24. Finn
Finn
The moment the door slammed behind us, Reaper turned on me. “What the hell was that?” he roared.
I didn’t answer fast enough which was a big mistake.
Reaper closed the distance in two strides and grabbed a fistful of my kutte, yanking me forward hard enough my boots scraped across the floor.
“You don’t leave my table,” he bit out. “You don’t run past my gate, and you sure as hell don’t charge into unknown territory like a goddamn prospect with something to prove.”
“I saw them,” I started.
His fist connected with my jaw. My head snapped to the side, a sharp crack ringing in my ears as I staggered back a step.
No one moved or spoke as I fought down the memories coming back. Me cowering in the corner as punches rained down. My mother screaming for him to stop but never stepping in or doing anything to help.
Reaper stepped in again, crowding my space. “You think I didn’t see them?” he said.
My muscles tensed, the blood tangy on my tongue, but I held his stare.
“They hurt her,” I said, opening and closing my jaw to try to work off the pain.
“And you just handed them confirmation,” Reaper snapped. “You showed them exactly where she is, how we react, and who matters. You don’t get to lose your head,” he went on, quieter now, but I felt worse for it. “Not here. Not under my patch.”
Then he straightened and stepped back, turning his back on me and walking to his seat at the head of the table.
Reaper’s gaze moved around the table. “New prospect, what’s your name again?”
“Leighton, Pres.”
“Leighton, go to the bar and get my old lady and Kate.”
The prospect nodded and scurried off.
Reaper watched after him for a moment, then his eyes settled on me. “You’re off her.”
The words didn’t register right away. “What?”
“You heard me,” he said. “You’re too close. Too distracted.”
“I’m doing my job.”
“Not the way I need it done.” His voice didn’t rise, it didn’t have to, the tone was enough. “I don’t put men on protection when they’re thinking with anything other than their head.”
The sounds in the room turned muffled, someone coughed, but all I felt was pain. Not the physical pounding in my jaw where he’d hit me, but a deep ache in my chest that Kate and Noah would be protected by someone other than me. It should’ve been me.
“She moves to the cabin,” he went on. “Two prospects on rotation. Keno checks in.”
My chest went tight. “You don’t trust me?”
His eyes locked on mine. “Right now, no.”
The door opened behind me. Kate stepped in, arms folded around herself, her eyes flicking between us like she already knew something was wrong.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Reaper didn’t soften when he looked at her. “You’re moving,” he said. “To the cabin. It’s safer, quieter, and more controlled.”
“With who?” Her hands twisted at her waist.
“Two of mine,” he replied. “They’ll rotate. You won’t be alone.”
Her eyes shifted to me, but I couldn’t hold her gaze. “Finn will be there?” she asked.
Reaper answered before I could. “No.”
“What?” Her voice cracked, just slightly. “No . . . no, I don’t, I don’t know them.”
“They’re patched prospects,” Reaper said. “They follow orders.”
“I don’t care about orders,” she snapped, her panic bleeding through. “I don’t know them. I don’t trust them.”
Her eyes locked on mine, wide, desperate. “I trust you,” she said. “I want Finn.”
Every muscle in my body went tight. I fought the urge to argue back, to take her in my arms and promise to stay with her for every moment. But that wouldn’t help anyone. Club first, it had always been the way.
“Kate,” I started.
“No.” She shook her head, clutching Noah closer. “I’m not going out there, somewhere isolated, with men I’ve never met. Not after—” She cut herself off, breath shaking. “I won’t do it.”
Reaper stepped forward slightly. “You don’t get to pick your protection,” he said.
Her chin lifted, but her hands were trembling. “Then I’m not going.”
“You think this is optional?” Reaper asked, voice dropping in warning.
I stepped forward before I could think better of it. “She’s scared.”
Reaper’s head turned slowly. “And you’re proving my point.”
That shut me up.
Kate looked between us, panic rising sharper now. “Please,” she said, softer this time, breaking a little. “I just . . . I need someone I know. Someone I trust. Finn . . . please.”
That word cut me to my core. Please.
Reaper watched her for a long second, his eyes darting between us, seeing what we weren’t saying out loud. “Fine. Keno goes with them,” he said.
Kate blinked. “What?”
“He’s senior,” Reaper continued. “You know him.”
Her breathing was still uneven. “And Finn?”
Reaper didn’t even look at me. “He stays here. I’ve got work here for him.”
Kate’s shoulders dropped slightly, like something inside her had just given way. Not acceptance, just no fight left.
“Pack what you need,” Reaper said. “You leave in ten.”
Kate didn’t move. Her eyes flicked back to me again, catching on something this time. Her expression tightened.
“You’re bleeding.”
The room went quiet in that sharp, loaded way club rooms did when everyone noticed something they weren’t supposed to comment on.
I swiped my thumb across my mouth and looked down at the smear of blood like it didn’t matter. My jaw already ached where Reaper had landed the punch.
“Caught an elbow,” I muttered.
Kate stared at me like she knew I was lying. Her gaze shifted slowly to Reaper, then back to me again, something understanding and unsettled passing over her face all at once.
Reaper just leaned back in his chair like none of it concerned him. “Ten minutes,” he repeated.