Chapter 21
Reaper
Ididn’t think she’d come back. Not after the motel. Not after throwing Caleb’s death at my feet like I hadn’t carried that weight every damn day since we put him in the ground.
Her words still echoed, jagged and raw. “If you cared half as much as you pretend to, maybe Caleb wouldn’t be dead.”
That hurt deeper than I let her see, because part of me believed it too.
So, when the door creaked open that night, I felt it before I even turned. Lucy. Storming in like she always did, dragging the air with her.
Of course, Gabby was on my lap when it happened, one arm looped lazily around my shoulders. Her perfume was too sweet, her lips brushing my ear as she laughed at something I hadn’t heard. I hadn’t touched her, but I hadn’t pushed her off either.
The second Lucy stepped inside, this time dressed in a long white dress that clung to her tits then fanned out from the waist, her black boots thudded on the floor as she walked.
Fuck if I couldn't help it, but my cock twitched as visions of her bent over, dress yanked up invaded my mind.
Her eyes locked on me, and I saw it. The flicker in her jaw, the stiff set of her shoulders.
She hated it, and I hated that it mattered to me.
Gabby noticed, like she always did. She slid off my lap with a cat’s grace, but her eyes shot to Lucy.
“She doesn’t belong here and you know it, Pres,” she drawled, sauntering back behind the bar.
My glare snapped to her. “You can leave anytime, Gabby. Lucy’s staying.”
Her smile twitched before she grabbed a bottle of Jack and busied herself. She’d heard me loud and clear.
That’s when Link stood from his stool, grin stretched wide, eyes dragging over Lucy like she was already his. “Lucy,” he said, his voice warm, easy, “you look—”
She tilted her head, lashes lowering, smile sharp and sweet all at once. “Better than you remember?”
Link chuckled, stepping closer.
I growled. Low. Guttural. Enough to still the room. My stool scraped back, boots heavy on the floor.
Link froze mid-step, his hands lifted in mock surrender, smirk faltering just a fraction. “Easy, Pres. Just being polite.”
I didn’t answer. Didn’t need to. My eyes never left Lucy, chained to hers like nothing else in the damn room existed.
I tipped my head, and a prospect slid two beers down the bar. “No answers yet?” I asked loud enough for the room.
She faltered for half a step but recovered. She sat beside me, and heat rolled off her, magnetic and dangerous. The pull was almost too much to resist.
“No answers yet,” she murmured.
I smirked, leaning in close. “Did you expect them to come easy?”
Her jaw flexed. She wanted to argue, wanted to burn me, and I wanted to let her. God help me, I wanted her fire.
It took everything in me not to haul her onto the bar and claim her right there, in front of everyone. My men were watching and waiting, and she was testing me.
“You need to leave, princess,” I muttered. “Before you dig a hole you can’t climb out of.”
Her lips curled, slow and dangerous. “I don’t think you want me to leave.”
The way she said it, low and knowing, lit my blood on fire.
I tried to deny it. “You’re wrong.”
“Am I?” she pushed, smile curving sharper.
Then she stood, stool scraping loud, every head in the room snapping towards us. She walked straight for the back rooms, hips swaying like she owned the place. Like I didn’t matter.
My stool groaned as I shoved to my feet. My club. My house. My rules. And she spat on all of it.
I caught her at the door, palm slamming against the frame, caging her in. “Looking for something?”
Her eyes met mine, bright with challenge. “Maybe.”
I leaned in, chest brushing her shoulder, voice razor-sharp in her ear. “You don’t belong back here.”
“Like I said, I don’t think you want me to leave,” she shot back, calm and lethal. “Maybe if you’d tried harder, Caleb would have stayed too.”
Something snapped. My hand closed around her arm, dragging her into the hallway and slamming her to the wall. My palm braced beside her head.
“Say that again,” I hissed, my breath hot against her mouth.
She met my fury without a flicker of fear. “You think I’m scared of you, Jay? You think I’ll shut up just because you bark louder than the rest of your boys?”
I hated her.
I hated that she saw through me.
I hated that I wanted her anyway.
My hand tangled in her hair, and I crushed my mouth to hers. The kiss wasn’t sweet. It was a clash of teeth, heat, and fury. Her hand fisted my kutte, dragging me closer, answering me with fire instead of retreat.
When I tore away, we were both panting. My forehead pressed to hers, every muscle locked tight to stop myself from losing it completely.
“What about Gabby?” she asked, her tone mocking.
“Fuck Gabby.”
“Thought you already were.”
“Not anymore.”
She smirked. “Really, Pres? Wonder what’s changed.”
“You keep pushing like this,” I growled, “you’ll burn everything down.”
Her glare never wavered. “Good. Let it all burn.”
For a second, I almost let it. Almost let her drag me all the way into the fire.
But I forced myself back, creating enough space to breathe, to remind us both who was supposed to be in control.