Page 24 of Reaper's Justice
"So you raised her alone?"
"As best I could. Worked security jobs. Tried to be normal." His mouth twists. "Failed at that part."
"What happened?"
"Met Blade during my last tour. We stayed in touch. When civilian life wasn't working out, I suggested we channel our skills into something that would. The MC started small. Just protection work for legitimate businesses getting squeezed by organized crime."
"And now?"
"We control territory, keep out the worst elements, provide security for those who need it." He shrugs. "Some of what we do falls into gray areas legally. But we have lines we don't cross."
"Like human trafficking."
"Like human trafficking," he confirms. "Like hurting innocents. Like preying on the vulnerable."
I take another sip of water, processing this. "And Emma? Your daughter? How does she feel about all this?"
Something painful crosses his face. "She keeps her distance. Smart girl. Saw too much when she was sixteen. A rival club attacked our old compound. I had to... handle it. She saw what her father really is."
The regret in his voice is unmistakable. "You miss her."
"Every day." He straightens, clearly uncomfortable with the personal turn of the conversation. "What about you? Before all this."
I look down at my hands, at the healing marks around my wrists. "Nothing exciting. Foster care from age seven when my mother OD'd. No father in the picture. Aged out at eighteen with nothing but a GED and whatever I could fit in a backpack."
"No one helped you transition?"
I laugh, the sound hollow. "The system isn't big on aftercare. I worked whatever jobs I could find—waitressing, retail, cleaning houses. Shared an apartment with three other girls until they moved out, and I couldn't afford it alone. Was staying in a weekly rate motel when the Vultures MC grabbed me."
"No one reported you missing?"
"Who would notice?" I shrug, trying for nonchalance but not quite achieving it. "I was between jobs. Had no family. The motel owner probably just thought I skipped out on the bill."
Reaper's expression darkens. "Three months. And no one looked for you."
"Story of my life." I attempt a smile. "Invisible girl."
"Not anymore," he says with certainty.
Chapter 7 - Reaper
"Not anymore," I say, the words carrying more weight than I intended.
"Don't make promises you don't intend to keep."
I shouldn't be surprised by her mistrust. Hell, I'd be concerned if she wasn't suspicious. But something about it still cuts deeper than it should.
"Why would you think I don't mean it?" I ask.
She shifts on the bed, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders.
"Look, you've been... better than I expected. But let's be real. You're an MC president. You've got a club to run, territory to defend, business to handle. You don't have time for some stray woman, especially not damaged goods like me."
The term "damaged goods" ignites something in me. A slow-burning anger not at her, but at everyone who's ever made her feel that way. At a world that discards people like they're nothing.
I move toward her without thinking, stopping directly in front of where she sits. She looks up at me, those eyes wary but not afraid. I do something then that I've never done in my life, except for my daughter. I kneel before her, bringing myself to her level, and take her hands in mine.
Her skin is soft despite the healing marks around her wrists. I run my thumbs gently over her knuckles, feeling her pulse jump at the contact.
