Chapter Five
They’d been at the shelter the past three days. She expected they’d be done soon. One of the bikers, named Copper, was some kind of expert with electronics so things were going smoothly. She mostly stayed out of their way.
It was getting late and she was going to lock up for the night.
Gena had to leave early, so she said she’d get it done.
The bikers had all left an hour earlier, and she’d done a final check on the women and said goodbye to Helen.
She was busy telling bedtime stories to some little girls in their room.
When she opened the front door, it was pouring rain out, and she froze in her tracks.
She’d been so busy, she hadn’t even bothered to look out the windows.
Grace watched the static rain on the dark asphalt road in front.
The sky rumbled, low and long. A few seconds later, a streak flashed above with a powerful clap of thunder, making her gasp.
A shadowed figure standing next to the door under the awning made a movement, catching her attention.
“Rainstorms and bikes don’t mix.”
It was him.
“Why are you still here? Where are your friends?”
“They left a while ago before the rain started,” he said.
“And you?”
He shrugged. “Thought I should stick around a while longer.”
She didn’t understand why’d he’d still be there after they closed up for the night. There was another strong burst of thunder and lightning, followed by an odd cracking sound above. The hall lights in the shelter went off behind her, blanketing them in darkness.
“Oh my gosh. The lights!”
She went back inside, followed by Reaper.
“What are we going to do? Gena’s already gone.”
“It’s okay. I’ll grab a flashlight from the kitchen.”
Why was his voice so calm and collected when she was panicking?
He returned with a beam of light bobbing in front of him.
“Looks like it’s only this wing,” he said. “I just need to flip the breaker downstairs.”
It was pitch-black around them. She followed close behind him as he got to the basement door and descended into the darkness.
The cool unfinished basement was used only for storage.
They had playpens, extra mattresses, and nonperishables.
It was so quiet. Reaper aimed the flashlight on the grey fuse box, opened the door, and checked inside.
“Can you hold this for me?”
She took the flashlight, holding it in place so he could work inside the cabinet with both hands.
As she watched him work, she studied his big frame.
His leather cut was wet, the scent mixing with his cologne.
There were no sounds but their breathing.
Grace realized she was completely alone with him for the first time. And she wasn’t afraid.
“You know, I keep waiting for you to prove me right,” she said.
“And?”
“I’m still waiting.”
He turned his head just a bit, a cute smirk on his face, but he didn’t say anything else.
After fiddling in the cabinet for a while, he pulled up one side lever and the lights powered on. She felt an immediate sense of relief. The basement lights weren’t switched on but the glow from the hallway above made it possible for them to see their surroundings.
“Now I can lock up in peace. I’m glad I stayed a bit later,” she said.
Actually, she was lucky he’d stuck around or she’d be clueless how to get the lights back on by herself.
Grace turned off the flashlight and set it on a small storage chest against the wall, accidentally knocking over a box of papers and photos. She immediately squatted down to clean it up. Reaper did the same.
It must have belonged to one of the new admits, being a mix of personal effects. Most women leaving an abusive relationship grab photo albums or other important papers while leaving everything else behind.
Reaper froze with a photo of a young boy in his hand. She felt the mood in the room change. He was quiet, reflective.
“My mom used to hide me in closets.” He almost whispered the words as if they shouldn’t have been spoken.
Her heart went out to him. She realized this big, muscled biker carried scars no one could see.
He put the photo into the box with the others, then stood up. His demeanor switched back in an instant, the brief vulnerability gone. Reaper put the flashlight back into the kitchen and they got to the front doors again. They hadn’t said two more words to each other.
“Hopefully, I can lock up now,” she said as they both stepped out under the awning. It was still raining, but not quite as hard.
“You know the diner across the street closes in thirty minutes,” he said.
She punched in the security code, then looked at him.
“I’m not going on a date with a biker.”
“Good,” he said. “Because I was just offering you pie.”
She rolled her eyes, but followed him across the street, holding her coat over her head. There weren’t too many cars at this time of night. The shelter was just on the outskirts of the city but still on the bus route.
When they entered the diner, the little bells chimed against the glass doors. The people inside all turned and stared at Reaper. It was almost comical. She wondered if it was like that everywhere he went. Grace had to admit she felt safe being with him at this hour.
They got a booth by the glass wall, sitting opposite each other. The waitress came over quickly and they both ordered pie. She got coconut cream and he got pumpkin.
“I’m guessing you’ve been here before,” she said.
“Couple times.”
“You know, I noticed a lot of people staring when we came in. Does it bother you?”
He leaned closer to her on his forearms as if he was about to tell her a secret. “Everyone’s afraid of me. You were too,” he said, then pulled back slightly.
She realized she’d stereotyped him just like everyone else and felt ashamed of herself.
“I wasn’t afraid.”
“Was it just raw hate, then?” He gave her that smirk again and she briefly saw a dimple on his left cheek.
She instinctively reached out to touch it with her fingertip.
Grace wasn’t expecting the power that would come from that brief touch.
She pulled back right away and tried her best to hide how much it affected her.
“You have a dimple,” she said.
“Do I?”
“You do.” She was staring at the table, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes.
“So, Grace, are you ever going to tell me why you hate bikers so much?”
She definitely didn’t want to go down that road tonight or ever. Grace looked at her watch. “We have like fifteen minutes. That would take a lot longer.”
The waitress came and set their pies down in front of them, along with the bill.
“Enjoy.”
“I love whipped cream,” she said, trailing her fork through the topping. “Do you think she left the bill because she wants us out of here asap?”
“Definitely.”
They both laughed.
Why was she so relaxed with him? She felt safe, heard, respected.
“How much time do you need?” he asked.
“To eat this?”
“No, to tell me why you hate bikers.”
“It’s just hard. It brings up too many feelings that I don’t want to feel anymore.”
“It’s not good to bottle things up,” he said.
She thought about the ton of baggage he must have hidden inside of him, but kept her mouth shut.
****
Reaper pulled into the compound. He was soaked through and couldn’t wait to hit the shower and crash into bed for the night. The rain had finally stopped.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Tarmac asked.
“I stuck around a bit. Power went out.”
Copper took a swig of his beer, stepping closer to Reaper’s bike. “How? Everything should be working like a charm.”
“Just the weather. Tripped the breaker.”
“You know you owe us big time,” Tarmac said. He was sitting on a lawn chair, flicking through his phone. “This isn’t fucking UNICEF. I didn’t sign up for charity work.”
“You’ll get paid. Relax.”
“What about that chick?”
That caught his attention and he whirled around toward Tank. “What chick?”
They all scoffed like fucking little schoolgirls giggling about a boy.
“If you have something to say, say it,” Reaper said.
“What he means is, you’ve got the hots for that blonde at the shelter.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, okay, buddy,” Tarmac said. “You were practically drooling every time she walked by.”
“You’re full of shit.”
“Am I?”
“I don’t have time for your old lady gossip. I’m hitting the shower.”
“What happened?” Tank asked. “You crash and burn?”
He wasn’t going to get into this with his brothers. As club enforcer he was responsible for keeping the peace, not rearranging faces. Reaper didn’t think he was that transparent when it came to Grace. He’d have to be more careful.
He took a quick shower, tossing all his wet clothes in the hamper.
It was late so he went outside to do his rounds, check the locks, gates, and make sure all the fires were out.
He had a note about one of the newer prospects throwing his weight around and the older boys were talking.
It wasn’t going to work for him. Reaper went over to the prospect’s room, banging on the door with his fist.
“What the fuck?” He opened the door, a towel wrapped around his waist.
Reaper said nothing at first, just stared him down until his bravado came down a few notches.
“I hear you’re the big man around here,” Reaper said.
“Huh? I don’t know.”
“That’s right. You don’t. I’ll tell you right now, one time, about how things work around here.
” He used his hand for emphasis. “You’re not a patched member.
The prez is up here, you’re way down here.
A tiny fish. Fish shit. You’re supposed to be proving yourself, making us want to keep you around.
Right now, you’re fucking up by pissing off the big boys around here.
Ones with weight. That makes it my problem.
So, calm the fuck down, act your rank, or I’ll toss you out myself. Do you understand?”
He nodded.
“Use your fucking words, prospect.”
“Yes, Reaper. It won’t happen again.”
He slammed the door shut with emphasis and made his way back out to the yard.
Lord and Ally were sitting on the love seat under the gazebo. When his prez called him over, he internally groaned. He hoped the other guys hadn’t said too much about the shelter or Grace.
“There you are, stranger,” Lord said.
“I’m always around. You need something done. It’s done.”
He could tell Lord wasn’t interested. The look on his face and the way he was sitting meant he was in one of his rare good moods. Usually, his old lady brought out the best in him.
“I hear you’re walking around with blue balls.”
“Lord,” Ally chided.
“It’s true. He can’t even take what he fucking wants. It’s not a good look.”
“I don’t claim women. I’m not an animal,” he said, trying to keep his cool.
“That’s good, Reaper,” Ally said. “It’s good to take things slow.”
Why did everyone know more about his love life than him? What love life? They had pie, nothing more. He didn’t know the texture of her lips or the softness of her skin. She was a complete mystery to him.
Then he blurted. “We had pie together.” Oh, fuck. He was just so happy about it inside he wanted to share. Not with Lord, but Ally.
“That’s so sweet,” she said. “I’m rooting for you, Reaper.”
“Fucking pussy,” Lord muttered.
Reaper ignored his prez. It wasn’t his place to talk back. Ally swatted him to shut him up, which worked. Once they started making out, he used the chance to slip away.
He thought about how little he knew about Grace, and he didn’t want his brothers to look up things he didn’t even know. So, he headed to the office and started to do his own search without involving Copper.
Grace Evans
Twenty-Seven
Orphaned
He exited the screen, and bolted out of his chair as if the computer had caught fire. Reaper felt a deep wave of guilt, like he was invading her personal space when he’d researched hundreds of people before without issue. He didn’t want to know more. Not like this.
He remembered their time at the diner. It had been a long while since he connected with another person outside the club. They laughed, they teased, they related to each other. She was starting to invade his thoughts.
This wasn’t about getting her not to hate him anymore. It was about hoping she could love him one day.