“They might if you’re dead,” he shot back.
The words hit harder than she expected.
She swallowed.“You don’t get to decide that,” she said.
Silence stretched between them.Reaper straightened slowly, uncrossing his arms.For a moment, she thought he might actually block the hallway.That he might reach out and stop her physically.The idea scared her.
The fact that part of her wondered what his hands would feel like if he did scared her more.
“No one’s ever told me what to do,” she said quietly.“Not my parents.Not the foster system, the hospital, and certainly not you.”
His nostrils flared.“This isn’t about control.”
“Then what is it?”she challenged.
He opened his mouth, then closed it again.For the first time since she’d met him, he looked uncertain.
“I’ve seen how this ends,” he said finally.“Good people think doing the right thing will protect them.It doesn’t.”
Her chest tightened.He stared at her like he wanted to argue, to drag her back into the room, to wrap his body around hers and keep the world out by force if necessary.She didn’t move, drop his gaze, or apologize.
“I’ll take you,” Reaper said at last.His voice was flat, controlled, but something in his eyes burned.“To the hospital.And back.”
The compromise surprised Elena.
She blinked.“You will?”
“Don’t make me regret it,” he replied.
The air between them shifted.They headed for the parking lot together, the morning sun already warm on the concrete.Elena walked beside him, aware of the way his presence changed the space around her.Some of the bikers gave her looks, curious and assessing.
Halfway across the lot, one of the MC brothers leaned against a truck, coffee in hand, grin sharp and lazy.
“Well I’ll be damned,” he said.“Morning, Reaper.Didn’t know you started escort services.”
Reaper didn’t break stride.He reached out, fingers closing around Elena’s upper arm, and drew her in against his side with a possessive ease that stole her breath.What was that about?
“She’s mine,” he said.“And she’s under my protection.”
His?What the hell?Elena then reminded herself Reaper had agreed to accompany her to the hospital.The grin slid right off the other biker’s face.He even lifted his hands slightly in surrender.It was interesting, Elena silently mused, that some of Reaper’s MC brothers were scared of him.
“Easy, brother.I was just curious,” the biker said.
Elena stiffened, heat flaring under her skin.She stepped out of Reaper’s hold, even as her pulse raced from the contact.This was getting ridiculous.
“I belong to no one but myself,” she said, meeting the MC brother’s gaze.“Got it?”
The man chuckled, holding up his coffee.“Message received, sweetheart.”
Reaper grunted, but he said nothing more.He simply turned and led her the rest of the way.The Harley waited at the edge of the lot, black and gleaming like a predatory animal at rest.Her stomach dipped.
“I’ve never...”she started, the words catching as she looked at the motorcycle.Up close, it looked even more imposing.All black steel and polished chrome, heat radiating from it like a living thing.
“You’ll be fine,” Reaper said, already reaching for a helmet.He pressed it into her hands with decisive certainty.“Get on.”
His confidence didn’t leave room for debate.That helped more than it should have.She swallowed, then swung her leg over the seat.It was narrower than she expected, her balance wobbling for half a second before the solid weight of the bike steadied her.
The engine vibrated beneath her thighs, a low, restless thrum that traveled straight up her spine.She adjusted awkwardly, suddenly hyper-aware of how close she was to him and how exposed that closeness felt.
