Page 17 of Reaper

I push open the door to the office. A bell above the door rings sharply, startling me. The elderly clerk sitting behind the desk barely glances up from his magazine, a bored expression on his face. I’m sure he’s seen it all before. I’m just another weary traveler too tired to find better accommodations.

“Room for one night,” I say, keeping my voice steady.

“Need a credit card or cash, and an ID,” he says.

My hands tremble when I hand over my credit card, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Room 107. End of the hall,” the clerk grunts, handing me back my card along with a key.

I nod, too exhausted for words, and head to the room with Ace still cradled in my arms.

One foot in front of the other, Lexi. You’ve got this.

I twist the key in the lock, and the door to the motel room swings open. The scent of lemon cleaner hits me, a stark contrast to the musty hallway. Inside, the space is surprisingly clean, almost clinical with its beige walls and nondescript art.

I set Ace down on one of the queen-sized beds. His eyes flutter shut before his head sinks into the pillow. His little fingers tighten around his teddy bear, clinging to it like a lifeline. As he drifts off to sleep, I let out a soft sigh. I never expected any of this to happen. Ace shouldn’t have to suffer because of my past.

I pace the short length of the carpet, my mind racing. A call for help would be a godsend right now, but who can I call? My family? I burned that bridge the day I called out Nathan, my mother’s new husband, for being a creep. His disturbing glances and inappropriate comments about my sixteen-year-old body had finally gone too far.

Of course, my mother refused to believe me when I finally told her. She either couldn’t, or wouldn’t, acknowledge the predatory glint in his eye. She ignored the way he would hug or touch me for far too long. But I felt it, that creeping sensation of prey under scrutiny. No one took me seriously because Nathan hadn’t made his move—yet. I knew it was only a matter of time.Leaving at sixteen, I’d had to lie about my age, adding two years just to find work at bars. It was either that or wait for the inevitable.

Shaking my head, I try to clear away the memories, but they cling like cobwebs. Friends are not an option either. When that second line turned pink and I realized Ace was on his way, I severed ties with everyone who knew me as the girl who laughed a little too loud and drank a little too much. I was a wild child, always ready for a thrill and oblivious to danger. I didn’t bat an eyelid when I found myself in the company of men who wore danger as comfortably as their leather cuts. I thought their darkness would never touch me. Well, it did.

I quit everything cold turkey. The cigarettes. The booze. The late nights. Standing here, in this washed-out room, I realize I’m a stranger to the girl who used to crave chaos. For Ace, I have to be someone else. I’m trying to carve out something good from the mess I made, something stable. But what does a good life look like? How do you rebuild a life from scratch? I thought I was on the right track, at least until Blackstone kicked me out. Jerk.

My gaze wanders back to Ace. He’s the answer, isn’t he? I’ll know what’s right and what’s wrong if I keep him at the forefront of my mind. Anything that will give him a better shot at life is good. Anything that could take that away from him isn’t. I just need to figure outwhat’s what and go from there.

But as night settles in, wrapping the motel in shadows, doubt creeps in along with the cool air through the thin walls. I tell myself we’ll make it, but fear gnaws at my resolve. What comes next? Where do we go from here?

“Tomorrow,” I whisper, more a promise than a plan. “Tomorrow, we start fresh.”

The neon sign of the motel flickers through the thin curtains, casting a dim glow on the peeling wallpaper. My hands tremble as I perch on the edge of the bed. The sound of Ace’s steady breath is my only comfort.

I can’t stop thinking about Reaper. Did he make it out alive? The memory of gunshots splinters through my thoughts, and a knot tightens in my stomach. I should’ve said something to him, at least goodbye, but there was no time amid the chaos. Guilt gnaws at me, uninvited and persistent. Reaper’s been nothing but protective since the accident, and here I am, using the very danger he defends us against as my ticket out. He’s probably still out there, risking his life, and all I can do is hope he survives.

Sliding off the bed, I pace the cramped room. Why was that rival club targeting Reaper’s club tonight? Could Reaper be right? Could those men have been coming for me? Reaper floated the idea that Blackstone sent someone to run me off the road. Was Reaper onto something?Yesterday, I would have thought it was a ludicrous idea. Now, it’s terrifyingly plausible. If Blackstone is behind this, what would drive him to such extremes?

My phone feels like a brick in my hand as I unlock it. The screen lights up, casting shadows through the darkness in the room. I access my bank app and groan. The numbers glaring back at me are a stark reminder of how little I have to offer my son. A few hundred dollars is all that stands between us and desperation.

I set my phone down and pick up my wallet. Riffling through it, I count the crumpled bills one by one. Twenty-five dollars. It’s not even enough to cover another night here, let alone get us to safety. A sour taste rises in my throat. We’re teetering on the edge of being out of options. With no family to turn to and no friends to call upon, it’s just my boy and me against the world. And somehow, I have to find a way to survive.

I glance toward the bathroom. In the past, whenever I’ve been stuck while trying to figure something out, I’ve taken a shower. Somehow it helps me think more clearly. Also, I’d love to wash away the grime from the accident along with the fear and desperation that clings to me. For just a moment, I entertain the idea of taking a hot shower to help soothe my frayed nerves.

But before I can shed my clothes, a creaking sound catches my attention. The doorknob rattles slightly. I drop my gaze to the lightcoming through a crack under the door. The stream of light is disrupted in two spots as if someone’s standing outside. Then it hits me, someone is trying to break in.

“Mommy?” Ace’s voice trembles from the bed where he clutches his teddy bear to his chest.

“Shh, baby, we gotta be quiet now,” I whisper. Crossing the room, I scoop him up. The weight of his small body is both a burden to my exhausted body and a reminder of what’s at stake.

I hurry into the bathroom. The cramped space reeks of bleach and false security. Frantic, I shove at the window screen, feeling it give way beneath my fingers. Cool night air rushes in, carrying with it the scent of pine trees and freedom.

“You have to climb out, baby.” My hands shake as I lift Ace, pushing him out into the unknown. “Run to the trees and hide. Don’t come out, no matter what you hear.”

“Mommy?” His eyes, wide pools of innocence, search mine for reassurance.

“Go, Ace. I love you.” It’s a command wrapped in a plea. He nods, scrambling through the opening, while still clinging to that damn teddy bear.

Behind me, the sound of a window breaking and wood splintering sends a fresh wave of terror through me. I pull myself up through the window. I’m half-out, one leg dangling into theabyss, when the bathroom door explodes inward. As I glance back, a hulking shadow fills the doorway. The stench of sweat and malice floods the room. Whoever tried to kill me on the road sent someone else to finish the job.

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