by Jamie Begley
Reaper might not have wanted to be saddled with watching Ginny, but it didn’t mean he went into it half-assed. He had spent the night finding out everything he could about the band.
Cash shifting irritably on the truck seat had Reaper refocusing on him. Reaper’s lack of concern at the warning was prodding Cash’s temper. The brother might be married and a father, but he had remained just as loyal to The Last Riders, continuing to sit there while Reaper antagonized him by tuning out most of what he was being advised. When Cash flexed his fingers, as if wishing he had his brass knuckles, Reaper knew he reached the end of Cash’s patience. As much as he would welcome the opportunity for a fight to take his mind off the upcoming flight, he really didn’t want to enter the plane sporting another bruise on his face or nursing a broken rib, which was Cash’s favorite target when he let his fists do the talking for him.
“Why did the whole band fly in for the wedding?” Reaper could imagine the price tag of flying a private plane. It seemed curious to him why Kaden would foot the bill just to play at a small-town wedding. While there had been at least a hundred people there, it wasn’t the numbers they were used to performing for. T.A.’s new husband, Dalton, must have made it worthwhile for the group to make the trip.
“Kaden’s wife is friends with Penni, and Sawyer has also grown close to Grace, Dalton’s daughter, since she started working with Penni. Shade said that they met Dalton several times, and they offered to sing at his wedding.”
Cash’s explanation fit what little he knew about the friendships. When Dalton and his son had visited the club before he and T.A. had started dating, Reaper had kept to his room or rode his bike. The only interaction he had with any of them had been with Calder when he joined them.
Calder’s wife, Vida, was friends with Sawyer and Lily, Kaden and Shade’s wives, respectively. The two couples always stayed with Lily and Shade when they visited, each time without any of the band members. If he wasn’t looking for the man who was stalking Ginny, he wouldn’t have given the disparity another thought. Every aspect of Ginny’s life was going to be looked at through a magnifying glass. To find the stalker, he would need to be able to read Ginny’s life like a map in order to expose the weakness.
While he remained alone during their stay, he still ate meals with The Last Riders and witnessed the interactions between the three couples. They might have become friends because of Penni, but the affection between the three women seemed more like sisters than friends. He didn’t give a damn about the secrecy, making no attempt to question Shade or Viper about their past relationships. Guarding Ginny brought it to the forefront as just another detail that needed to be ironed out. Reaper would question Viper once he had the opportunity to gleam more information about them for himself.
Once upon a time, he would have asked for the information he needed. Now he was smarter and wiser.
Actions spoke louder than words. If he had delved deeper into Vincent Bedford’s personal life, instead of only taking his business into account before trusting most of The Last Riders’ money, then his captivity would never have happened. He had allowed his personal safety to be jeopardized, something he only had himself to blame.
Staring out the windshield, Reaper felt goosebumps spread up the length of his arms as Ginny emerged from the limo. Unlike the other women getting on the plane, she was dressed comfortably in jeans paired with a bulky grey sweater. The jeans weren’t form-fitting; instead, they were loose and faded. Nothing about her would make a man stand up and take notice, until she opened her mouth to sing. Her exceptional gift shone like a beam, highlighting the spectacular beauty from within. The beam had hit him with the force of a Mack truck.
Reaper hadn’t felt a spark of life in his dick—that hadn’t been brought about by the drugs forced onto him by his ex-captors and Slate’s sadistic purposes—in so long that he mistakenly assumed he would never experience the same sexual desires from before. When she touched his cheek, the sexual response had stunned him, making it impossible to move away from her gentle touch. The worst part of his inexplicable behavior was the asinine notion that Ginny had somehow imparted a fragment of her lifeforce, latching onto him as if she had always been there inside of him.
Her touch had reached out and stroked a scarred soul that no longer believed in human goodness. The fragment had delved deep, trying to bring a fresh burst of oxygen to the starved Gavin. Too late to resurrect the man he once was, Reaper had to come to grips with the myriad of feelings and longings that Ginny invoked. What little research he found out last night before grabbing a couple of hours sleep exposed a woman opposite of those he was attracted to. If Ginny likened herself to a package, it was one he had no interest in opening beyond being able to find out who her stalker was so he could fly his ass back home.
“Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think.”
He looked over to see Cash’s encouraging nod toward the plane.
Reaper reached for the strap of his duffel bag.
“You’re not taking many clothes with you.” Cash gave him a look filled with misgivings. It was the same one that Viper had given him when he had refused the offer to drive him to the airport.
“Don’t need much.”
Cash’s rugged features filled with annoyance. “Planning on doing something stupid so you’ll be on the next flight back? If you are, save Viper the headache and tell him before you get on the plane.”
“I already did.”
“What did he say?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Reaper glanced at the hands gripping the steering wheel. “You want a piece of me too?”
Cash loosened his grip. “No. What I want is for you to get your act together.”
“You and everyone else needs to realize the old Gavin is gone. He’s not coming back.”
“Brother—”
“Do not call me brother,” Reaper snapped, then heard Cash’s frustrated sigh.
“You’re the same man I served with, no matter how much you think you aren’t, Reaper. We’ve all changed. Fuck, even you can see we’ve all changed. Did we go through the same shit you had to go through? Fuck no, but damn, take it easy on us. If we had known, there isn’t a brother among us who wouldn’t go back in time and take your place. But since we can’t, don’t minimize that each of us would cut off one of our hands just to see something as simple as a smile from you.”
“I don’t have one fucking thing to smile about anymore.” Dully, Reaper put the strap of his duffle over his shoulder as he prepared to get out of the truck.
“I would have found a way to take myself out if what happened to you happened to me. I’m man enough to admit I don’t have your strength.” Cash flicked the door lock so Reaper couldn’t get out when he reached for the door handle. “But brother, you fucking made it out alive. None of us would have accomplished that, and you know that’s a fucking fact.”
“You done?” Reaper held back the retort he wanted to give—that none of them would have been stupid enough to let Vincent Bedford and Memphis take them down. He didn’t have to say it, though, because they all knew those two men would never have gotten the better of them. No, he was the only Last Rider who didn’t deserve the jacket on his back. He never had.
The friendship he once shared with The Last Riders was once the most important thing in his life. Now he didn’t feel much of anything, except the shame of what had been done to him. He was no longer worthy of being a Last Rider, and it was scab on his soul that he wasn’t strong enough to tell them that to their faces and give Viper his jacket back—again . Every day he swore he would do just that, and then he would get on his bike and leave to make his way on his own. Every day he failed, unable to leave the last part of his old life behind, because he knew if he did, he would no longer have any reason to keep breathing—except for vengeance. He had to survive long enough to collect the retribution owed to him.
Every time he rode away from the clubhouse, he could see the fear etched on his brother’s face t
hat it would be the last time he would see him. As much as he wanted to tell himself that he didn’t give a fuck about anything or anyone, he lied. He did care. What little emotion left inside of him that kept him sane was for Viper, who he couldn’t bring himself to cause any more pain. Which was why he was going to suck it up and get on that plane, despite every primal instinct in his body telling him not to.
Was he strong and mentally sound enough to protect the woman that Viper was trusting him with? Was he determined enough not to cave in the face of any drugs?
Cash gave a frustrated sigh as he disengaged the lock mechanism. “Then go. It’s easier to talk some sense into Greer Porter than into you.”
He used the opportunity to escape the close confines of the truck without giving Cash a backward glance.
He felt the brothers’ need to help. Each had tried in their own way to break through the barricade he surrounded himself within. They wanted to be able to shoulder some of the tormenting memories of what had been forced upon him. Reaper got that. If the shoe were on the other foot, he would do the same.
How could he tell them that their attempts were doomed for failure? He would have to open a tiny fraction of his barricade, and that wasn’t going to happen. They didn’t need the shit festering in his head spilling over into the way the brothers treated him. He would rather have them think he was a basket case than see the pity in their gazes.
As he approached the plane and the man waiting by the steps, he saw Kaden Cross’s eyes flicker over him, taking in the new arrival who would be joining his entourage. Cross’s expression didn’t change seeing the haircut or The Last Riders’ jacket, and his once-over didn’t stop until he had taken in every detail of Reaper’s appearance before meeting his eyes.
“You must be Reaper.”
Gavin gave the lead singer of Mouth2Mouth a curt nod, not taking the man’s extended hand. “Yes.”
Unfazed at having his greeting ignored, Cross motioned for him to go up the steps. “If you’re ready, we’ll take off. You’re the last to arrive. Nickel is already on board.”
“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” Reaper forced his leaden legs toward the small stairs, moving slightly aside instead of going up. “You first.” Reaper drew his narrowed gaze away from Cross, taking in the surrounding tarmac and the trees bordering the small airstrip, while keeping the other man in his peripheral vision.
“You can store your bag in one of the overhead compartments,” Cross said laconically as he went past him.
Reaper climbed the short flight of steps, steeling himself to board the plane. He was even able to control a flinch as the door closed and locked.
He surveyed the few empty seats that were unoccupied. Ignoring Nickel’s motion for him to sit next to him, Reaper walked past him and the curious members of the band who openly watched as he made his way past them. Unlatching the overhead bin, he shoved his duffel bag inside before taking off his jacket. Already feeling himself wanting to rip the door open and get his ass off the plane, the emotions of being trapped had his heart doing palpitations. Sitting down in an empty seat near the rear, he buckled the seatbelt before he worked himself into a full-fledged panic attack. Concentrating on his breathing, he imagined himself swimming in the cool depths of the ocean, where he always felt more at home than on land. Finally, he was able to dampen his racing heart.
Gaining control just as he heard the engine start, he focused his attention from the window to the other passengers on board, instead of watching the wheels leave the pavement of the landing strip.
Recognizing the band members next to him who were staring curiously at him, Gavin moved his gaze away from D-Mon to the woman who was sitting in front of the bass player. Ginny was the only one who hadn’t spared him a glance as she stared out the window. He could tell she didn’t want to be on the plane any more than he did. From her bleak-looking profile, he didn’t think it was for the same reason. The singer didn’t want to leave Kentucky and her friends behind.
Viper told him the only reason she left Kentucky in the first place was because the home that she worked so hard to buy from Willa had burned down. Now that she earned enough money to buy herself a new one in the town she loved, Shade said the fear of drawing the stalker to Treepoint kept her from returning permanently. She was also refusing to go back to Queen City for the same reason.
Gavin clutched the armrests as the luxurious airplane started inching forward, biting back his shout to let him off the metal prison, and closing his eyes as the engine grew louder. His head fell back on the headrest as he felt the plane silky glide into the air and the engine turned into an almost silent purr.
Unable to prevent himself, he stared out into the blue horizon as the plane flew higher, cursing Rider and Shade inwardly at forcing him into accepting the job. The rational part of his brain said he didn’t blame them, believing the stalker was trying to find another way through their protection by turning their focus on their own women instead of Ginny, while the other part of his brain didn’t give a fuck. He just wanted his ass to be on the ground.
A soft touch on his hand had his attention returning from staring blankly ahead, where he was mentally beating the fuck out of both men.
“Are you okay?”
Her soft query had him snatching his hand out from under hers.
“You shouldn’t have gotten out of your seat while the plane is climbing,” he snapped.
She tilted her head to the side. “That was twenty minutes ago.”
He jerked his head back to the window, seeing the billowing clouds below.
“Time passes when you’re having fun, doesn’t it?” she quipped.
“I don’t consider this fun.”
“I take it you don’t enjoy flying?”
Turning from the window, he glared at her. “I don’t enjoy being locked up, whether I’m in the sky or on the ground.”
For a split second, Reaper regretted being rude to Ginny when her skin paled and her lips trembled as if she didn’t know what to say next. The instinctual drive to keep everyone the fuck away from him had him reacting strongly toward her, even enabling her to sit down next to him without him noticing.
“I’m sorry, then, that I’m the reason you’re here.”
Fuck. Fuck. The hurt tone in her voice sliced through him like quicksilver. I’m not going to talk to her, Reaper told himself, trying to rebuff further conversation, hoping she would give up and return to her seat.
“It’s the last place you want to be, isn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Damn, his resolve hadn’t lasted three seconds.
The knowledge he had fucked up came when she relaxed back against the seat. Another streak of quicksilver shot through him, this time in a different area of his body, when a hint of her perfume filled his nostrils. Taylor had worn sweet, flowery scents, which he had considered a contraction of her personality. Ginny’s was fresh and clean, as if she had just stepped out of a shower.
The image of Ginny being in the shower naked slammed the brakes on the comparison of the two women.
“Would it help if I called and asked Viper to send someone else when we land?”
“No,” he muttered, relieved he was able to get the word out. At least he was getting better at forming words when she was near.
Congratulating himself, he tried to pretend she wasn’t there and gave rebuffing her a new go-around.
“Then you’re stuck with me.”
Was that a tinge of satisfaction he heard in her voice?
Despite his aloofness, the woman wasn’t exhibiting any irritation or any sympathy that he didn’t want to be on the plane. Ginny was unlike any woman he had ever met. She didn’t shy away from him when he was making it plain he wanted to be left alone. There wasn’t anything flirtatious in her attitude, either; she was being open and friendly without resorting to any feminine tactics to ease the discomfort of the situation. She wasn’t pretending to be something she wasn’t just to get him to be nicer
to her. He was beginning to understand why she had earned the respect of The Last Riders.
“For now.” The new go-around had lasted one second longer than the last one had.
“For now?”
“Until I find the person who’s been stalking you.” Which better be sooner rather than later if she was determined to talk him to death.
“What makes you think you’ll be able to find out who it is after most of the Predators and The Last Riders have tried?”
“Because whoever it is hasn’t dealt with me.”
Chapter Seven
“Gavin, wake up. We’re about to land.”
Jerking awake at the soft voice in his ear, his first reflex at waking up in the unfamiliar place was to bolt to his feet, but a warm hand pressed against his chest prevented the impulse from taking control. Instead, he glanced wildly toward the voice, finding Ginny’s compassionate gaze staring back at him.
“I fell asleep?”
“Yes. You went out like a light. At first, I thought you were ignoring me, but when Kaden came on the intercom to fasten our seatbelts and you didn’t move, I realized you were sleeping.”
He couldn’t believe he fell asleep with so many people around him, especially with Ginny so close. Hell, he couldn’t believe he had fallen asleep so easily anywhere. Usually, it took him hours to doze off, and then only for short bursts of time, which had him feeling as if he hadn’t gotten any sleep at all.
The last thing he remembered was staring out the window, wishing he had never answered Shade’s text the day of the wedding.
“Can I have my hand back? I need to fasten my seatbelt.”
Dumbly, he glanced down, finding her hand held in place against his chest. “Sorry,” he mumbled, feeling blood rush to his cheeks.
Her lips curled in an impish grin. “Anytime.”
Reacting as if he had been shot, he recoiled from her, moving as far away as he could get in his seat. “No, thanks.”
Hurt filled her eyes at his cutting remark.
