Chapter Four
Elena stared at him, her brain stuttering. Apart from the cartel, there was only one other group people in this town learned to be wary of early. One other name that carried weight, fear, and whispered stories that always ended badly.
Devil’s Crown MC. Her heart thudded painfully against her ribs.
“That’s ... that’s not funny,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction. “You can’t just say something like that and expect me to—”
“I’m not joking,” Reaper cut in.
Impatience edged his voice now, a sharpness that made her flinch. He stood just inside her apartment, broad shoulders nearly brushing the doorframe. Reaper didn’t look like a man asking permission. He looked like a man used to being obeyed.
“You need to come with me,” he continued. “Now.”
Elena shook her head, grounding herself by pressing her bare toes into the carpet.
“I don’t know you. You show up at my door in the middle of the night, tell me I’m in danger, and expect me to just ... leave? That’s insane,” Elena pointed out.
He tightened his jaw. “We don’t have time to argue,” Reaper said.
“Well, I don’t have time to be kidnapped either,” she shot back, fear spiking into something hot and defensive. “If you’re really with the Devil’s Crown MC, that doesn’t exactly make this better.”
Reaper moved his gaze to the window, then back to her.
“You saved a man who was supposed to die,” he told her.
The room seemed to tilt. Her breath caught, a cold thread of recognition pulling tight inside her chest. Images flashed unbidden. Blood soaking through gauze, a weak grip on her wrist. Please, he’d whispered. Her stomach dropped.
“The man in the ER,” she said slowly. “The stab wound.”
“Yes,” he simply said.
Elena swallowed hard. “Who ... who was he?”
Reaper didn’t hesitate. “A snitch. He betrayed the cartel. Ran when he should’ve stayed loyal,” he said.
The words felt unreal, like something out of a crime show she never watched. She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady her breathing.
“He was just a patient,” she said. “He was bleeding out. I didn’t know any of that.”
“I know,” Reaper said, and for the first time, something like restraint crossed his expression. “But they don’t care. You kept him alive long enough for him to matter again.”
Elena’s pulse roared in her ears. “So they want to kill me because I did my job?” Elena asked.
“Yes.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It makes perfect sense to them,” he replied. “You’re an easy target. A nurse with no family or friends. No protection. Your death sends a message to the next doctor who thinks about saving the wrong man.”
A chill crept up her spine, slow and merciless.
She backed up a step, the edge of her couch bumping into the backs of her knees.
“You said you’re not here to hurt me,” she said.
“I’m not,” Reaper said. “If I were, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
She searched his face, looking for cracks, lies, anything that would tell her she was making a mistake just standing here with him. All she found was grim certainty.
“Then why you?” she asked. “Why does the Devil’s Crown MC care about me at all?”
“Because the cartel is moving near our territory,” he said. “And because if they make an example of you, it becomes our problem next.”
That answer didn’t comfort her nearly as much as she thought it should. Before she could respond, a sound cut through the night. The low growl of engines. Tires hissed against pavement outside, a sharp, ugly sound that raised every instinct she had.
Reaper snapped his head toward the window.
“Shit,” he muttered.
“What is that?” Elena asked, dread pooling in her stomach.
“Backup,” he said. “Or what passes for it.”
He moved fast, crossing the room in two long strides and gripping her arm just above the elbow. His hand was warm, solid and unyielding.
“We have to go now,” Reaper insisted.
She recoiled instinctively, heart hammering. “Wait. I can’t just—”
“Pack,” he said, voice hard. “Bare essentials, clothes, medication if you need it. We don’t have time for anything else.”
Her first instinct was to pull away, to scream, to tell him to get his hands off her. Everything in her screamed stranger, danger, wrong. However, her instincts told her he was telling the truth. Elena wrenched her arm free and went to the window.
She parted the curtain just enough to see the street. A black SUV rolled to a stop beneath the flickering streetlight. Another pulled in behind it, blocking the road. Doors opened in practiced unison.
Three men stepped out. They wore black. Jackets zipped high despite the heat. One of them cradled something long and unmistakable under his arm. Another scanned the building with predatory calm. They were armed. The world narrowed to a single, terrible point.
“Oh, my God,” Elena whispered.
Her legs went weak. If Reaper hadn’t been there, she would’ve sunk to the floor.
“That’s them,” he said quietly behind her. “You decide. Now.”
Her mind raced, panic clawing at the edges of her thoughts. Trust the biker enforcer who claimed he was here to protect her. Or stay and wait for the men who clearly meant to kill her.
She thought of the ER, of the man’s hand clutching hers. Of the oath she’d taken as a medical professional and all the nights she’d walked home alone and told herself she was strong enough to handle whatever came.
She didn’t want to die. She turned, meeting Reaper’s eyes.
“If I go with you ... am I safe?” Elena had to ask.
“As safe as I can make you,” he said. “I won’t let them touch you.”
Elena still had a dozen questions, of course. Like, why her? She meant nothing to Reaper, but now wasn’t the right moment to ask him that.
She nodded once. “Okay,” she finally said.
Reaper didn’t waste a second. “Go.”
Elena moved on instinct, adrenaline cutting through fear. She grabbed her overnight bag from the hall closet, hands shaking as she stuffed in clothes, toiletries, her phone charger. She hesitated only long enough to shove her wallet into the side pocket.
The sound of boots echoed faintly from outside now. Voices, low and sharp.
“I’m ready,” she said, breathless.
Reaper took the bag from her, slung it over his shoulder with ease. “Stay close to me. Do exactly what I say.”
Her throat tightened. “If this is a mistake—”
“It’s not,” he said, already guiding her toward the door. “Staying would be.”
As he opened it and ushered her into the hallway, Elena’s heart thundered with fear and a strange, fragile resolve. She didn’t know if she could trust him, but she knew she wanted to live.
****
The hallway felt too narrow the moment Elena stepped into it. The air was thick with old carpet and someone’s burned dinner, the familiar smells of her building suddenly hostile.
Reaper moved ahead of her like a shadow given shape, quiet despite his size, one hand already at the small of her back as if guiding her without really touching.
“Stay behind me,” he murmured. “Eyes forward.”
Her heart hammered so loudly she was sure it could be heard through the walls. They took the stairs instead of the elevator. Reaper didn’t even slow, taking them two at a time, boots landing soft and precise.
Elena struggled to keep up. She clenched the strap of her bag tightly, every step echoing too loudly in her ears. Halfway down the first flight, a door on the floor below creaked open. Reaper froze and so did she.
Voices drifted up, low and foreign, the cadence wrong for casual conversation. A laugh followed, sharp and humorless. Reaper swore under his breath. He turned, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her back up the stairs just as footsteps hit the landing below.
“Move,” he hissed.
They burst back onto her floor, Reaper already scanning. He yanked open the door to the maintenance stairwell at the end of the hall and shoved her inside.
The space was dark, smelling of dust and oil. A single bulb flickered overhead.
“Run when I tell you,” he said, backing her against the wall. His body became a shield, broad and unmovable. “No matter what you hear.”
Her mouth felt dry. “Reaper...”
A gunshot cracked through the building.
The sound was deafening in the enclosed space. Elena screamed before she could stop herself, clapping a hand over her mouth as plaster dust rained from the ceiling.
Reaper didn’t flinch. He drew his weapon and fired back through the open door, two sharp shots that echoed like thunder. Someone shouted in pain. Another voice barked orders.
“Now,” Reaper said.
He grabbed her hand and hauled her with him down the stairs, taking them so fast her feet barely touched the steps. Her lungs burned, fear sharpening every sensation until the world felt painfully bright and loud.
They burst out into the rear exit, the metal door slamming behind them. The night exploded. Gunfire erupted from the front of the building, muzzle flashes lighting the street in harsh bursts. Tires screeched somewhere nearby.
Elena stumbled, barely keeping her balance as Reaper dragged her across the uneven pavement toward the alley. A bullet ricocheted off a dumpster inches from her head. She screamed again, the sound ripped from her chest as terror took full control.
Reaper shoved her behind the dumpster and crouched in front of her, firing down the alley with brutal accuracy. His face was calm, terrifyingly focused, eyes tracking movement she couldn’t see.
“Breathe,” he ordered. “You pass out, I leave you.”
The threat worked. She sucked in a ragged breath, then another, nails digging into her palms as she forced herself to stay conscious. Headlights flared at the end of the alley.
“They’re cutting us off,” she gasped.
“I see them,” he said.
Reaper grabbed her again and ran. They cut through the alley, vaulted a low fence, and spilled into a neighboring parking lot. Elena’s legs burned, her vision tunneling, but adrenaline kept her upright. A car door slammed behind them.
“Stop!” someone yelled.
Gunfire followed. Reaper twisted, shoving her to the ground just as a bullet screamed through the space where her head had been.
He rolled over her, shielding her body with his own as he returned fire. The smell of cordite burned her nose. Her ears rang, the sound a high, piercing whine layered over the chaos.
“Up,” he said, hauling her to her feet again. “Almost there.”
She didn’t know where ‘there’ was, only that she trusted him with a desperation that scared her almost as much as the men chasing them.
They sprinted across the lot toward a dark truck parked near the far fence. Reaper hit the key fob. The lights flashed.
“Get in!” he shouted.
Another bullet shattered the rear window as he shoved her into the passenger seat. Glass sprayed across her lap, sharp and cold.
She screamed, curling inward as Reaper slammed the door and rounded the front of the truck. He slid into the driver’s seat, engine roaring to life as more shots rang out.
The truck lurched forward, tires squealing as Reaper floored it. A black SUV surged after them, headlights blazing.
“They’re still coming!” Elena cried.
“I know,” he grumbled.
Reaper cut hard down a side street, then another, weaving through residential roads at reckless speed. The SUV stayed on them, relentless. A second set of headlights appeared in the mirror.
“Oh, God,” she whispered. “How many are there?”
“More than there should be,” he said grimly.
A gun barrel emerged from the SUV’s window. Reaper swerved just as shots ripped through the air, punching holes in the tailgate.
Elena ducked, hands over her head, sobbing as fear finally broke through the adrenaline.
“This is my fault,” she choked. “I should’ve—”
“Shut up,” Reaper snapped. “Not your fault.”
He took a sudden turn into an industrial stretch, warehouses looming like dark giants. He slammed on the brakes, then jerked the wheel, spinning the truck into a loading bay shadow.
The SUVs blew past. Reaper cut the engine. They sat in darkness, Elena’s heart pounding so hard it hurt. Seconds stretched. Then engines roared in the distance, fading.
Reaper exhaled slowly, forehead dropping to the steering wheel for a beat before he straightened. Elena was shaking uncontrollably.
“Why,” she whispered hoarsely, turning toward him. “Why send so many men after one woman? I’m no one.”
Reaper started the engine again and pulled back onto the road, driving slower now, cautious. He didn’t answer.
“Reaper,” she pressed. “You said they wanted to teach me a lesson. This feels like more than that.”
His jaw tightened. “It is.”
“Then tell me,” she said. “I deserve to know.”
He drove in silence for another block, then finally spoke.
“I dealt with the first group,” he said. “The ones sent to scare you. To make an example.”
Elena’s stomach dropped. “You ... dealt with them?”
“They won’t bother you again,” he said.
Cold spread through her veins. “And when they didn’t respond...”
“They sent more,” he finished. “Because now they think someone’s interfering.”
Her pulse spiked. “You.”
“Yes,” he admitted.
She stared at the windshield, the truth settling like a weight on her chest. “So I’m not just a warning anymore.”
“No,” Reaper said quietly. “You’re leverage. Or a problem they want erased.”
Her hands trembled in her lap.
“I’m in deeper trouble than I thought,” she murmured.
Reaper glanced at her then, his expression hard but threaded with something fierce and protective.
“Yeah,” he said. “You are.”
He tightened his grip on the wheel.
“And that’s why I’m not letting you out of my sight,” he said.