Page 14 of Reaper

“Are you still working for him?”

“No. I told you. He fired me.”

“You’re not spying on the club for him.”

“On the club? Why would he want someone to spy on you?”

“Who else would want to hurt you?” he asks, ignoring my question.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you have any enemies?”

“No. At least, not that I know of. Blackstone was a jerk, but he doesn’t have any reason to want to hurt me. I’m sure he could replace someone like me with a single phone call.”

Reaper’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s a shift in the air. It’s clear he doesn’t believe me. I’m left with the nagging thought that the danger I fled might be closer than I ever imagined. Blackstone fired me, sure, but kill me? Why would he want to do that? None of this makes any sense.

The turmoil in Reaper’s eyes is a storm I’m not brave enough to weather. The truth about why I really left Blackstone’s ranch threatens to spill from my lips, but the rage in Reaper’s gaze stops me from saying another word.

“Why did he fire you?” he asks, finally breaking the tension.

“He didn’t like how I cleaned. Look, I’m really tired. Doc said that Ace and I need to be in bed.” When his jaw tightens and his heated gaze drops to my breasts, I shiver. I quickly correct myself, “I mean, I need to sleep. In the other room. With my son.”

Reaper’s grunt is noncommittal, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest like distant thunder. It’s the only reply I get as I edge past him. The space between us is charged with the energy of things left unsaid. His scentoverwhelms me. It’s as dark and sinful as ever, an intoxicating blend of black pepper, clove, and patchouli. It’s familiar in a way that sets my skin ablaze with memories best left buried.

As I slip by, his fingers encircle my upper arm. His firm, unyielding grip sends my pulse into overdrive. There’s a silent plea in his grip, a wordless demand. He wants me—us—the way we used to be, reckless and wild and untamed.

“I can’t,” I breathe out, the words quivering in the charged air. They’re a confession, an admission of how easily I could fall back into the abyss with him. But I have too much to lose now, too much at stake. So I wrench free from his hold, the heat of his skin lingering like a phantom caress.

With one last look that sears my soul, I hurry into the other bedroom, closing the door behind me, and shutting out the tempest he embodies. Leaning against the solid wood, I draw in ragged breaths, each one tasting of desperation and the bitter tang of regret. Outside, the rumble of motorcycle engines fades into the night, but the echo of what I’ve just escaped pulses loud in my veins. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to escape this man again.

Chapter 5: Reaper

I’m half-tempted to chase after her and demand answers to the questions that have been plaguing me for years. Why’d she bail on me? On us? Was it really something as simple as being pissed off about Valentine’s Day, or was there more to it? Also, I don’t believe that her connection to Blackstone is a coincidence. There’s something else going on, and I’m going to figure this shit out. But first, I need to stop thinking about how tight her pussy felt back when we fucked like animals five times a day.

Chains of self-restraint rattle in my head. I can’t go after her for all the reasons I couldn’t commit to her back then. The truth is as stark as the tattoos etched into my skin—I fight, I fuck, I execute the scum of the earth. That’s my trinity. That’s all I’ve got room for.

A woman will never understand that about me. Hell, even I can’t understand why I have to fuck after I kill. I should be balls deep in pussy right now, but instead, I’ve got the worst caseof blue balls I’ve ever had, and there’s no end in sight.

Padding out of my room and into the kitchen, I pull a heavy oversized shot glass out of a cabinet. I open the cupboard full of booze and choose my favorite whiskey. This should do the trick.

I toss back a shot of whiskey, but it’s like throwing gas on the flames licking up my insides. My knuckles still itch from the right hook that sent some lowlife to the ground earlier tonight. The kill had been clean—a bullet to the brain of a man who’d had it coming. It should’ve given me relief, a release, but it didn’t. Nothing’s scrubbing the edge off. Not even this top shelf shit.

Returning to my room, I throw myself on the bed. I feel like a damn raft lost at sea as I lie here, every muscle coiled, every nerve alight. Sleep’s a no-show. All I can think about is how badly I need something—someone—to burn this energy off with. It’s laughable, really. I don’t cuddle. I don’t spoon. I fuck women hard and leave ‘em begging me for more. That’s how shit should be tonight, but it’s not. I am alone, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. I’m not leaving Lexi and Ace with a handful of prospects. I’m convinced she’s in some kind of danger, but I have no idea what it is because she won’t tell me the full truth about anything.

A frustrated growl rumbles from my throat.Need claws at me, relentless and raw. The old me would’ve already been out the door, hunting for a warm body to sink into. After I kill, I need to lose myself in sweat and skin, long enough to forget the reality of my existence for a while. But tonight, I’m just staring at the ceiling fan, its blades slicing through the stale air, an echo of the chaos spinning in my skull.

“Damn it, Lexi,” I mutter to the shadows. Nothing’s straightforward when it comes to her. It’s never been easy with her, and I doubt that will ever change.

It’s too hot in my room. I’m a live wire, buzzing with a need that’s got no outlet, no release. The walls feel too close. The air’s too still, like the world’s pressing down on me, waiting for something to explode.

I shift on the mattress, trying to find a position that doesn’t remind me of Lexi’s curves fitting against mine. But it’s useless; she’s imprinted in my memory. Her scent lingers in the room, intoxicating me.

“Fuck,” I hiss, squeezing my eyes shut against the images that flood my brain—the way her hair spread like wildfire across my pillow, the taste of her sweat as I kissed down her neck …

It’s torture, knowing she’s just one thin wall away. If it weren’t for the kid—Ace—I’d be over there now, consequences be damned. She used to ignite something primal in me, a blaze that only she could stoke. And damn if she doesn’t do itstill.

My hand drifts lower, palming the evidence of my unsatisfied lust. I can almost feel her beneath me, the catch of her breath, the arch of her back. I’ve been hard since she walked out, leaving me with nothing but the memory of her heated gaze. Lexi always was transparent when it came to desire. I could read her body like a book. I knew what she wanted just by the tilt of her head or the smirk in her eyes. Back then, it didn’t take much before we were tearing each other’s clothes off.

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