Thankfully, he assumed I was upset because I didn’t hear him enter the room. No, I was mad because he stood there, shirtless, skin flawless except for a scar over his left pec. But even that made Reaper look like every delicious thing I’d ever want to put in my mouth.
“It’s fine. I didn’t hear you come in.”
Liar! Liar! Pants on fire!
“I figure if I can’t sleep, I might as well eat.” I accepted the fork from him. “Thanks.”
“I came down for some water.”
“Is Swede leaving tomorrow?” I asked.
Reaper made his way around the counter and opened the fridge. He pulled out a bottle of water and closed it. “Yeah. He has to relieve another Protector.”
Inside, the horny part of me was doing back flips and pelvic thrusts. I wanted to facepalm at my thoughts but managed to remain nonchalant—barely.
“What’s the plan for me, then?”
“Well.” He wrung the cap from the bottle and lifted it to his lips. “We head back with him and I start digging. This is a really strange case—I really don’t have a clue where to start.”
“Maybe the license plate number of the car that was following me?”
Reaper tilted his head. It was obvious he was totally impressed. The pride it sent through me was illogical. Instead of saying anything, I put more food in my mouth.
“Perfect place to start.” He took a long drink from the bottle.
My eyes travelled to his Adam’s apple, the dance it did every time he swallowed would have been heavenly against my tongue. I choked then and dropped the fork on my plate. I held my breath, trying not to cough. My throat and eyes burned and my lungs screamed for air. Somehow, I managed to hold it together.
“You okay?” Reaper asked.
“Yeah.” Another lie. “Fine.”
“Get me the number in the morning, okay?”
“I will.”
“Okay—good night.”
I smiled. “Night, Reaper.”
I was awake two hours after falling asleep. The lack of sleep was beginning to tell on my body. Ever muscle ached and my eyes were like they had sand paper rubbing against my eyeballs.
Birds chirped outside my window, and the sounds of footsteps moving above me made for a strange symphony I kind of liked. Still, I climbed out of bed, washed up in the bathroom, then dressed in a pair of jeans, black tank and a light blue cardigan. I then packed, dug for the license plate number in my cell, and scribbled it down on a page I ripped from my notebook After taking one final look at myself, I hurried down the stairs.
I was alone with Swede, who was standing over the stove. Surprised, I peeked around him to see he was making scrambled eggs and sausages.
“Where’s Reaper?” I asked.
“Went into town to pick up a few things.” Swede said. “Morning to you too.”
“Sorry.” I blushed. “Good morning.”
“Are you missing our Grim already?” Swede teased.
“Yeah, like hemorrhoids.”
“Me thinks though protest too much.”
I smacked his arm. “Swede!”
He laughed. “You’re not still mad about him scaring you in the bed and breakfast are you?”
“No.” I frowned. “I only asked where he was because he asked for something last night.” I waved the paper at Swede while taking a seat on one of the elegant stools. “I wanted to give it to him first thing.”
“Give it to him? Strange turn of phrase.”
I glared at him, but Swede only laughed and winked at me.
“He’ll be back.” He told me, nonchalantly. “Hungry?”
“Starved.”
We went silent until Swede placed a plate and a mug of coffee in front of me.
“Listen, Nova.” Swede rested his elbows on the island. “Reaper is a good man. He may seem a little hard on you—”
I giggled.
“And stop that.” Swede crinkled his nose.
In that moment, I offered him the most innocent look I could muster. “Stop what?”
“Thinking dirty!”
I giggled again. “You started this.”
Swede smiled then continued. “He’s been burnt a few times. Don’t take it personal, okay?”
“He seems to get along with you just fine.”
“Yeah. We understand each other. And he knows no matter how loud he barks I will always have his back.”
I sighed and picked up a sausage with my fingers. “Fine. I’ll behave.” I bit into the sausage and chewed, my teeth sinking into the perfectly cooked meat. It’d been a while since I’d let myself enjoy a real breakfast. Most often than not, it was only because I forgot to eat anything. Other times, it was after a thorough case of self-loathing while pinching my love handles while staring with indifference at my reflection in the mirror. The people who mattered most to me thought I was beautiful. But, something I realized. They could tell me I was pretty until kingdom come, if I didn’t believe it, those words meant nothing.
I snagged another sausage off a pile sitting on the counter and bit into it.
“He thinks I deserve this, doesn’t he?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Reaper. He thinks I had this coming, doesn’t he?”
“No.” Swede’s massive shoulders rose and fell. “He’s being moody because loves his solitude. The faster he can get this thing solved, the sooner he can go home again. I almost feel sorry for the people responsible for this—almost.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, when Reaper is cranky—bad things happen.”
He didn’t have to explain that to me. If Reaper was anywhere as dangerous as Swede or the others, I knew precisely what Swede meant. “Doesn’t he get lonely? I mean—this town has one hundred and eighty-two souls in it. I’m sure the dating pool isn’t big. Doesn’t he want a woman he can…”
The fall of heavy footsteps silenced me and I shoved the rest of the sausage into my mouth. Swede smirked and went back to the stove.
“I’m just saying.” I continued with my mouth full. “It’s not normal.”
“Well, my beautiful Star.” Swede turned to look at Reaper. “Normal is boring.”
If Reaper suspected we were talking about him, he said nothing. Instead, he placed a bag on the counter close to me. “Do you have a cell?” he asked.
“Swede has it. It’s in pieces back in Montana.”
“Good,” he said. “Do you have any other technology the can be track? Tablet, laptop, another cell?”
“What do you think I am? A drug dealer?” I frowned. “I don’t need a second phone and I didn’t have time to grab anything else from my place.”
“Swede, can we hitch a ride back?” Reaper ignored my outburst. “Once there, I can rent something to get around.”
“Yeah.” Swede set a plate down for Reaper. “Eat. We bounce in—T minus ninety minutes.”
Hearing I would be heading back into the inferno broke me. I ate in silence—rather, I pushed the food around on my plate until I couldn’t take the silence anymore. I excused myself under the pretense of packing and fled the room as quickly as I could. In the bathroom, I brushed my teeth then packed the last of my things—which wasn’t much. With my head in the clouds, I brought my bag into the living room and set it by the door.
“You okay?” Swede asked.
“I don’t know the answer to that.” I replied, rubbing the back of a hand across my nose. “I’ll let you know if I’m still alive in a couple of weeks.”
Reaper said nothing. Swede tried reassuring me things would work out, but I needed the reassurance from Reaper. I wanted him to use those beautiful lips to whisper in my ears, to trace my skin. But even if he couldn’t, he could use them to speak—let me know he would protect me for I didn’t know what direction my demise would come from.
I sat in the front seat beside Swede who drove us out of Climax. Though I was in a lousy mood, I couldn’t help reading the other side of the sign. I la
ughed until I snorted.
“What’s so funny?” Reaper asked from the back seat.
“One side says Welcome to Climax. The other side says please come again.” I chortled. “Get it?”
I glanced over at Swede to find him chuckling which made me snicker. I didn’t dare look back at Reaper. The man had no sense of humor. The last time I made a dirty joke he had a stick up his ass about it. But I wasn’t going to let him ruin my one bit of fun because he was so stuffy. I gave myself permission to enjoy the joke for a little bit longer, then curled myself up as best I could and closed my eyes.
The drive from Climax to Swift Current took a little over an hour. I kept my attention out the window even though there wasn’t much of anything to see. We stopped once, so I could use the bathroom and buy a couple bags of potato chips and a pack of gum. I didn’t spring for drinks because I doubt we would be able to stop so I could go the bathroom again soon.
After stepping out of the store, I walked up to Reaper who was staring in the direction we’d come and tapped him on the shoulder. When he finally looked at me, his brown eyes held a storm that frightened me to my very core. I swallowed the fear and extended a chocolate bar to him.
A small smile traced his thick lips. But the moment it appeared it disappeared. For a moment I wondered if it was only my wishful thinking. He accepted the candy, his long fingers grazing mine, forcing me to bite back a whimper.
Everything about this man could make me explode in the best ways.
“Okay guys.” Swede’s voice dragged me from my haze. “Let’s go.”
We were right on time for the chopper to fly us into Montana. At the spot it waited, gassed up and ready to go, Swede stopped to speak with the pilot and soon we were piled in and lifting off.
Flying in a helicopter hadn’t beem my thing. Eventually, after being a reporter for as long as I had been, it became a part of my job description. I still hated them. I just didn’t lose my mind anymore when it came to getting on board.
The space in the chopper seemed smaller because of Reaper, but I didn’t mind. I sat across from him, staring out the glass while he watched me. I didn’t have to look at him to know he was watching. His eyes roamed me like a forbidden caress, passing over my forehead, down the side of my face. After a while, it became too much so I closed my eyes, pretending I was asleep.
“Where are you going to start?” Swede asked. “I know you’ll have your work cut out for you.”
“Her place.” Reaper’s voice was soft, contemplative like everything else he’d said or done since we’d met. In that moment I realized, everything about him was deliberate, calculated, controlled.
“Why there?” Swede asked.
“If they’ve been following her as long as she believes they are, there is something there.”
“You’re saying they were in her place?”
“I hope not. There’s nothing like having strangers roaming through your private space, touching your things without your permission. It’s violating.”
“Yeah—there’s almost no going back after that.”
“Amen, brother.” Reaper’s voice was a rumble.
The way he spoke then showed me a different side of him—a caring side. It was one he probably would never show me.
I remained still, pretending, hoping he would say something else. In my adult life, people rarely say nice things about me. Even when they gave me awards for my work, the compliment were backwards, an insult wrapped in sweetness. Strange, they thought me good enough or the ward but too dumb to know what they were doing. After a while, I stopped showing up to accept them.
I needed to show them I didn’t need or want their approval.
Shit—that only added to the list of people who wanted me dead.
I did fall asleep then, but it didn’t last long. The flight back seemed shorter and soon we were on the ground. Hank was there with an extra SUV. He hugged me tightly then cradled my face.
“They’ve been good to you, right?” Hank “Montana” Patterson asked with a smile.
“So far.” I replied.
I accepted one more squeeze then stepped back.
“I brought you a ride.” Montana extended keys to Reaper. “Did Swede talk to you about your fee?”
“Yes. But, Ms. Shuman and I have an agreement.” Reaper turned to glance at me. “My fee is covered.”
“Um…” Montana glanced from Reaper to me but he didn’t push it. “Are you carrying?”
Reaper nodded. “Always.”
“Good,” Montana said. “Check in and holler if you need any help. We always have a guy floating around. There will be backup if you need it.”
“I appreciate that,” Reaper said.
“In the mean time, I should get going.” Swede told me. “Duty calls.”
To say goodbye, I walked Swede to his truck while Reaper spoke with Montana. My nerves were pulsing through me, causing my stomach to cramp. Still, I kept that to myself.
“Don’t worry, Star. Reaper is good at what he does.” Swede reassured me. “Remember what I said…”
“He doesn’t mean to be an asshole. Got it.”
Swede laughed and kissed my forehead. “Sure, paraphrasing, I see.”
I crinkled my nose but before I could say anything else, Montana joined us. I said my goodbyes and stepped out of the way so they could drive off. It took some doing to turn and face Reaper. When I did, he was seated on the hood of the SUV, legs propped on the grill with this thick thighs accentuated by his jeans.
“Ready?” Reaper asked. “I put your bag in the back.”
“Not really. But I don’t really have a choice.” I walked by him to open the SUV’s passenger side door. “The sooner we can figure this out, the faster you can get back to your hermit existence.”
“I’m starting to think you’re jealous.” Reaper hopped down and walked to the driver’s side.
“Of you? Hardly.” I slammed the door and pulled on my seatbelt.
By the end of this ordeal, if I was alive, I will pick up a new hobby—drinking.
Though we didn’t have much to say to each other at what would be our home for a while, we sat around, picking at dried fruits. The crunch filling the silence, threatened to drive me mad.
“Why did you leave the SEALs?” I finally broke the quiet.”
“Looking for a story, Mouthpiece?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why not? It’s what you are, isn’t? You never minded before.”
“I don’t like anyone calling me that—especially you.”
He leveled his brown gaze on me, expressionless, burning through my soul. “And why am I so different?”
“That’s a dumb thing to ask.” I tossed another dried date into my mouth and bit into it. I had forgotten the horrible taste and frowned. Still, I chewed and swallowed. “But to answer your question—you just are”
Reaper said nothing. He turned to stare at the wall across from us.
“I get it,” I said. “You don’t trust me.”
“Don’t take it personal, Doll. You’re not that special.”
He left me alone in the space then and I couldn’t seem to stop my heart from breaking. I barely knew him, but Reaper’s words tore through me like the world’s sharpest blade.
Maverick “Reaper” Forge
Star’s house was Star. From the paintings hanging on the wall, to the lack of family photos, to the butterflies flying free on the wall behind her bed—all of it told me of a person who didn’t have much love in her life. I would have been in the same boat—except I had the Protectors.
The sterile way the guestrooms sat, with sheets over the furniture spoke to a lack of friends and an almost impossible social circle. When I went through other people’s places, I always had a sense of invading their privacy. With Star, there wasn’t much of anything to invade.
In the bedroom, I trailed my fingers along the side of the few pieces of furniture there and looked behind a picture frame on
the wall. The lighting in the ceiling had no way of removing it without leaving a mark and the carbon monoxide detector is a high tech one that made all sort of computer reports to the fire station if anyone tried tampering with it.
The bedroom was clean of any surveillance devices.
I then focused my attention on the kitchen. The room sat open with the living room and dining room. And it told me she didn’t have any friends with children who visited often. Everything was a pristine white and light blue. The cushions sat perfectly on the sofa, the glass figurines were low enough for a child to get at. The painting over the fireplace of a giant orange and black butterfly didn’t surprise me for there seem to be a theme with the creatures.
One picture frame seemed out of order. All the others were perfectly set yet this one was askew. I made a mental note of it, finished my initial search and headed for the kitchen. Here, her personality screamed at me. Everything was stainless. The oven and fridge seemed brand new.
“Did you just renovate?” I asked her.
“No. Why?”
I glanced back to where she stood at the door with her arms folded and shrugged one shoulder. “No reason.” I traced my finger behind the fridge, just at the edge then continued my slow, methodical search and run through of the place.
Once I was satisfied, I led her out of the house, along a back alleyway and to where I’d parked the SUV. We climbed in and I closed the door. “So, what I didn’t want to have happened has.”
“What’s that?” She asked.
“Someone has been in your house.”
“How do you know?”
“There’s a device behind one of the frames in your living room,” I explained, glancing into the rearview mirror. “There’s one in your kitchen under the rim of the island, the end toward the back door, and there’s one in your bathroom upstairs on top of the medicine cabinet.”
I gave her a moment to sort of absorb the news.
“I’m assuming they couldn’t get the light fixtures down to put anything in them because of the way they are set up. But your house is wired for sound.”
“They were in my house.” It was more of a statement than a question on her part. “They were there, in the one place I consider sacred to me. How am I supposed to get over that?”
Fear the Reaper: Brotherhood Protectors World Page 3
