Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 143728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
He had found that out for himself after Taylor had come to see him.
The fantasy he built during his recovery had gotten him through the worst of the withdrawals. That fantasy of them together ended the day she came to see him.
As much as Taylor had sworn to love him, she had never been real with him about her wanting—no, needing—him to part ways with the Last Rider’s. She accomplished that with her current husband. When she had come to see him and refused to stay and talk with him, it had been a clean debridement, leaving him vulnerable and exposed as she walked away.
He didn’t remember what happened after she left. The doctor had a medical term, but the way Crazy Bitch had said it was more apt. He had bugged out and had to be medicated for three days; the next thing he knew Greer Porter was sitting with him. After Taylor left, he had realized she’d done him a favor by coming.
With that last illusion of him achieving a normal life gone, the love he had felt for her had been scrapped away leaving a scarred and hardened shell of a heart, whose only purpose was to pump ice-filled blood to an organ that no longer had the capacity to hold any lasting emotions for anyone, including himself.
Physically and emotionally he didn’t want anyone within touching distance of him, the only exception he made was Calder and Peyton. They had earned his trust, but even with them he kept the contact to a bare minimum.
He allowed Peyton a five-second hug, before he had to disengage himself. She looked at him proudly, dropping her hands to take his. “I was here for your first day, and I wanted to be here for your last.”
“I’ll never be able to repay you for what you’ve done for me.”
Pulling his hands away, he greeted Killyama. Unlike her mother, she made no attempt to touch him but examined him from hair to boots.
“I wouldn’t say you look fantastic, but you do look damn good. If Train and I weren’t already hooked-up, me and you could’ve had a thing.”
Reaper raised a brow.
Killyama was wearing skintight leather pants and T-shirt that said, Move Fucker, Or I’ll Run Your Ass Over. She also had a gun holstered on her hip.
“Excuse me, you can’t carry your weapon in here.” A security guard came out from behind the front desk.
“I didn’t see any signs that I can’t carry.”
“Personal weapons are supposed to be concealed.”
“Do you know how fucking hot it is out there?” she snarled.
“Ma’am, you need to leave, or I’ll be forced to take your weapon and call the police.”
“Call them. I’m not scared of Deputy Wannabe-A-Real-Cop.”
“Rae!” Peyton grabbed her daughter by her arm and tugged her to the door. “I’m so sorry, Officer. She’s leaving. She won’t be any more trouble.”
The security guard puffed up his chest. “She better not be.”
Reaper had been in the service and knew the signs of an impending attack. The woman who had been so gentle with him the night he’d been saved had a hair-trigger temper that still amazed him. That, and the fact she was Peyton’s daughter.
Reaper blocked the security guard, nodding for Killyama to go to the door. She huffed, then strode out the door, moving away from her mother.
“Rae can be a little temperamental,” she said when he and Viper reached her side.
“Are you sure there wasn’t a mix-up the day you had her?” Reaper couldn’t help asking as the doors slid open.
“She has a lot of her father’s personality.”
“You said his wife killed him.”
“Yes, she did. God rest his soul.”
“Have you thought about hiding Train’s guns so she can’t get to them?”
As they exited the building, there was a small area with benches. All of the front parking were handicapped spaces and filled with various vehicles. It was when they walked past the benches that he saw the lot was filled with motorcycles and two vans. Train stood next to one of the vans, and Hammer and Jonas were standing next to the other one. Killyama was angrily getting in the van where Train was standing.
“My car is over there.” Peyton motioned to a small, grey Honda. “I know you have all your friends waiting. I just wanted to stop by and wish you well. Just because we won’t be besties anymore, doesn’t mean that I won’t expect a phone call every couple of days to let me know how you’re doing.”
“I can do that.” Reaper knew what she was waiting for. Bending down, he gave her a good-bye hug and let her give him a quick peck on his cheek before backing from her. Then both he and Viper stood watching as she walked to her car.
“I plan to pay her back for staying with me,” Reaper told his brother.