Chapter 17 Lexi
The roar of the motorcycle’s engine vibrates through me as I wrap my arms tighter around Reaper’s waist, feeling the reassuring solidity of his body. The wind whips past us, tugging at my hair and clothes, but I’m anchored, secure behind this man whose mysterious past is unraveling before me. We speed down the dusty road leading to Nina’s ranch, a fortress hidden among sprawling fields.
“Almost there,” Reaper shouts over the noise.
I nod against his back. Even though he can’t see it, he feels it. He reaches down to glide his hand up my calf, giving it a soft, reassuring squeeze.
I’ve been here before, so the sight of high fences crowned with barbed wire doesn’t startle me, nor does the glint of cameras tracking our approach. If anything, it eases a knot inside me, knowing Ace is safe within these walls. The gate slides open without a hitch upon our arrival. Reaper called earlier, so Nina would know we were coming.
As we pull up to the farmhouse, the engine’s growl dies. The sense of calm security that permeates Nina’s ranch washes over me. Stepping off the bike, I remove my helmet, shaking out my hair as Reaper does the same, his movements deliberate and unhurried.
“Thanks for bringing me here,” I say.
He merely nods, scanning the perimeter with eyes that miss nothing. His protective instincts are always on sharp display, yet it’s those very traits that keep him from easing into the role of fatherhood.
I walk around to the back porch and find Nina sitting at the picnic table. The table is adorned with a crisp, white linen tablecloth, creating a clean and elegant backdrop for the afternoon tea spread. A delicate lace runner trails down the center of the table, adding a touch of vintage charm. In the center, a floral arrangement of freshly picked wildflowers sits in a quaint ceramic vase, infusing the air with their sweet fragrance.
A tiered stand sits in the center of the table, showcasing an array of delectable treats. On the bottom tier, an assortment of finger sandwiches is neatly arranged, featuring classic fillings such as cucumber and cream cheese, smoked salmon and dill, and egg salad.
The middle tier holds an enticing selection of scones, still warm from the oven, accompanied by jars of clotted cream and strawberry jam. The scones are golden brown and crumbly, promising a delightful indulgence.
Finally, the top tier is adorned with an assortment of petite pastries and cakes, each intricately decorated. Miniature éclairs, fruit tarts, and lemon drizzle cakes glisten temptingly in the sunlight. My mouth waters.
“Come sit, honey,” Nina says to me. “You too, Reaper.”
“You ladies enjoy, I’m just going to check on the kids,” he says before heading into the field behind the house where the children are playing.
“I hope you like English Breakfast,” Nina says, reaching for a porcelain teapot. “Winchester and I went to England once. I fell in love with tea while we were there.”
“I wish I’d been able to meet him.” I smile as she fills two cups with matching saucers.
“That was before your time. But he was the love of my life.” A sad smile flickers across her face. “Now, the boys are my world.”
“I can see how much they care about you.”
“And I feel the same way about them.” After passing a cup to me, she gestures toward a bowl of sugar cubes and a pitcher of fresh milk. “I can’t remember how you take it.”
“I don’t really have a preference. This is a lot fancier than the coffee I usually drink.”
The soft clinking of a teaspoon against delicate china fills the air as Nina stirs a single sugar cube into her tea.
“How’s Ace doing?” I ask before taking a sip. The bold and malty flavor slides across my tongue, leaving a trailing note of caramel behind. Its robust and earthy undertones are complemented by a subtle sweetness that lingers on the palate. “Wow, this is good.”
“It’s what the royal family drinks. I have it imported.”
I cover my surprise with another sip. Although I don’t know the details about where Nina acquired her wealth, over the years I got the sense that she had more money than she could spend. She’s never bragged about it and rarely discusses money at all, but I know she’s loaded. Some day when I’m feeling particularly bold, I might ask her about it.
Nina’s eyes follow Reaper as he lingers at the edge of the field, a silent sentinel to our son’s play. She turns back to me, her gaze softening. “How’s he doing, now that he knows Ace is his?”
“Not great,” I admit. “He thinks he doesn’t have it in him to be a good dad.”
“He’s probably still in shock. You’ve got to give him time,” she says, cradling her teacup. “He’ll come around.”
“How long will that take?” I wonder.
“Reaper may seem like a fortress, but even the strongest walls crumble eventually. Be gentle with him, and he’ll be grateful for it.”
I press my lips into a thin line, pondering her words. It’s easy to see the cracks in Reaper’s formidable walls now that I’m looking for them—the way his gaze never fully settles, the tightness around his mouth when Ace’s laughter rings too loud. I fiddle with the corner of my napkin and venture, “Do you think he can love Ace?”
“Of course.”
And me? I want to ask, but instead, I keep my mouth shut.
“I feel like there’s so much I still don’t know about him.”
“Has he opened up to you at all?”
“A bit. He told me about Blackstone.” I flick my gaze from Reaper’s distant form over to Nina. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s all right. I’ve picked up details here and there over the years. I know what happened to the boys there. Not everything, but enough.”
“Do you think they’ll ever be normal after something like that?”
“Who’s normal? What does that even mean?” Nina scoffs. “Of course not. But that doesn’t mean they can’t have wonderful relationships and fall in love. He’s in love with you, you know.”
“I doubt it.”
“Don’t. I can see it in his eyes—in the way he looks at you when he knows you’re not looking back. I also see fear there. After what he endured, I can understand his hesitation. He’s not afraid of love. He’s afraid of trusting the wrong person. And in your case, you’re going to have to work extra hard to win his trust.”
“Why?”
“Because you kept Ace from him.”
“I saw—”
“I know what you saw. Reaper told me. But that’s just what he needs to do. It’s hard for someone who hasn’t lived his life to understand his need to kill, but that will never go away. Even if he falls in love. Even if he’s deliriously happy to have a son—”
“He’s not.”
“Maybe not yet, but he’ll change his mind eventually,” Nina says sagely.
“How can I earn his trust?” I ask.
“By being consistent. Don’t hold anything else back. There shouldn’t be any secrets between you. Always tell him the honest truth, even if you think it will make him angry. He’ll never hit you, never hurt you. But if you lie to him, it will kill his soul.”
“I understand,” I murmur.
“Do you?”
“Yes,” I say with more conviction.
After all these years, after learning about the sacrifices Reaper’s made, the burdens he carries, understanding has bloomed where fear used to take root. Yet, there’s still so much about him shrouded in shadow.
“The other club guys mentioned something when they came to get us after the accident,” I start, my curiosity getting the better of me. “They mentioned something about Reaper having special powers.” The words feel ridiculous even as they tumble out of my mouth.
“Did they now?” Nina doesn’t seem surprised as she takes another sip of tea.
“Yeah, and I—” I cut myself off, second-guessing whether I should go down this path. But the need to know claws at me relentlessly.
“Spit it out,” she encourages with a gentle nudge.
The memory surges back—fleeting images, sensations, the cold embrace of darkness. “When I was in that accident, when Reaper found me …” My voice trails off as I relive the moment, “I thought I was dead.”
“Dead?” She raises a brow.
“I don’t know if it was a hallucination or what, but it felt real. Too real. And then, suddenly, I wasn’t.” Confusion wraps around me like a heavy fog. “I woke up to Reaper calling my name, and everything was different.”
“Sounds like you went through quite an ordeal,” she says, her eyes searching mine. “And you think Reaper had something to do with bringing you back?”
“Maybe,” I admit, the possibility both terrifying and awe-inspiring. “Maybe not. I just know something happened. Something weird.”
“Then you should ask him about it,” she advises, not unkindly. “But brace yourself, Lexi. There’s a lot about Reaper that goes beyond what we see on the surface.”
I nod, the weight of her words settling in my chest. Learning about Reaper—his past, his pain, his powers—t’s like peeling back layers of a mystery. Each revelation brings me closer to the man who’s both shielded and bewildered me since the day we met.
“Thanks, Nina,” I say, gratitude warming my voice. “For everything.”
“Anytime, honey.” She reaches across the table, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze before we both turn our attention back to the field, watching Reaper watch over our boy.
The scent of freshly cut grass and the laughter of children fill the air as I watch Ace play, his joy infectious. But my mind is restless, teeming with questions about Reaper, about us. Nina’s words echo in my head, a reminder that there’s more to him than the tough biker exterior, more than even I understand.
“Go on and ask him,” Nina urges gently as she tidies up our tea setting. “You need peace of mind, and he owes you answers.”
“I will. When we get back.”
A scream tears through the tranquility of the afternoon. My heart lurches. It’s Ace, his small face crumpled in distress. The other two kids gather around something on the ground. Reaper strides over, his movements controlled but swift. I jump out of my chair, ready to run to my child.
“Wait. Let Reaper handle this.” Nina grabs my arm before I can pass her.
“He might need me.” I gently tug out of her grasp and run down the steps.
As I move closer, Reaper’s already kneeling beside whatever has caused the commotion. A tiny bird lies motionless, its delicate wings splayed awkwardly. A collective sorrow hovers in the air, the finality of death too apparent for the young kids.
Ace’s eyes brim with tears as he looks at Reaper. “Can you fix it?” There’s so much hope in his voice it nearly breaks my heart.
And then, it happens.
Reaper’s hands hover above the lifeless form, his fingers twitching ever so slightly. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but a soft glow emanates from his palms. The kids gasp, their eyes wide with wonder.
“Shh,” Reaper says softly, a rare tenderness in his voice.
The bird shudders, its chest heaving with a sudden breath. In moments, it’s fluttering up, taking flight as though nothing happened.
“Are you a wizard?” Ace’s question is full of awe, innocence shining in his eyes.
Reaper chuckles, shaking his head. “Nah, buddy, it was just dazed, that’s all.” But his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, and I sense the weight of the secret he carries.
“Thank you,” Ace murmurs, his gratitude simple and pure.
I stand there, frozen, grappling with what I’ve just witnessed. My heart races while my mind scrambles to make sense of the impossible. There’s no way that bird was simply dazed. It was dead.
“Thank you for taking care of him,” Ace repeats, his voice steadier now.
“No problem,” Reaper replies, ruffling Ace’s hair with a grin that doesn’t quite mask the shadow in his gaze.
I’m still reeling from the shock of what I just witnessed. The image of Reaper’s glowing hands etches into my memory. I knew there were untold depths to him, but this … this is something else entirely. It’s magic—real and undeniable—and it scares me as much as it intrigues me.
As the children resume their play, now with lighter hearts, I steal a glance at Reaper. He’s watching them, but his eyes are distant, as if he’s somewhere far away. I have to know more. I need to understand who he really is, what he’s capable of, and why he hides it so fiercely.
“Lexi?” Nina’s voice pulls me back, her hand gently touching my arm. “Are you okay?”
I nod, swallowing hard. “Yeah, I—I just didn’t expect …”
As I watch Reaper play with the kids in the field, I shiver. It’s mid-afternoon, and the sun’s still high overhead, but a chill fills my bones. If he can bring people and animals back from the dead, what else can he do? Is Ace right? Is Reaper some kind of sorcerer?
“Reaper’s been through a lot,” Nina says quietly, her gaze following mine to where he stands. “More than most people could handle. It changed him in ways you can’t understand.”
“I see that now,” I whisper, my thoughts a whirlwind. “I’m going to talk to him about it when we get back to the clubhouse.”
“He’s a good man, Lexi. That’s really all you need to know about him.”
“He’s not a monster, is he?” I say, turning toward Nina.
She shakes her head, her lips curving into a soft smile. “No. There’s a lot of good in him. He just doesn’t see or acknowledge it.”
“I know he’s got a past that would break most men, but there’s something about him … He’s still standing, still fighting.”
“Have faith in him, Lexi,” Nina says, her hand reaching out to squeeze mine reassuringly. “Having faith in each other will get you both through the storm. Hold onto that thought when things get rough.”
“I do have faith in him,” I confess, finding comfort in the truth of my own words.
“Good,” she replies. “You’re going to need it.”
A shout of laughter pulls our attention back to the children. Ace’s eyes are bright with excitement as he plays with the other kids. Seeing him so carefree makes my heart feel lighter. It’s time to go, but I hesitate, reluctant to break the joyful spell.
“Come on, Lexi,” Reaper calls out. “It’s time to head back.”
“Ace, honey!” I call out, waving him over. “We gotta head out now.”
He runs over as fast as his little legs can carry him. “Aw, Mom, do I have to go too? I’m having so much fun with Miss Nina and my friends!” he protests, his lower lip jutting out in the universal child’s plea for Just five more minutes.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Nina’s happy to have you stay for a few more days,” I assure him.
“Of course,” Nina confirms with a warm chuckle. “I love having the little rascals around. Keeps me young.”
“Thanks, Nina,” I say, sincerely grateful.
“Anytime, Lexi.” Her gaze follows Ace as he dashes back to his friends.
Reaper wraps Nina in a brief, tight hug. “Take care of my boy.”
“I will. Be careful, Reaper,” Nina murmurs, the maternal concern in her voice clear as day.
“Always am,” he replies. But there’s a softness there, an unspoken promise that speaks volumes.