Page 10 of Reaper

“Reaper,” she pleas. “Really, I’m good.”

Seeing her so scared and vulnerable twists something deep inside me.

“Doc’s gonna check you and Ace out, and that’s final.” My voice is firm, but there’s an undercurrent of concern I can’t mask. Making sure they’re safe and that they’ll stay are the only things I care about. Everything else can wait.

“Fine,” she concedes.

“Fiery one,” Doc says as Lexi and her kid walk away. “She looks familiar. Do I know her?”

“She was a club girl seven years ago. Then she left.”

“Why’s that?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. Anyway, she and her son went flying into a ravine today. They need to be checked out.”

“No problem. You guys know you can call any time.”

“Thanks, Doc.” I slap him on the back beforewe all move into the vacant room.

Ace and Lexi sit on the edge of the bed in the center of the room. Doc unfolds his medical kit with practiced ease, each snap and rustle echoing in the sparse room. I’m like a shadow over Lexi’s shoulder, my presence large and looming. She tries to keep Ace from moving around, but the kid’s squirming, more interested in Doc’s shiny instruments than in sitting still.

“All right, little man, how old are ya?” Doc asks, his voice a gentle rumble.

“Six,” Lexi chimes in quickly, but Ace is having none of it.

“Nu-uh, Momma! I’m seven!” His small hands go to his hips, mimicking a defiance I know all too well.

“Almost, baby. You’re turning seven next month, remember? September twenty-fifth.” Lexi’s correction comes with a soft smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

The kid nods, still puffed up with pride. “I’m just super excited.”

Lexi laughs, but there’s an edge to it.

I’m half-listening, half-lost in calculations that have everything to do with time—a timeline of Lexi’s leaving and Ace’s age. The gears turn as I work out the math. It’s easy to calculate. He was born in 2018, the yearafterleft Lexi me. I exhale a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Relief floods through me—Ace can’t be mine. It’s not possible.

“You’re making me nervous hovering like that.” Lexi’s firm tone interrupts my thoughts. “Can I have some privacy?”

I step back, reluctant as hell and ready to argue, but Scar’s hand lands heavy on my shoulder.

“Need to talk to you, brother. Church.” His voice is low, urgent.

“Fine,” I grind out, casting one last look at Lexi, who’s wincing as Doc probes gently at her back.

As I follow Scar out, I’m flooded with relief. Thank fucking God I’m not a father. But now I’ve got even more questions—like who did she sleep with after me? And why do I want to put my fist through the wall at the thought of her being with another man? I have no right to ask her anything, but I want to know everything about where she’s been the last seven years.

The heavy door to the room where we hold Church shuts with a finality that echoes off the walls. Scar’s at the head of the table, his usual spot. Talon’s seated across from where I slide into a chair. He’s caressing the long wooden table he constructed out of old barn wood. Matrix is beside him, eyeing the large antique clock that sits on the wall, clicking away the seconds. Nitro’s next to me, bouncing away in his chair. I swear that guy can’t sit still.

“Church is in session.” Scar slams a gavel down, but nothing about this feels like a typicalclub meeting. I can feel the weight of everyone’s gaze on me.

“All right, Reaper,” Scar starts, his voice cutting through the silence. “When was the last time you saw Lexi before today?”

“Seven years.” My voice is rough with the truth. “Valentine’s Day was the last time I saw her. She just … vanished.”

“Yeah, I remember that. But why’d she leave?” Matrix leans forward, his dark eyes sharp. “You think she was pissed because you didn’t take her out or something?”

I can feel the skepticism in their stares. It’s not lost on me how it sounds. Lexi was never the kind to expect chocolates and roses. But then again, maybe I never really knew her at all.

“Nah,” I say, trying to sound more convinced than I feel. “She was a club girl. Nothing more. We didn’t do dates.”

---