Page 22 of Reaper

“None of this adds up,” Reaper agrees, his jaw clenching as he scans the horizon for any sign of the retreating Demon Riders. They’ve vanished into the night, leaving us with more questions than answers.

“Come on,” Reaper says. “You and Ace are coming back to the clubhouse.”

I recoil at the thought. “No, it’s not safe there,” I protest, my heart thumping against my ribcage. “They tried to take us out there too, remember?”

Reaper steps closer, his presence overwhelming. “Lexi, you don’t have a damn choice. The clubhouse is Fort Knox compared to anywhere else right now. And I’m not letting you out of my sight until we sort this mess out.”

His commanding tone leaves no room for opposition. In another life, I might have fought harder, pushed back against the dominance in his eyes. But with Ace clinging to Mr. Snuffles and with nowhere else to go, what choice do I really have?

“Fine,” I concede, defeated. “But Ace—”

“Will be safe,” Reaper cuts in firmly. “As long as you’re both with me, nothing will happen to either of you. That’s a promise.”

Despite my doubts, my fears, and the insanity of our situation, I find myself believing him. Because beneath the rough exterior and the reputation that precedes him, I know Reaper’s word is his bond. And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough to keep us alive.

Reaper’s bike looms large and menacing, a beast of steel and chrome that seems to pulse with the same predatory energy as its owner. He’s already straddling it, while the enginegrowls with a low, feral purr. His hand extends toward me.

“Get on.”

I hesitate, my gaze flickering to Ace, who’s being fitted with a kid-sized helmet by Matrix. The helmet looks big on him, but it’s going to be good enough for the short ride to the clubhouse. Ace’s eyes are wide with a mixture of fear and excitement. I’ve never seen him on a bike before, and I never intended for him to ever ride on one. But we can’t stay here. We’re not safe. Being on the back of Matrix’s bike is the safest option. It’s the only option.

“Matrix,” I say, my voice edged with steel. “If anything happens to him—”

“Nothing’s gonna happen,” Matrix interrupts, his tone surprisingly gentle. He locks eyes with me. “I’ll guard him with my life.”

I nod, swallowing hard before turning to face Reaper. With a deep breath, I climb onto the back of his bike and wrap my arms around his waist. The leather of his cut is cool and hard beneath my fingers, a stark contrast to the warmth emanating from his body. As we pull out of the parking lot, I’m glued to his back, trying to merge into his very shadow for protection.

The wind whips past us, tugging at my hair and tearing at my clothes as we roar down the road. My mind races even faster than the landscape blurring by. I can’t shake the image of Ace behind us, clutching onto Matrix like he’s theonly solid thing in a world careening off its axis. It’s a trust fall at eighty miles per hour, and I pray he lands safely.

The clubhouse beckons in the distance. Returning to the heart of a dangerous motorcycle club’s lair goes against every instinct screaming inside me. Yet here I am, pressed against Reaper’s back, feeling every shift of his muscles as he maneuvers through the night.

And God help me, despite the fear clawing at my chest, I can’t ignore how right it feels to be this close to him. His presence is a strange comfort amid the storm, a harbor when every wave threatens to pull me under. Even after narrowly escaping death, I’m acutely aware of the man beneath the leather—the raw power, the coiled strength, the undeniable allure that is Reaper.

We’re a tangle of contradictions—safety and danger, past and present, longing and wariness. And I’m lost somewhere in the middle, clutching not just to Reaper, but to the shards of a life that’s fracturing before my eyes.

My arms tighten around Reaper’s waist, instinctively pulling myself closer to him. It’s as if my body remembers this embrace, the contours of his back pressed against my chest, a fit that’s both hauntingly familiar and dangerously comforting.

“Lean with the bike,” he shouts over the thundering noise, his voice barely audible.

I follow his lead, synchronizing my movements with his. Curves and straightaways blur into one fluid motion. In this chaotic dance of speed and precision, I find an odd sense of peace. We used to ride for hours together. He called it foreplay, and he was right. Riding with him, with the rumble of the bike between my thighs, always drove me wild. Sometimes I couldn’t wait to get back to the clubhouse. I’d make him stop on a side road and beg him to fuck me against a tree. I can’t even count how many times he took me while I was bent over his bike.

I hold in a moan as I inhale the scent of his leather jacket. Instead of fantasizing about something that can never happen again, I need to focus on who I’m dealing with now. Reaper’s a man who can navigate the darkest alleys of life’s labyrinth with unwavering confidence. If I’m in trouble with someone like Blackstone, then Reaper will know what to do. That’s the only thing I’m sure of. That’s what I need to worry about.

Yet, even knowing all that, being on this bike with Reaper reignites the smoldering embers of what we once had. I thought they’d died out long ago. I was wrong. Being on this bike reminds me of a time when love didn’t seem like such a treacherous feeling. If only he could have loved me the way I loved him. If only I’d stayed inside the clubhouse the night I discovered his true nature. I wish I could go back and changeeverything, but I can’t. And even if I could, then I’d go back to being an oblivious idiot who didn’t know how dangerous her lover really was. I can’t afford to be that person anymore.

“Everything okay back there?” Reaper’s voice jolts me from my thoughts.

“Yeah.” My voice is steadier than I feel. “Just holding on.”

“Good,” he replies, the word slicing through the howl of the wind. “Don’t let go.”

Don’t let go—of him, of Ace, of the last fragments of my life which is spiraling out of control. I’m trying not to, but the threads holding me together are starting to fray, and it’s only a matter of time before they snap.

Chapter 9: Reaper

The roar of my bike cuts through the night like a serrated blade. After being in two shootouts in the same day, I’m flooded with adrenaline. It pumps through me, begging for release, but I can’t do a damn thing about that right now. Underneath that energy brews something darker. Lexi grips me with a familiarity that stirs up a maelstrom of feelings. Shit I’d rather not deal with. She’s pressed against me just like old times, before everything fell apart.

I’ve thought about her every day since she left. Getting her out of my mind has been impossible, but I never chased after her. I couldn’t. If she wanted to run from me, I don’t blame her. I know what I am. Does she know it too?

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