Reaper’s Claim by Simone Elise
Reaper:
Abby:
Description
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Here is a short sample from the book:
I turned back to look at her. Her breathing was heavy as she leaned against the wall. Her eyes met mine, and that was it; she went into meltdown. Her tears flowed faster, and they weren’t stopping. I hated crying women more than I hated the fucking law, but I didn’t leave her.
“Come on, darling, calm down. He’s gone now.” I placed my hand on her shoulder, dropping my head so I could look into her blurry eyes.
I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. I stood there, looking more like a noob with every second that passed.
Her sobs soon turned into hysterics, causing her breathing to sharpen.
Fuck. What the hell do I do? I wished I had paid more attention to fucking Dr. Phil, or some other shitty daytime TV program.
I brushed the blonde hair from her face, which stuck to her pearly white skin. I had never seen anyone cry as much as her.
“Come on, darling, calm down.” I rubbed her shoulder, standing in front of her awkwardly. I was so far out of my fucking depth; I should have just stayed at the fucking rubbish bin.
She dropped her head onto my chest and I wrapped my arms around her, and she continued to weep, soon soaking my tee shirt with tears.
My heartbeat drummed faster. This young girl trusted me enough to let me touch her. She didn’t even know me, but she clung to me for dear life. Her small frame curved into my chest perfectly. I kept my arms wrapped around her, feeling like I was protecting her from the whole darn world.
“I… he…” she stuttered into my chest. “If you hadn’t come…” She pulled her head away from my chest and looked up at me. “Thank you.”
I stared down into her crystal blue eyes, which were framed by red puffy circles.
“Thank you, Kade.” Fat tears slid down her cheeks, but she kept her eyes locked on mine.
“You know me?” I would remember meeting her because she didn’t have a face or a body any man would ever forget.
“You’re Satan’s Sons Western Charter’s VP.” She swallowed sharply. “Everyone knows you.”
“Not everyone, sweetheart.” My lips twitched into a smirk, and I couldn’t stop myself from wiping underneath her eyes with the back of my sleeve. “You ok now?”
She nodded her head. “I think so.” Her long eyelashes blinked up at me. “Thanks, Kade. I owe you one.”
I could count on one hand how many people called me Kade: my mother, father, my brother, my Prez when he was pissed off, and this sweet girl.
I was called ‘Reaper’ before stepping into the VP position I was in charge of, ridding the world of dead weight.
“Do you want me to take you home?” I asked the girl, watching as she continued to wipe away angry tears. Though when I thought about it, I was far from a fit state to be in control of any motor vehicle.
How a sweet little thing ended up here, I didn’t know, but hopefully, this would teach her to stay the hell away from places like this and the people that dwelled in them.
“No.” She shook her head. “I live here.”
At the Satan’s Sons clubhouse? I looked her up and down again. She looked too young to be a club whore or as some refer to them, club property. She didn’t look like one either. She didn’t look like the type of girl that should be hanging around a clubhouse filled with dirty bikers. She looked like the type of girl a guy like me would never have a chance with.
“How old are you?” I asked her. I felt my curiosity build each time I stared down into those crystal blue eyes.
“Sixteen.” Her eyes locked with mine. “Why?”
If you were legal, baby girl… damn the gods for creating such temptation.
“Bit young to be hanging around here, aren’t you?” I placed my arm on the wall, keeping her there. Her eyes did not drop from mine once.
Darn, girl, you don’t even know how powerful those blue opals of yours are yet.
“Like I said, I live here.” She closed her eyes briefly and then looked down at the ground. “Can I ask something of you?”
She could ask me anything, and I would answer. Her beauty was worth going to war for. I could only imagine what she looked like in the sunlight. I was sure these dark shadows and the night sky were hiding most of her beauty from me.
“Sure, sweetheart, ask away.”
“Don’t tell my father.” She placed her hand on my chest. “He loves Trigger. Kim is just a fucking idiot.”
Who the fuck is Kim? More important, who the fuck was her father?
I was about to ask her both questions but stopped when someone called my name.
“REAPER!” Banger roared. His drunken arse walked around the corner.
I hurried to block her from Banger’s view. “What?” I roared up the alley at him.
“Prez wants ya.” He took a long drink of his beer and then tossed the bottle to the side.
I glanced back at the girl, but she wasn’t looking at me; she stared down at the ground. The black Metallica t-shirt gripping her body had worked its way up, exposing the soft skin of her midriff.
“Are you alright by yourself?” I asked. I really didn’t want to leave her, and that bothered me. Why the hell did I care if this girl was alright or not? I had done the gentleman thing—my duty to her was over, but still I didn’t move.
“Yep.” Her blonde hair fell to the side as she glanced up at me. “I’ll be fine.”
I didn’t believe her, but Banger snapped at me to hurry up. I nodded my head regretfully, taking three steps before pausing and looking back at her. “Pity you aren’t fucking legal.”
“The forbidden is always more desirable.” The corner of her lips twitched upward, and for the first time, I saw her smile. I knew right then it wasn’t something I would ever forget, and I wanted to punch myself for admitting that.
I nodded my head, shooting her a grin before walking up the alley to Banger, who was ranting about me taking my sweet time. I didn’t look back at her, but I fucking wanted to.
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