Page 8 of Reaper

The rumble of approaching engines snapped him out of his thoughts. He straightened, his senses going sharp as the sound grew louder. The lights of six bikes cut through the darkness, heading straight for the clubhouse.

Reaper clenched his jaw when the patches came into view—black and red with a flaming skull. The Ravagers.

“Trouble,” he muttered, turning toward the door. “Patch, Viper, get out here. Now.”

The door swung open a moment later, and two of his brothers joined him, each armed and ready.

The Ravagers pulled into the lot, their leader, Drake, dismounting first. Reaper never liked Drake, he was the kind of guy who answered every problem with violence.

“Evening, Reaper,” Drake called, his voice slick as oil.“Mind if we chat?”

Reaper could feel his shoulders tense.“Depends on what you’re here for, Drake. This isn’t your turf,” Reaper pointed out.

Drake chuckled, looking around as his men dismounted and spread out, their presence a calculated move to show dominance.

“Relax. We’re just passing through,” Drake said.

“Passing through my ass,” Viper muttered.

Reaper shot him a warning glance before stepping forward.“Say your piece, and then keep passing.”

Drake’s grin widened as he stepped closer.“Word is, you’ve got a little stray hanging around. Thought we’d come take a look.”

Reaper’s stomach dropped. He didn’t have to ask who Drake meant. His mind immediately went to Savannah—her sharp tongue, her fierce independence, and the quiet vulnerability she tried so hard to hide.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Reaper said, his voice steady.

“Sure you don’t.” Drake’s eyes glinted with amusement. “But just in case, we’ll stick around a bit. Get reacquainted.”

Before Reaper could respond, Savannah rode into the lot with her friend Samantha seated behind her on the bike. She froze momentarily when she spotted the Ravagers.

Leaning close, Savannah quickly whispered something to Samantha, who immediately dismounted and hurried into the clubhouse. Much to Reaper’s frustration, Savannah didn’t follow her inside. Instead, she stayed where she was, plastering on a casual smile.

“Wow,” she said. Savannah sauntered toward Reaper like she hadn’t just walked into the middle of a standoff.“Didn’t know we were throwing a party tonight.”

Reaper wanted to grab her and drag her inside, but he forced himself to stay still, watching her every move. She was confident, sure, but he could see the tension in her shoulders. She knew exactly what she was walking into.

“And who’s this?” Drake asked, his gaze locking onto Savannah like a snake sizing up its prey.“Is this the stray I’ve heard about?”

Savannah tilted her head, her smile never faltering.“I’m certainly not a stray. Just a friend of Reaper’s, dropping by.”

Drake chuckled, but the way his eyes narrowed told Reaper he wasn’t buying it.“A friend, huh?”

Reaper stepped forward, putting himself between Drake and Savannah.“She’s none of your concern.”

“Easy, now,” Savannah said, placing a hand lightly on Reaper’s arm. “I think I can handle a little conversation.”

Reaper shot her a warning look, but she ignored it, turning her full attention to Drake.

“So, what brings you here?” she asked, her tone light but calculated.

Drake’s grin returned, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Just curious about the stray the Sentinels let onto their territory.”

“Well, curiosity killed the cat,” she said smoothly.“And I’m pretty sure you don’t want to stick around long enough to find out what it’ll do to you.”

The men behind Drake shifted, a few of them chuckling quietly. Drake’s grin faltered, but only for a moment. His eyes swept over Savannah again, something flickering there—recognition.

Reaper didn’t miss it. His gut tightened, and he moved closer to Savannah, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive.

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