Her gaze strayed to Steele. "I'm not stupid. Something's up involving me. I'm not going through that again. I won't let any of you put me through that." She sounded weak to her own ears, weak and shaky, but she hoped her determination came through. She would fight them every inch of the way. A part of her was screaming at her to shut up, to pretend everything was fine, go with the flow, and when she had lulled them into a false sense of security, make a break for it, but terror was mounting and she couldn't help blurting out her resolve.
"Anya. Look at me." Reaper went to her, one knee on the bed, bending close so she was forced to look into his eyes. "I stand in front of you. That's my solemn word. Ask anyone. I never go back on it. No one will touch you again. Not one of my brothers. Not one of my sisters, and no outsider. You're under my protection. That's my promise to you. You got me? You understand?"
She searched his eyes. His face. Those beautiful features that were cut by numerous scars. Such a gorgeous man. So broken and damaged. Could she believe him? Would he really give her what he was telling her he would? She saw sincerity. She heard it in his voice.
Did it make her weak to want to forgive something so unforgivable? What kind of woman had the capacity to do that? And what kind of life would she have if she truly were able to forgive him? One with the club? She wanted to believe Reaper, and maybe she was beginning to, but she knew she wouldn't fit in. She just had to bide her time. Get stronger. Get some clothes . . . Very slowly she nodded.
"Then settle. It's a meeting. I'll find out what the problem is and I'll come back and let you know how we intend to fix it, if that's what you want. But be careful of asking. Sometimes the truth isn't easy," he cautioned.
She found she could breathe again. She nodded and looked past him to Steele. The man was young to be the vice president of the club. He was younger than Reaper. She had the feeling she knew why Reaper was called Reaper, but Steele? What did that mean?
"Anya." Steele addressed her. "I hope you're feeling better."
She looked away from him. He'd been there. They'd all been there. Now he, like Reaper, wanted it to be over. Maybe the pain was easing, but the fact that it had been done and done collectively, they'd all stood by and watched, she'd never get over.
"I felt like an insect pinned to a board while all of you watched him torture me. I felt like it wouldn't have mattered if I'd died like that. You all would have just sat there watching the show. So, no, I'm not feeling better." She could be a bitch and she let that part of her loose out of self-preservation.
"I can imagine it felt that way to you," Steele said. "I'm sorry you're hurting. There was no one in that room who felt good about what happened. All of us wanted to stop it and all of us wish it had never happened. I know that doesn't go very far to make you feel any better, but it is the truth."
He disappeared out of the doorway, and Reaper sank down onto the bed next to her. "Did it really feel like that?"
"Yes." She wasn't letting him off the hook. She could tell by the scars he'd covered with multiple tattoos that he'd been tortured. Maybe to the club members, what Absinthe had put her through wasn't meant to torture, was just a means to an end, but it was enough to show her these people didn't include her in their circle.
"I want you to remember what I said, Reaper. I meant every word. You and the rest of them are never doing that to me again. I'll find some way to stop you."
"I hear you, Anya." He reached for her hair, ran his fingers through the strands as if fascinated by the dark mass. "You remember what I said and we'll be fine."
They weren't going to be fine, not ever again. Already the pills were easing the ache in her head and she wanted to run while she could, but Reaper was right when he said she had nowhere to go. Her car had seen better days and had finally decided to give up the ghost. Ghost. She shivered and rubbed her hands down her arms. Those men were scary in a different way than the club members were.
"Do the men from the Ghost Club really have a woman right now?"
His eyes went on alert. It was strange how fast his demeanor changed, going from sweet to all business. "Why do you ask?"
"I was thinking about my car and it reminded me of the club where I worked and what those men did to my roommate. They didn't kill her outright, Reaper. They hurt her as much as they could before they let her die. At some point, they had to know she wasn't me, but they still continued."
"If you worked for them, wouldn't they recognize you?"
She shook her head. "These men weren't ever in the club. I hadn't seen them before."
"Wait." Reaper rubbed his jaw. "I'm confused. You saw these men, but they were never in the bar where you worked."
She shook her head. "No, as far as I know they were never in the club, but I saw them as I was coming home. They were getting off the elevator in my apartment building. I knew they were affiliates of the club though. They wear cuff links. Little gold ghosts. When I first saw the manager of the club's cuffs, I thought they were cool. I remember I even said something about them to him."
Reaper shook his head, annoyed with himself. He'd missed that. The two men attempting to take apart the Mayhem president's wife and daughter had worn suits. He hadn't thought to check cuff links. It was a good observation. "You think they have a hit team?" It was not only possible but probable. They would be men not used to wearing jeans and tees in a bar. His heart began a slow acceleration. "Last night, those three men Alena sat with briefly. Had you ever seen them before?"
She sat up, her eyes going wide. That was his woman. Smart. Catching on fast. "Those men . . . The meeting Steele wants you to go to. They may have been here for me."
"Even if they have found you, they'll never get to you. You're safe. Every man will fight for you. Lena and Alena too. The entire club."
"And who will keep me safe from them?"
Her voice broke his heart. "I will. Always. You can trust that."
The sheet slid down her soft skin to pool around her waist. She had full breasts. He hadn't had the opportunity to touch them, to feast on them. He'd thrown those chances out the window. Sitting there, looking at her, there was no resisting that temptation, not even when his mind went to the ugly possibility that those men had come to find Anya, not Czar and Blythe. Especially not when that was a possibility.
He had to find a way to make her want to stay. He wasn't good with words. He didn't know how men were supposed to act in a relationship. But he knew her body wanted his. He could see the desire in her eyes, feel it in the fine tremor that went through her.
He cupped the soft weight of her breasts in his hands, his thumbs sliding over her nipples in a whisper. "Sometimes, Anya, I can't breathe when I see you." He gave her truth when he would normally have kept his mouth shut.
Her breath hitched. She should have stopped him, but she didn't. Her eyes went wide and she bit her lower lip, but she didn't protest.
Reaper wrapped one arm around her back and bent his head. Taking his time. Giving her every opportunity to say no, but she remained silent. His mouth moved over the top curve of her tit. So soft. He felt his heart beat in his cock. He was exposed. He didn't want her to put her hands on him, not yet, not until he knew she'd be safe, but he couldn't resist the temptation of tasting her.
He nipped her skin, felt her body tremble in his arms. His tongue flicked her nipple. Her breath shuddered out. His mouth closed over her breast and he suckled strongly. Flattened her nipple against the roof of his mouth. Danced, flicked, sucked, then brought his teeth into the play. Her arms went around his head, cradled him to her, fingers stroking his hair while her body arched, offering him what he wanted. A small little cry broke from her.
She was sensitive. Responsive. He loved that. Her body really did belong to him. He wasn't alone in suffering that. His was all hers. It always would be. He hadn't ever responded to a woman the way he did to her. His mouth left her breast and he kissed his way up her throat, his tongue swirling over the pulse there before he trailed fire up to her lips
.
He kissed her with everything he was. Man. Beast. Killer. Biker. Hers. Every single cell in his body belonged to her. She'd branded him, and along with the colors he wore on his back, he wanted her brand right over his heart. Her name tattooed right across it. Fire ran down his spine. Flames settled in his belly, roaring there. Burning spears pierced his skin and a firestorm hit his cock and balls. She did that with her kisses. He had barely started and she'd ignited an inferno beyond anything he'd ever felt.
A knock had him lifting his head to glare at his brother. "A little busy right now," he snapped, his thumb sliding back and forth across her nipple. His mind was on her lush body, and her fantastic tits that rivaled a perfect ass. His head was roaring and his cock raging. He didn't have time to put up with a bunch of bullshit from his brother.
Savage nodded solemnly. "I see that. Nevertheless, Alena sent me ahead of her. She wanted to know if Anya wants coffee or tea. I'm just the messenger, don't kill me."
Reaper glared at him. Anya's fingers slipped slowly from his hair as if she was working to keep them from being seen. She caught the edge of the sheet and brought it up over her breasts. Reaper hated to see them covered and wished he had a knife handy to part his brother's hair. She was suddenly tense, and he glanced down at her. She was completely covered. He knew she wasn't the same way they were about nudity. The tension running through her had nothing to do with nudity and everything to do with Savage being in the room. She looked as if she found the hem on the sheet very interesting, refusing to look up at his brother.
"Bad timing." He said it gruffly.
Savage shrugged. "Don't think it much matters when you're around her. Tea or coffee, Anya?"
"Coffee. Black." She shifted her body just slightly to put Reaper squarely between them.
Reaper liked that. Liked that she used him for protection, but he didn't like that she thought she would need it just because Savage came into the room. Her voice was polite. Pleasant. A mere whisper of sound.
"Would you get me the flannel? I put it here somewhere."
He liked that she wanted his shirt, that something of him would be surrounding her. Obediently he found it and handed it to her. She dropped the sheet and slid into the arms of the shirt. He caught her hands. "Don't button it, baby. Just bring the edges together." He slid under the sheet with her. Close, his leg tangling with hers. Shoulders touching.
She hesitated and then dropped her hands. "Reaper. We aren't going to have a thing."
They were going to have a thing. He just had to figure out the best way to go about it. "Not sure what you mean by that, babe. We aren't going to fight, if that's what you mean. I plan to give you everything you've ever wanted, so there isn't going to be any need to fight."
He slipped his hand inside the open shirt and caressed her tit. "Can't make up my mind which I like best. Your tits or your ass. You're so fuckin' gorgeous there's no way to choose."
She shook her head, color sweeping up her neck into her face. She leaned into his hand, and he used his fingers and thumb to stroke her nipple. Gently. Barely there. His touch whispering. Lulling her. Watching her face. God, he wanted her. Not momentarily. Not just for her body--he wanted to wake up to her. To go to sleep with her. He wanted to hear that laugh of hers all day long.
"I mean, I'm going to tell Czar to take his job and shove it."
"That's okay, you don't want to work. I've got money. Enough for both of us. That house is going to take some work." Deliberately he misunderstood her. "Needs your touch."
His finger and thumb stroked and then tugged. She gasped, and he tugged a little harder. Pinched down. Her body shuddered with need. His fingers went back to stroking. "Want to put my mouth on you. Go to sleep like that. Wake you up eating you. Nothing tastes so good, Anya. Like candy."
"Reaper, I can't stay here. Not after what happened. I get that you all thought it was necessary, it isn't even that. It's the club. It's the fact that I'll always be second to everyone else. Don't you think I want to stay with you? I do. I want this as much as or more than you. But as much as you want my body, you don't feel the same way I do. Not about a relationship. I told myself one night would be enough and I'd walk. Maybe I could have then, but I was fooling myself. I'm halfway in love with you, and you're pulling me in deeper."
He'd never been so happy to hear anything in his life. "Why do you think I'm not committed? You know what happened last night, so aside from that . . ."
"Um, really?" She pushed his hand off her breast and turned slightly in the bed to glare at him.
She didn't realize the action parted the shirt more, exposing one breast. That, her hair wild and tumbling around her, her mouth so close and her green eyes sparkling at him, sent another surge of heat right through his cock. She could get him going without even trying.
"Enlighten me." Before he jumped her. Talking was not his forte. Action was, and he wanted action.
"You left, remember? Just walked out without a single word. Did you think that made me feel like you cared? And then you did it a second time. Walked me to the bathroom and you were gone. Then again you left after you jacked off all over me."
"There's an explanation."
"Enlighten me." She used his own words against him.
He looked away from her. "Anya, sometimes, a man has history. Things in his past he doesn't want the woman he cares about to know. This is one of those things. I'm working on it. And I'm working toward maybe telling you one day, but you'll have to be patient with me. I never thought I'd tell you the things I told you last night."
"Worse than what you told me last night?"
Her voice was soft. Melting into him. Soothing him. She didn't push. She didn't demand. She just dropped one hand on his bare thigh and rubbed gently, comforting him.
"Worse. For me, far worse."
"Okay, honey, we'll drop it for now."
"You going to tell me if you wore me all day on your skin?"
"No." She leaned her head back against the headboard.
"No?" He was going to get it out of her. Just not then. "Here's Alena." The aroma of the food heralded her arrival. "Best cook ever." Because he knew it mattered to her, he pulled the flannel closed over her breast, depriving him of the view but earning him a quick, grateful look from under her lashes.
Alena stepped into the room carrying a large tray. Savage followed her with two full coffee mugs. "Can your eyes take a dim light, Anya?" he asked while Alena set down the tray.
Anya nodded. "I think. The headache is much better this morning, and I just took some more pain pills."
The hurt was still in her voice, but the anger was gone. Reaper would have preferred it the other way around. More, she was averting her eyes again, not looking at either Savage or Alena. Her body was tense against his. Small tremors moved through her. He put one hand on her thigh to try to help ease the anxiety, but she moved slightly away from him.
Alena dished up her famous eggs Benedict and toast, handing each of them a smaller tray to make it easier. She took a seat opposite them, the one nearest the door.
"Anya, I should have stood with Reaper last night and protested. I know it was important, I'm not saying it wasn't. We can't lose Czar or Blythe. You have no idea what Czar has done for us, how many times he saved us and from what, but I still should have backed Reaper. Blythe is trying to teach us how to be better people." She hesitated. "We didn't learn like other people how to . . ." She broke off again, frustrated.
"Thank you," Anya said quietly. Very politely. "I appreciate what you're trying to say."
Reaper frowned. He didn't like that she still found a way not to look at Alena, but there was nothing he could do about it, not without calling attention to it.
"It's just that we don't want you to leave. None of us. Not one single person in the club. You're important to Reaper and that makes you family to us. I wanted to give you the heads-up that Blythe is on her way over. Reaper, you might want to eat fast, dress and go to the meeting. Blythe is
going to stay with Anya."
"Blythe?" Reaper's heart did a little stutter of happiness. Blythe was magic. Blythe could maybe fix this when the rest of them didn't have a clue how. And it needed fixing. For all his attempts, Anya still, despite her politeness, wasn't looking at any of them.
"Yes," Alena said, relief sliding into her voice. "Blythe."
"These eggs are fuckin' good, Alena."
"My sentiments exactly," Anya echoed in that same polite voice. "And the coffee is excellent as well."
"Coffee isn't really my specialty. I was telling Czar we needed a little coffee shop or drive-through. Something really small. His oldest daughter, Darby, could work in it. She's been saying she wants a job. Blythe and Czar want her close. If she worked here, we could all keep an eye on her and she'd be safe," Alena said.
"I didn't have a chance to meet her," Anya said.
"She's a great kid," Alena told her.
"Wild as hell," Savage commented. "We're always pulling her out of the parties and taking her ass home."
"She's a kid," Alena protested, "she's supposed to party."
Savage didn't say anything because they all heard the sound of a woman's voice laughing. Reaper nearly threw the plate of mostly eaten eggs onto the bed and jumped up, grabbed his jeans and stepped into them. Anya took her cue from him and buttoned the flannel. When Reaper turned to face the door, he gave Anya a good view of the tattoo on his back. It was the same as the one on his jacket. The tree, crows and skulls. Someday he was going to tell her the significance. Now wasn't the time. He'd seen the way she avoided looking at Savage and the colors he wore.
Czar brought Blythe right into the room. "Brought my woman to see yours, Reaper," he said. "She's going to stay with Anya while we talk. It's important or I wouldn't pull him away, Anya." He stepped closer to the bed. "How are you feeling this morning?"
The moment Czar came close, Anya moved subtly away. Her entire body was stiff and vibrating with tension. Reaper reached for her hand, brought it to his thigh, positioning his body to the side of the bed and a little in front of her. He knew Czar would never hurt her, but he couldn't let go of his resentment toward the man. Anya's strong negative reaction fed his own bitterness. Czar meant everything to him. Father, brother, mentor, best friend, and this was the first time they'd fought over anything other than Czar's security. Czar still had his woman. He hadn't seen her torn apart by his brothers and sisters.