Page 23 of Reaper

As he leaves, I let out a sigh.

I didn’t need this shit on our doorstep right now. Not while we are brokering a new deal with the Medina Cartel.

“Fuck.”

A squeak at the door catches my attention.

I look up to find Natalie standing there looking like a scared mouse.

I can never catch a break.

* * *

“Fuck.” His voice startles me, making me squeak.

I don’t mean to bother him, but when I walked by to go to the kitchen, I saw him sitting here. I wanted to see if he was okay or if he had any news about when I could leave.

I didn’t expect to find him so angry.

“Natalie, sorry. You shouldn’t be in here. We don’t allow women in church.”

“I never understood why they called it church on those biker shows,” I whisper the first thing that pops into my head.

He chuckles. “It’s where all the important shit happens. Rules are made, judgments handed out, and even blessings for new beginnings. It’s a sacred place.”

“So why don’t you want women in it?” I ask as I lean against the doorframe, making sure not to step inside.

He considers that a moment. “It’s for members. I’ve never actually had a woman come and ask to be a member. Maybe if one did, then she would be allowed inside, but we like to keep business away from our old ladies. The sweetbutts don’t need to know business. Less chance they will talk to the wrong person.”

I frown, scrunching my nose in disgust. “You treat them like they are whores.”

He sighs, standing before coming to my side. I let him lead me out as he shuts the door behind him, locking it with a key.

“They know the score when they come here. They agree to share their bodies with the men. In exchange, we give them food, a place to sleep, alcohol, sometimes drugs. Whatever they want really.”

“Other than respect.”

He growls. “We don’t disrespect women. The sweetbutts have their place here. If they want to leave, they know where the door is. You might not like the way we treat them, but that’s only because you weren’t raised in this lifestyle. Maybe don’t judge the people who are saving your ass.”

I swallow hard and look away. “I suppose you are right. I’ll withhold my judgment on your people. I am grateful that you decided to help me.”

He grunts, not exactly saying anything else as he leads me to the kitchen.

“I assume you were hungry, and that is why you aren’t holed up in my room.” His back is to me as he rummages through the fridge.

I flinch at his tone. He’s pissed. My first instinct is to pacify him.

“I’m sorry. I’ll go back to the room. I don’t need anything.”

My voice is soft, broken even. I turn to leave, but he’s at my side in an instant. His hand on my arm makes me flinch, waiting for the hit.

“Shit.” He drops my arm, stepping back. “I’m not going to hurt you. You are safe here. If anyone dares lay a hand on you, they will deal with me. You understand that, right?”

I give him a small nod, but it’s a lie. How could I know that? William was never supposed to hit me either, but he changed his ways. These men are more violent on the outside, so wouldn’t that make their true colors deadly?

Harrison steps closer, slowly bringing his hand up to cup my face.

“I shouldn’t have gotten angry with you. I’m not mad at you. It annoys me you think so poorly of me and my men, but I’m not mad. It only makes me want to show you the truth about us. As for you not needing anything, that’s bullshit. I can hear your stomach growling. You will never have to make yourself smaller to make any man feel bigger again. I promise. So if you are hungry, you bring that pretty little ass into this kitchen and you get yourself some food. If anyone says anything to you, tell them to fuck off. You don’t bow to any of them. Do you understand me?”

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