Chapter Five
Reaper knew he shouldkeep his eyes on the road.The night was still dangerous, even after the chaos they’d left behind.Cartel eyes lingered everywhere.You survived by paying attention to what was in front of you, and yet...
He stole another glance at Elena.She sat rigid in the passenger seat.Elena had wrapped her arms around herself and her knuckles were white where she gripped the strap of her overnight bag.
Her face was pale under the dash lights.Her eyes were too bright, like she was still bracing for impact that hadn’t come yet.A smear of dirt darkened her cheek.There was a thin cut at her temple where flying glass had caught her.
Reaper tightened his jaw.She hadn’t signed up for this.Elena wasn’t a player, or a soldier, or someone who understood the rules of violence.She was a nurse who’d done her job too well.A normal woman who’d been yanked into a nightmare because she refused to let a man die on her watch.
That should have been the end of it.Instead, here she was.In his truck and under his protection.She’d been dragged into Devil’s Crown business because he’d decided, unilaterally, that he wouldn’t let the cartel touch her.
He didn’t understand why that decision had come so fast or felt so absolute.Reaper had protected assets like witnesses and informants before.It was calculated, detached, procedural.
This wasn’t that.Every time she flinched at a sudden sound, something sharp twisted in his chest.Each moment her breath hitched, Reaper tightened his hands on the wheel like he wanted to crush whatever had scared her.
The urge to touch her, to reassure her physically, rode under his skin like an itch he didn’t know how to scratch.It was a possessive, unfamiliar and dangerous sensation.He told himself it was adrenaline, residual threat response, and nothing more.
Reaper was lying to himself.The Devil’s Crown clubhouse loomed out of the darkness, floodlights washing the compound in hard white glare.The gates slid open at his approach, a brother waving him through with a sharp look that went straight to the woman in his passenger seat.
Elena straightened, eyes widening as she took it all in.He knew what she saw, the rows of bikes, armed men, and the bright skull-and-crown insignia painted on concrete walls.
Her body language screamed reluctance.Reaper wondered, not for the first time, if bringing her here was a mistake.He hadn’t cleared this with King.Hell, Reaper hadn’t asked permission.He’d acted on instinct, the same way he always did when things went sideways.
However, this time, the consequences had a name and a heartbeat.He parked near the main building and killed the engine.The sudden silence rang loud.Elena didn’t move.
“It’s safe,” he said quietly, not sure if he was reassuring her or himself.“Inside, at least.”
She nodded once, stiffly.He got out first, scanning the yard out of habit before rounding to her side.When he opened the door, she hesitated, then took his offered hand.Her fingers were cold where they brushed his palm.
That simple contact hit him harder than the firefight had.He helped her down gently, steadier than he felt, then grabbed her overnight bag from the back.
As he led her toward the clubhouse, conversations slowed and heads turned.Curious stares followed them.Brothers leaned against railings, cigarettes forgotten between their fingers.Club women paused mid-laugh, eyes flicking from Elena to him and back again.
Reaper felt the weight of those looks because he’d never brought a woman here like this before.When he’d needed to scratch an itch, he’d gone to willing club women or disappeared into the night with a faceless hookup, clean and uncomplicated.This was different, and everyone could see it.
Elena wasn’t draped on his arm or smiling for attention.She walked close to him because she was scared, and somehow that made the stares sharper, more curious.Reaper ignored all of it.
He placed a firm hand at the back of Elena’s neck, not pushing, just guiding.The contact felt instinctive, like he was anchoring her to him, signaling to anyone watching that she was under his guard.
