with the Reapers. You and Horse helped me and I appreciate it, but nothing’s changed. I don’t agree with your lifestyle. I don’t want Noah around your friends, either. I don’t think it’s a good environment for a child.”
    “You’ve never even met them. Kinda judgmental, don’t you think?”
    “Maybe,” I said, looking away. “But I’m going to do the best I can for Noah, and hanging out with a bunch of criminals isn’t part of that. I don’t believe for a minute that there isn’t something shady going on with you guys.”
    Ruger’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. Great. Now I’d insulted him.
    “Considering your folks haven’t talked to you in seven years,your son’s father needs a restraining order, and you can’t hold down a job or provide for your child, seems to me like you aren’t in a position to be calling us anything,” he told me, voice tight. Friendly Ruger was gone. “Lotta things happen at the clubhouse. Some of those things run deep, no question. Might scare you. But I’ll tell you one thing. When one of our own is in trouble, we don’t kick ’em out in the