Chapter Nine
Reaper was halfway across town when his phone rang. He didn’t need to look at the screen to know something was wrong.
He answered it immediately. “Yeah?”
“R-Reaper.” Rook’s voice cracked, breath coming fast and uneven. “I-I screwed up. They took her. I tried—”
Reaper’s vision tunneled. The world narrowed to the sound of blood in his ears and the white-hot spike of rage that slammed through his chest. He stopped the bike.
“What happened?” he demanded.
“It happened at the hospital back exit,” Rook said quickly. “Cartel, there were two men. I think one of them was Cruz. I recognized him from one of our files on the cartel. I got a shot off but—” He sucked in a breath, and the prospect sounded in pain. “I’m hit. Shoulder.”
For a split second, Reaper wanted to tear into Rook.
He wanted to demand how the hell he’d let it happen.
Then he took deep breaths and forced himself to calm down.
He had heard the panic in Rook’s voice and the fear.
Rook was just a prospect and he was probably in pain, but still, Elena was gone, taken on the one day he wasn’t there to keep an eye on her.
Reaper forced his teeth to unclench.
“Listen to me,” he said, voice dropping into iron calm. “You did your job. You slowed them down and you warned me right away.”
“I should’ve...” Rook began.
“No.” Reaper cut him off. “You’re hurt. Get yourself checked in. Now. I’ll handle the rest.”
There was a pause. “You’re not mad?”
Reaper swallowed the rage burning his throat. “We’ll talk later. Let someone look at that shoulder. That’s an order.”
He ended the call before Rook could say anything else.
Silence rushed in. Then Reaper saw it. The SOS text from Elena. It was sent only a few minutes ago. The hell? His chest constricted. A low, animal sound ripped from his throat.
“Fuck.”
Reaper tightened his hold on the handlebars until they turned white.
He dragged in a breath, forced his mind to work past the red haze.
Find her, he told himself. He remembered telling Elena it would be better if he could track her phone and she had agreed eventually.
He took his phone out, accessed the secure app, and synced to her device.
A blinking dot appeared on the map. It moved, then it slowed, moved again then finally stopped. It was a house located on the edge of town. An abandoned neighborhood riddled with boarded windows and forgotten streets.
Of course, Cruz would take her to a place like that. Somewhere remote and where he thought no one would find them. Reaper stared at the screen, jaw flexing. Every instinct screamed at him to ride. To tear through the town like a bullet and burn the place down alone if he had to.
He forced himself not to. Instead, he hit King’s number.
King answered on the second ring. “Reaper.”
“He took her. Elena,” Reaper said. “Cruz.”
The pause on the other end was brief but loaded. “Where?” King demanded.
Reaper rattled off the location. “I want a crew. Now.”
King exhaled slowly. “You know what you’re asking.”
“I know exactly what I’m asking,” Reaper shot back. “And I’m going either way.”
Another pause. Reaper imagined King rubbing his temples, weighing fallout, bloodshed, territory lines.
Then, “You’ll have three,” King said. “Best I can do fast. I’m making calls.”
Relief slammed into Reaper hard enough to make his hands shake.
“Thank you,” he said, and meant it.
“Don’t thank me yet,” King replied. “This could light a fuse.”
“They already did,” Reaper said coldly.
He ended the call and kicked the stand down, pacing tight circles beside the bike. He flicked his gaze to the map again and again. The dot didn’t move.
The good? That meant she was still there. Minutes stretched into something unbearable. His thoughts turned violent, brutal images flashing unbidden. Cruz’s face. His hands on Elena. Fear tightening her eyes.
Reaper’s chest burned. He’d failed her. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t let this happen. He’d known the risk, had a feeling the cartel never truly let go. Now she was paying for it.
Engines roared down the street. Reaper turned as three bikes pulled up hard, gravel spraying. Brothers dismounted without a word. They looked armed and ready. Reaper nodded in silent satisfaction.
“Mount up,” Reaper said. “We’re taking her back.”
They didn’t question him, they simply rode. The town center fell away behind them, buildings thinning into skeletal houses and dead streets. Reaper rode like the devil himself was on his heels, weaving through potholes and cracked asphalt.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. King. He answered without slowing.
“I got hold of Morales,” King said.
Morales was the current head of the cartel. Reaper’s blood ran cold. “And?” Reaper prompted.
“He says Elena was taken off their list,” King continued. “Once they found out she was affiliated with us, they wanted no war.”
A sharp, bitter laugh tore out of Reaper. “Bullshit,” he muttered.
“There’s more,” King said. “Cruz is acting alone. He’s gone rogue. Morales claims he didn’t authorize this.”
Reaper’s jaw set hard enough to ache. “Convenient,” he muttered.
Yet, it made some sense. Cruz had always considered him his rival. Both of them joined the cartel at the same time but Reaper always got promoted first. During one mission which Reaper led, Cruz had gotten injured badly and he’d blamed Reaper for it. Cruz never did learn to let go of a grudge.
“Could be a trap,” King warned.
“I don’t care,” Reaper replied. His voice was flat now. Deadly. “She’s my priority.”
“I figured you’d say that,” King said quietly. “Good luck.”
The call ended. Reaper cut the engine a block away from the house. He lifted a fist. The crew fanned out, silent shadows slipping between derelict buildings.
The house loomed ahead. The windows were dark, the porch sagged. One car parked crooked out front.
Reaper locked his gaze on the front door. She was inside. He felt it like a hook buried under his ribs. He motioned two brothers to flank the back. One stayed with him.
Reaper drew his weapon, breath steady, mind cold. This was what he was built for. He kicked the door in. Wood splintered. The sound cracked like a gunshot.
“Cruz!” he roared.
Chaos erupted. A man lunged from the hallway. Reaper fired without hesitation. Another went down screaming. Muzzle flashes lit the room in harsh bursts.
“Reaper!” a voice shouted from upstairs.
Elena. His heart stuttered.
He took the stairs two at a time, blood roaring in his ears. At the top, Cruz stepped into view, gun pressed to Elena’s temple. She was pale, shaking, but unmistakably alive. Reaper froze.
“Easy,” Cruz said, breathing hard. “Take another step and she dies.”
Reaper lowered his weapon slowly, eyes never leaving Elena. Fear knifed through him at the sight of tears tracking down her face.
“Let her go,” Reaper said. His voice was deceptively calm. “Or this ends badly for you.”
Cruz laughed, wild and brittle. “You always got the better of me, Vega, but you won’t today.”
“You’re already dead,” Reaper replied. “You just don’t know it yet. I heard Morales didn’t authorize this, that you’re acting on your own.”
Cruz narrowed his eyes and tightened his grip. Bingo, Reaper thought, so it was true. Elena then whimpered. Something inside Reaper snapped.
He moved without thinking and a shot rang out. Was he hit? No, Cruz collapsed like a broken doll. A red dot bloomed on the side of his skull.
Elena screamed as Reaper crossed the room in a blur, catching her as her knees buckled. He crushed her to his chest, arms locking around her like a shield.
“You’re safe,” he rasped. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
Elena fisted her hands into his cut, and a sob tore out of her chest. Reaper wrapped himself around her without hesitation, locking his arms around her tight.
He felt her shaking seep into him, each tremor echoing against his ribs. He bowed his head, breathing her in, grounding himself in the fact that she was here.
He closed his eyes and kissed her gently on the mouth.
“No one’s ever going to touch you again,” he told her quietly.
****
The ride back to the MC compound passed in a strange, hushed blur. Elena sat behind him on the bike, arms locked tight around his waist, her cheek pressed between his shoulder blades.
She didn’t let go once. Reaper felt every shallow breath she took, every tiny hitch, and it lit something fierce and protective in his chest. He rode slower than usual.
At the compound, brothers looked up when they rolled in, conversations cutting short at the sight of Elena clinging to him like she might disappear if she loosened her grip.
Reaper didn’t stop to explain. He didn’t owe them explanations. He swung off the bike and helped her down, keeping one arm firm around her waist when her knees wobbled.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured when she swayed.
She nodded, swallowing hard, and let him guide her inside. Upstairs, he took her straight to his room without thinking. It was instinct. The safest place he knew.
“Shower,” he said gently, steering her toward the bathroom. “Warm water. It’ll help.”
She hesitated at the doorway, eyes unfocused, still somewhere else. Reaper turned on the water himself, testing it until steam began to curl into the air. Only then did he look back at her.
“Will you be okay on your own?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Come shower with me.”
Reaper stayed. He helped her undress, then it was his turn. Finally, they stood beneath the spray together, water beating down, washing away blood and fear and the stale scent of that house.
Elena leaned against his chest, her breath evening out slowly as he pulled her into an embrace. He felt the tension drain from her inch by inch, like she was finally letting herself believe it was over.
By the time they dried off and crawled into bed, exhaustion seemed to hit her all at once. She curled into his side without asking, fitting there like she belonged. Reaper pulled the blankets up around them and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, anchoring her close.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
“I knew you’d come,” she said.
The words punched straight through him.
He tightened his hold on her. “I would’ve torn the town apart,” he admitted. “Nothing would’ve stopped me.”
She tilted her head to look up at him, eyes still glassy but steady now. “What happened ... with Cruz?”
Reaper exhaled slowly. “Cartel head didn’t authorize it. Cruz went rogue. There’s history there. Rivalry. He wanted to prove something.” His voice roughened. “And he used you to do it.”
“I’m sorry,” he added, feeling miserable. “You were taken because of me.”
Elena shook her head immediately, fingers curling into his shirt.
“No. I chose to be with you, and I’m here now.” She pressed closer. “I’m just glad it’s over.”
Reaper rested his chin against the top of her head, eyes burning as he stared into the dark. He held her as sleep finally claimed her, breathing slow and steady, staying awake long after she drifted off.