Page 50 of Reaper
No matter how many times I repeat the name, I can’t place it. It sounds familiar, but it’s been too long since I lived in the human world for me to figure it out before I get to the diner.
I hadn’t heard from Kyra in a week, and it was killing me. I guess my brothers were getting tired of hearing me complain, so Viking ordered me to go talk to her. I know her schedule like the back of my hand and knew she’d be at the diner.
The ride on my Harley was helping with my stress, and then my phone vibrated. As soon as I saw her name flash on the screen, I pulled over to answer. It suddenly became too hard to wait the short time I had left before arriving to see her in person.
“I’m coming, Kyra,” I whisper to myself as I push my Harley to her limit. “Just hang on a little longer.”
When Sonny told me I only had ten minutes to get there, I panicked for a moment. And then I reminded myself that the laws of the human world don’t apply to me, not in the long run. If the cops wanna try to pull me over for speeding, I’ll just shoot them. I’ll do anything to get to Kyra in time.
Anything.
The diner comes into view seven minutes later, and sigh with relief. I made it with time to spare, and I didn’t even have to kill anyone to do it.
“Sonny Harris, whoever the fuck you are, you’re a dead man walking,” I vow as I park and get off my bike.
The neon sign isn’t lit up, and the diner is dark. Not bothering to get out the key I still have from when I was working here, I kick the front door open, sending it flying off the hinges and shattering the glass.
“Kyra!” I yell, racing toward the hall where there’s a shaft of light coming from what I assume is her office.
“We’re back here, biker boy,” Sonny calls out.
I grab my gun out of my waistband and flick off the safety. If Sonny isn’t the only one here, if anyone is blocking my path to Kyra, I’ve got a bullet reserved for them.
As soon as I hit the hall, a dark figure steps out of her office, and the knife he’s holding glints in the dim light.
“Never bring a knife to a gun fight,” I snarl as I put two slugs in his chest.
He slumps to the floor, dead as dead can be, and I slowly move forward.
“Kyra, are you okay?” I call.
“She’s fine,” Sonny responds. “But she won’t be if I don’t see your face in two seconds. One,—”
“I’m right here,” I bark, turning to my right so I can see into her office.
A man, Sonny I assume, is holding Kyra up by her throat and has a gun pointed at her head.
“I’d be careful if I were you,” he warns. “I might just get a little twitchy if you take one more step.”
“Let her go,” I demand.
“Why would I do a crazy thing like that?”
The fear in Kyra’s eyes nearly knocks me to my knees. Blinking several times, I remind myself to focus on Sonny, not Kyra. I can’t afford a second of weakness because of my worry for her. I slip, she dies. And that’s not fucking happening on my watch.
“You called me, remember? So, it’s me you want.”
“The gun to her head says otherwise.”
“Just shoot him, Reaper,” Kyra begs. “Shoot him, please.”
“I can’t.” The disappointment in her gaze guts me. “I want to, Kyra. I swear I want to. But not yet. Just trust me, okay?”
“Shut up!” Sonny yells. “I didn’t gather us all here to chit chat. Fuck!”
“Then tell me why you wanted us here,” I suggest, my trigger finger itching to move. “Why did you and your friends come after her that night, and why are you here now? Tell me. I’ll listen.”
“Put your gun down first,” Sonny says.
