Page 62

62

Raven

I hear the bedroom door snick shut after Nix and Raptor leave. It didn't take them five minutes to swap out the sheets, and I'm still trying to peel off my filthy clothes so I can shower. Reaper's helping as much as he can, ensuring I don't fall over while I remove the stained layers.

He's surprisingly gentle with me—such a contrast to what I'm used to with him. The gruff and growly enforcer has softened his edges for me, and that's crazy attractive. I watch as he unbuttons my jeans, taking his time sliding them down my legs. His every movement is careful and calculated, taking note of every new bruise on my body.

Every so often, I see his jaw clench when he sees one of the ruthless marks Dom and his guys left on me. His eyes flash with rage each time he sees the evidence of what I went through. I know if any of them were still alive, he'd find them and make them pay a thousand times over for what they did to me. But they're already gone. He made sure of that.

Reaper looks up at me from where he's kneeling on the floor. There's a fire and agony in his gaze so intense, I'd fall over from the impact if he weren't holding onto me. He seems to want to say something, but no words leave his mouth. Instead, he continues undressing me, his jaw still tight as he works.

His fingers trace every mark on my stomach as he slides my shirt up and over my head. The callouses on his hands give me goosebumps as his featherlight touch kisses my skin. I hear him rather than see him stand. My eyes must have closed without me realizing it. When I work up the courage to open them, I see him staring down at me with a furrowed brow.

The muscles in his jaw twitch as his eyes bore into me. Before I can ask what's wrong, he speaks. "I'm sorry," his voice comes out in a choked whisper. The despair he's feeling is clear as day. "I'm so sorry, Wildfire."

He buries his face in my hair, pulling me tight to his chest. Though he's trying to be gentle, the force makes my body scream. I swallow my pain, not wanting to make him feel worse. This new side of him seems fragile, and I won't do anything to break him. It's the last thing either of us needs right now.

Reaper's ragged breaths disappear into my hair as I wrap my arms around him. "I'll never let anyone hurt you again," he says, flexing his fingers against my back.

I can't explain it, but even after everything I went through, I've never felt safer than in this moment. The conviction in his words gives me all the reassurance I need to know his words are true. I'll never be as safe with anyone else as I will be with him.

With my face buried in his chest, I reply, "I know. I trust you." I love you.

The unspoken words send a shockwave through my system. Is that what this is? Is that why I kept fighting him so hard all these months? Was I running from this the whole time? Is it true, or am I just grateful he saved me?

I push the thoughts away, shoving them deep down inside me. It's too much to deal with right now. I still need to shower and rest before I start contemplating life's biggest mysteries. Taking a deep breath, I pull back, making Reaper look me in the eye. Neither of us says a word, but his hand cups my jaw as his thumb traces my lips.

"You're mine, Raven," he growls, sending chills down my spine.

A newfound hunger ignites in my stomach at his use of my name. "And you're mine, " I reply firmly, fisting his shirt in the center of his chest.

His responding groan only fuels my desire as I pull him down to me, locking our lips. Reaper meets my hunger with an overwhelming show of his own. I'm numb to my pain as he digs his fingers into my hips, pressing our bodies closer, feasting on my mouth as his hardness stabs at my stomach.

I want him. Fuck, do I want him, but as our kiss grows more wild, the pain catches up to me. I wince as his hand touches one of the more sensitive spots on my side. He quickly pulls away, looking me over with concern. Trying not to look guilty, I tell him, "It's just a sore spot; I'll be okay."

I don't want to stop. To hell with the pain. I want his lips on mine, his body covering me as he makes me forget everything I went through at the hands of the Bastards. Needy and desperate, I try to claw my way back to him, but he holds me at arm's length, leveling me with a look.

When he shakes his head, I deflate. "You need to shower and rest. We'll have plenty of time for that once your wounds heal some more," he tells me.

I'm not too proud to beg right now, but the look he's giving me tells me it would be pointless. With a sigh, I give in. "Okay," I tell him. "But I'll still need help in there." I point to the shower. It's not a bluff; I still feel lightheaded, and showering alone isn't the best idea.

Reaper nods, backing me to the lip of the tub. He finishes undressing me before guiding me to sit at the edge while he takes off his clothes. I enjoy every second of it as more and more of his skin becomes visible. He's all hard lines and layered muscle beneath the fabric. I can't help but drink him in.

He smirks at the look on my face as he pops the button on his jeans and lowers his zipper. My mouth is dry as I bite my lip, watching his dick bob beneath the denim. He's still hard as a rock, and I'm irritated that he won't let me enjoy that right now. I fight back a groan as he slips his pants down, revealing his nakedness underneath.

Fuck, he's stunning.

My eyes are hooded as his erection moves closer to me, making my mouth water. I lean forward, hoping to get a taste of him, but two strong hands stop me before my lips meet his tip. Suddenly, I'm being pulled up and into the shower as my Adonis turns me so his chest presses into my back. Warm water hits my breasts, doing nothing to distract me from the hardness at my back.

I want him so bad, but he's being responsible, ignoring his obvious desire in favor of taking care of me. That only makes him sexier and does nothing to curb my lust. I arch my back, pressing my bare ass against him, wiggling slightly. When his grip on me tightens, I know he's tempted to give me what I want, what we both crave. But he resists, instead moving his hands away from my hips and into my hair.

Reaper massages my scalp, working the water between my locks as dirt, blood, and grime slide down my body and disappear into the drain. The sight makes me cringe, and suddenly, I feel self-conscious. For days I was locked in that room. I had no access to a shower or toilet the entire time. They gave me a bucket and left me with the rats and roaches. It was disgusting.

The memories of that place start to curb my lust. Now, I just want to get clean. I want to wash away every trace of that horrible place and forget I was ever there.

Reaper grabs the shampoo from the shelf, working it into my scalp as I lean against him. The suds disappear with the murky water as he washes away the memories of the last few days. I try not to think about them as his hands work their magic, but my mind won't let them go. Not completely.

Every day was a fight to stay alive. A battle to protect myself against men who have no morals. It was awful. I fought so hard every minute that I was there, depleting myself in the process. By the end, I thought I had nothing left. I'd fought so hard that I had barely any fight left in me.

It was horrifying.

That feeling that they'd win, that I'd falter after fighting so long, was the scariest feeling of my life. I'd never felt fear like that before, not even when Nix took off on her own and went to find Viper in Phoenix. What I felt then was more anger than anything. Anger I was used to. Anger was my constant companion, but fear . . . That was new.

I was truly afraid for the first time in my life as I lay on that dirty floor, thinking Dom was coming for me for the last time. My body was spent, and my mind was crumbling. That's when the fear seeped in. That's when I thought it was over.

Seeing Reaper and Jesse seemed like a hallucination. Something my mind made up to save me from the horrors that were about to befall me. But the horrors never came. Dom and his guys didn't get to me because I'd been saved. I felt safe and warm when Reaper pulled me into his arms, carrying me out of the darkness. My hero had come for me at last.

When I blacked out, I wasn't sure if I'd imagined it or if they'd truly come to save me, but it didn't matter. I needed something to cling to in the darkness. So, as he carried me from my prison, that's what I did—I held on to the illusion that I'd been saved—and just like that, my fear started to slip away.

It's over. Our nightmare is over, the Bastards have been dealt with, and we're safe. I didn't realize my eyes were closed until I opened them to find the water finally running clear at my feet. My pulse is still racing after my trip down memory lane, but Reaper doesn't mention it as he continues cleaning me.

His calloused hands make gentle work of it as he takes his time washing every inch of my skin. When I look at him over my shoulder, his jaw is clenched tight as he zeroes in on the bruises along my back. He still blames himself for my abduction, and I'm not sure anything I say will change that, but I have to try.

"Hey," I say softly, turning in his arms. "None of that."

His eyes meet mine, and I feel his chest heaving against me. He knows what I mean, but that doesn't mean he'll cooperate. I take his face in my hands and hold fast as I tell him, "You are the reason I'm standing here safe and sound. I won't let you beat yourself up over something none of us could control."

His eyes search mine as his lips thin. Before he can argue, I add with conviction, "It's not your fault. None of it is your fault, and I won't let you blame yourself for it any longer. The Bastards wouldn't have stopped until they took one of us. We all know that. They would have come back again and again until they succeeded. Stop blaming yourself because I don't."

Reaper shakes his head. "If we'd dealt with them sooner—"

"You did," I tell him. "You did deal with them. Thanks to you, none of them will ever hurt anyone ever again."

"If we did something sooner, though, you wouldn't have—"

I shake my head. "Stop. Just stop." I pull his face closer to mine as I drive my point home. "I forgive you." My words register, making his eyes widen. "I forgive you for whatever mistakes you think you made. I forgive you. Now, it's time you forgive yourself because I won't let those fuckers take anything else from us. Will you?"

Water pelts my back as I wait for his reply. For several long minutes, Reaper stays silent. His face contorts as he struggles with my request. It's the most vulnerable I've ever seen him. His chest expands with every harsh breath he takes before something inside him cracks.

His eyes are glassy as he nods his head. "They can't have anything else," he says quietly. "Never again."

"Never again," I repeat, pulling him closer. "Never again."

Our lips meet as Reaper's hand cups my neck gently. The kiss is deep and slow, unlike any we've shared before. This gentle, vulnerable side of him breaks something inside of me. It's like a wall falls down around my heart, exposing me like never before. It terrifies and thrills me all at once.

Emotions I've never felt before bubble to the surface, and a certain word comes to mind. Love. This is love; that’s what I'm feeling.

It's real, and it's new, and fucking terrifying. I love him. Reaper—the moody, broody, asshole enforcer—I love him. And if I'm reading him right, he feels the same about me. He doesn't do gentle or soft or vulnerable, not ever. But he is now. He is for me.