Page 25 of Ripper's Redemption

I roll my eyes, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“That’s what you love the most about me,” she quips back, grinning.

“Yeah, yeah,” I reply, rolling my eyes again.

But her teasing has eased some of the tension in my chest, and for that, I’m grateful.

“Come on, l say we finish whipping this all up before the next rush and grab a coffee ourselves.” Kelsey suggests. “We deserve it after dealing with all the craziness this morning.”

I smirk, grabbing some fresh muffins and placing them on the display. “Sounds like a plan.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Ripper

The club is alive tonight. It’s been a lot more active since Bama got released from the hospital.

The air hums with the low thrum of rock music while the scent of weed and stale cigarettes wafts around. No one smokes in the club because the kids come in here, but we all know how bad it can stick to your clothes.

I weave through the crowd, nodding to familiar faces, my eyes scanning the room. And then I see her—Tara.

She’s in one of the booths, deep in conversation with Gears.

Her laugh cuts through the noise, a bright, happy sound that makes my chest tighten.

She’s got that sparkle in her sage green eyes that says she’s up to something.

Her medium-brown hair catches the dim light, blonde highlights glinting like gold threads.

Gears leans back, arms crossed, his face softening as he listens to her.

It’s rare to see him this relaxed.

Usually, he’s all business, but Tara has a way of disarming people.

She notices me standing there, and her face lights up in a smile.

I notice Gears slide a small, black bag across the table toward Tara.

Her eyes light up as she accepts it, her fingers brushing against his in a moment of unexpected tenderness.

“Thanks, Dad,” she says, her voice soft but filled with genuine appreciation.

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” Gears replies, and there’s an unspoken weight in his words, like he’s trying to make up for lost time.

“Hey, Gears!” Blackjack’s gruff voice cuts through the air, drawing our attention. “Need you over here.”

Gears nods, standing up from the booth.

He glances at me briefly, and I don’t mistake the frustration in his eyes.

He doesn’t like that Tara and I are ‘together’ at all, which just proves we’re pulling this whole thing off.

I take the opportunity and slide into the spot where he was sitting, the leather still warm from his presence.

“What’s in the bag?” I ask, my curiosity piqued as I settle into the booth.

“Just some stuff for the trip,” Tara replies, her fingers nervously playing with the zipper. She looks up at me, those sage green eyes searching mine for something—approval, maybe? “Nothing special.”

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