Page 51 of Reaper's Claim

“For what, taking off last year and leaving me hanging for months, dodging my calls? Or for playing house with my little brother?” Hurt crept into his words, and while talking, he pushed himself off the bed.

I opened my mouth, but I was still thinking or more like processing what he said.

Kade was tall, and his height dominated me. It was as if his skin radiated sex appeal, like a drug.

“I… I thought you ditched me...” I closed my eyes, cringing as I shared this with him. “I thought you had just left me there. Then the other day, I found that letter, and I’m sorry, you know, I’m sorry for not letting you explain, and I’m... I’m just sorry,” I finished in defeat.

A few seconds passed and I opened my eyes. His face had a mixed reaction. I had just expected to see his normal hard, cold expression, but I didn’t.

For a split second, I was reminded of the man that took me to that café.

“You should leave.” He pushed the words out and took a step away from me, shaking his head. “No point bringing up shit that doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Doesn’t matter? So I don’t matter anymore?”

He hasn’t seen you in a year, Abby. Wake up. He had called me selfish and a whore since he arrived.

“You’re sleeping with my brother,” he hissed through his teeth, “Coming in here, looking like that,” he waved his hand at me. “It’s asking for fucking trouble, Abby.”

“Kade, it isn’t like that.”

One moment I stared into his eyes, and the next I gasped as he gripped my waist and pushed me back against the door.

“What are you doing?” I stuttered as I felt his hand slip up the back of my top.

He tilted his head to the side, watching the fear grow in my eyes for sure. “Drake likes you.” He dipped his head down, his mouth hovering over my ear, “Pity he falls for the whores.”

My eyes slammed shut, and I squeezed the unwanted tears back. “Let go of me.”

“With pleasure.” He pushed himself away from me, his hand gone.

I twisted around quickly so he couldn’t see how deep his words cut. “For the record, Reaper,” I twisted the knob, opening the door, “Drake and I are only friends, which is more than I can say for you and me.” I hissed the words at him.

I left his door open and walked back to my room. I shouldn’t have attempted to reason with him. I wiped an angry tear away. What had I ever seen in him?

Chapter 18

Drake

My brother had many good qualities. He didn’t blink when staring down the barrel of a gun. He didn’t flinch when it came to blood. But when it came to a poker face, he just didn’t have one.

I slapped down a full house on the table. “That’s what you call a flush, brother, now pay up!” I laughed and raked in the cash from the coffee table.

“Bullshit.” He pointed his cigarette at me, his eyes piercing. “You’re fucking working the cards.”

“More like you suck at poker.” I threw the remnants of my whiskey back and poured him and myself another. “Told you I had gotten good.”

“Cheating doesn’t make you good.” He grunted. “Four hands, you’re fucking cheating.”

I chuckled, enjoying his rage. “What do you say to another then?”

“I’m dealing.” He swiped the pack of cards from me.

“Whatever.” I raised my hands in defense. It didn’t make a difference anyway.

I heard the click, click, click coming down the stairs. Abby was wearing heels. That meant…

“I’m going out,” She paused in the large opening of the lounge. One of her perfect manicured eyebrows rose when she saw what we were doing.