Page 56 of Reaper

“There’s been a delay with the custody case.” Nina glances at the field where the custody kids are playing with Ace.

I frown, crossing my arms as I lean against the wooden railing. “How long?”

“A few extra days.” She brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear, refusing to meet my gaze. “Something doesn’t feel right. That woman’s ex-husband’s up to something.”

“Yeah,” I mutter, anger simmering in my belly. These kids have been through enough without their old man playing games. “I’ll send a couple of new prospects around to help keep watch. Just in case.”

“Thanks,” she says, her gaze drifting over to where Ace and the other two kids are tumbling around in a game of tag. Her tone shifts. It’s lighter but probing. “So, how’s it going with Lexi?”

I follow her gaze, watching Ace for a moment before answering. “She’s still after me to be Ace’s father.” The words come out more clipped than I intend.

“Is that idea growing on you at all?” she asks, an edge of teasing in her voice.

“I never imagined having a kid.” I shrug as if the weight of fatherhood isn’t already pressing down on me.

Nina chuckles, folding her arms to mirror me. “With your track record, there could be little Reapers running around that you don’t even know about.”

“No fucking way. I was always careful and always used rubbers,” I respond quickly, maybe too quickly. “Except with Lexi … Something about her just makes me reckless.”

“Reckless, huh?” Nina arches a brow, curious and unjudging. “Why do you think that is?”

“Whenever I’m with her, nothing else matters,” I confess. “I just want to get as close as possible to her. Don’t want anything in the way, not even a rubber.”

“Sounds intense. I was like that with Winchester.” Her voice is soft now, understanding filling the spaces between us.

“Intense doesn’t even begin to cover it,” I admit, looking back toward the kids. Ace’s laughter carries across the field, and for a brief second, I imagine what it would be like to join in, to be a part of his carefree world.

But then reality snaps back into focus, and I remember who I am—what I am. There’s no room for carefree in my life, not until Blackstone’s dead. Everything else is just a fleeting dream, gone as quickly as the exhaust smoke from my bike.

“She’s special, you know,” Nina says.

“Lexi’s always been different. She’s not likethe other women I’ve been with. Not clingy or demanding. She lets me be, gives me space to breathe, and lets me come back when I’m ready.” I glance at Nina. “Even now, with Ace … she isn’t pushing me toward fatherhood. And I gotta say, I’d have already run if she’d done that, if she’d put a bunch of pressure on me.”

Nina nods slowly, her gaze following the children as they chase each other through the grass. “You know, I think you’d surprise yourself. You could be a good dad.”

“What makes you say that?” I scoff.

“Because”—she turns to face me, eyes locking onto mine with a certainty that feels too strong for comfort—“you’ve got a big heart, even if you try to hide it under that rough exterior. Remember the fox you saved? Talon’s pet that got hit by that car?”

“Sure do,” I reply, recalling the blood, the panic, and the way Talon’s face had crumpled at the sight.

“You didn’t hesitate to do the right thing, even knowing what it would cost you,” she continues. “You brought that little creature back to life even though it drained you. That wasn’t about being tough or a badass biker, that was about caring. You did it for your brother.”

“That’s different,” I argue, but the conviction in my voice wanes.

“Is it?” she challenges gently. “Deep down, you know you’d go to hell and back for anyone of us. That includes Lexi … and it definitely includes Ace.”

Her words hit with the force of a sledgehammer, and for a moment, I’m speechless, lost in the truth I’ve been trying to outrun for days. Could I really step into that role? Be more than the enforcer, the man everyone whispers about? Could I be a good father?

“Maybe,” I finally mutter. “But it’s not simple. Nothing with me ever is.”

“Reaper, you think your heart’s full of darkness, but you’re wrong.” She steps closer, closing the space between us. Her hand rests on my forearm, a comforting warmth. “You’re a caring, generous man. You’ve made hard choices, yes, but only to take down the wicked.

“Light and dark coexist in you. It’s what makes you who you are. Your strength comes from embracing both sides. That’s how you help people. How you protect this family and all the other families out there that can’t protect themselves.”

I clench my jaw, fighting against the raw emotions clawing up my throat. This woman, this fierce soul standing before me, sees through my veneer. She sees something more, something I’m afraid to acknowledge.

“Darkness isn’t always evil,” she says softly, her confident tone cutting through my resistance. “Sometimes … sometimes it’s necessary.”

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