Page 21 of Reaper

I grab Ace and make a dash for them, hoping for salvation.

“Reaper!” I yell over the roar of bikes.

“Lexi! Get down!” Reaper’s voice cuts through the chaos, sharp as a blade.

Instinctively, I yank Ace toward the ground just as the crack of a gunshot splits the air. Ace’s teddy bear goes soaring like some sad, fluffy projectile, and we hit the asphalt hard. Pain jars my elbow, but it’s nothing compared to the terror of keeping Ace safe. I curl around him, sheltering him with my body, while the world explodes into violence.

“Stay still,” I mutter into Ace’s hair. He clings to me as terror fills his eyes. The sight fractures my soul.

Gunfire erupts, bullets singing past us, chipping the concrete. I catch a glimpse of Reaper moving with lethal grace as he engages the men who dared to threaten us. I never thought I’d find comfort during a gunfight, but there’s something fiercely protective about the way Reaper stands between us and hell.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” I lie to Ace and to myself. Because now that Reaper’s fighting for us, there will be consequences. After this, I’m going to owe him my life, and I’ll also owe him for saving Ace.

Bullets ricochet off the gritty pavement, a deadly rain of lead that dances too close. Reaper’sa dark avenger against the neon lights. His movements are precise and terrifying. Each shot he fires hits its mark.

“Reaper!” Scar shouts, his voice barely audible over the clamor.

I press my cheek to Ace’s head, whispering promises I’m not sure I can keep. His small body trembles beneath mine, quivering with each gunshot that punctuates the night air. My heart races, a frantic drumbeat in my chest as I watch through narrowed eyes. Scar and Nitro flank Reaper like guardian demons, their own guns blazing in ruthless harmony.

Talon and Matrix’s shadows flicker between the motorcycles. Their presence is an unspoken threat that keeps the Demon Riders at bay. I can’t see it all, but I hear the fear in our enemies’ shouts, and feel the desperation in their retaliatory fire.

And then, with a final resonating boom, silence crashes down around us. The gunfire ceases, but my ears keep ringing. I dare to lift my head, searching for the source of the quiet.

Reaper stands alone now, the smoke from his gun a ghostly wisp in the cool air. One of the Demon Riders lies motionless, a testament to Reaper’s deadly aim, while the others have vanished into the night. Scar, Nitro, Talon, and Matrix regroup, their stances wary but victorious.

“Lexi! Ace!” Reaper’s boots pound theground as he rushes over, concern etching deep lines across his weathered face.

“Here,” I say, my voice rough with dust and fear.

Ace pushes away from me, his eyes darting frantically around the desolate parking lot. “Mr. Snuffles!” he cries out, his voice high-pitched with distress.

“Shit,” I mutter, realizing the teddy bear is gone, swept away in the chaos.

But Reaper is already moving, his gaze locked onto something among the debris. With surprising gentleness, he scoops up the dirt-streaked plush toy and strides back to us. He offers Mr. Snuffles to Ace, who snatches the bear and buries his face in its matted fur.

“See, Ace? Mr. Snuffles is okay,” Reaper says, a softness in his tone that belies the violence we’ve just survived.

I’m stunned. In the middle of all this madness, a man responsible for at least one dead man was able to remember a child’s teddy bear’s name. It’s these glimpses of humanity that make me believe there might be more to Reaper than what everyone else sees.

“Thank you,” I whisper, unable to hide my surprise.

“Anything for Ace,” Reaper replies, locking eyes with me. White hot heat burns through me. Even now, after everything that’s happened in the last few hours, the tug of attraction stilldraws us together. It takes everything I have not to throw myself at him. I want to think this feeling is born from gratitude, but I know that’s not the case. It’s always been like this between us.

“Check him,” Scar says to Nitro, nodding toward a dead biker.

The Demon Rider lies sprawled across the cracked asphalt. A dark pool of blood slowly expands beneath him. Nitro crouches, riffling through the leather vest. I don’t know what he’s looking for, but I doubt he knows either.

“Nothing. Not even a wallet,” Nitro says.

“Snap a pic. I want to know who this is,” Scar says to Matrix.

“Got it, pres.”

The click of Matrix’s phone sends a shiver down my spine. You don’t cross these guys and get away with it.

“Lexi,” Reaper’s voice pulls me back from the edge of panic, “you’re knee-deep in some serious shit.”

“I don’t understand why this is happening.” I swallow hard, feeling the weight of his stare. “They had guns trained on us, but they didn’t shoot. If they wanted me dead, why didn’t they kill me?”

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