Page 24 of Reaper

My eyes well up with tears. “I won’t be a sweetbutt. I-I can’t. Men to-touching me…” I shiver at the thought, my eyes falling closed.

They pop open when I feel his forehead fall to mine.

“No one will touch you except me. I will only touch you when it is absolutely necessary. As for you being a sweetbutt, I wouldn’t let you even if you wanted to,” he rasps.

“This touch is necessary?” I whisper.

His eyes bore into mine. “This touch is to get my point across. To make you see that not every man who touches you will do so to harm you. This is to help you heal.”

The next question is a bit harder to ask, but I still manage.

“Why wouldn’t you let me be a sweetbutt?” I refuse to be one, but I don’t like that he wouldn’t let me if I wanted to.

“Because sweetheart. You aren’t sweetbutt material.”

I frown, feeling like that’s somehow an insult. Am I not pretty enough? Good enough? Is it because I’m broken? Why am I so caught up in his reasoning when it’s in my favor?

“Get those thoughts out of your head, Natalie. The reason you aren’t sweetbutt material is because I have a feeling you would make an amazing old lady. There is something about you that screams out, that you are the type of girl you would take home to your family and not the kind you would use for a night of fun. I won’t sully your reputation by allowing you to sleep with all the men here when I know, given half a chance one of them would snap you up and make you theirs.” A flash of something passes behind his eyes, but he hides it quickly. “Until this is resolved no one will be claiming you. So stay away from my men and I will keep them away from you.”

I nod, loving the feel of his hand against my skin.

When the door flies open, I jump forward, pressing myself to Harrison. He grunts at the impact but wraps an arm around me while his other is pointed at the door. When I look over my shoulder, I see he has a gun out and pointed at the person who walked in.

Daniela.

“Jesus, Reaper. Put the gun away,” Daniela demands.

“Fuck you, Daniela. What are you doing slamming my doors around like you own the place? You better start treating this place with more respect or else you will find yourself disinvited.”

She glares at me. “What are you doing with the little damaged girl? Need me to find her some juice?”

“Daniela, I am only going to say this once, so heed the warning. You will leave Natalie alone and stop talking shit. I will not put up with your shit. You might have grown up here, but you chose the position you did. If you don’t like it anymore, you know where the door is.”

She scoffs, “Whatever. When you are done playing house, you’ll know where to find me.”

She stalks out, but my heart is still racing.

I’m not even scared of her, but my body is conditioned to react to loud noises. I hate that I feel this way. I wish I could make it stop.

Harrison slowly lowers his arm, his gun finding its way back to the holster on his hip.

“You okay?” he asks in a low tone.

I step back from him, feeling embarrassed at having clutched to him so quickly.

“I’m sorry.”

The sound from his chest shows his exasperation.

“Stop apologizing. You have nothing to be sorry for. If Daniela causes any problems, let me know. Now how about I make you a sandwich?”

As he sets about his task, not waiting for an answer, I watch him closely.

He makes me feel safe, but can I trust him?

Even if I can, there’s a more important question I need answered.

Am I able to trust myself?

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