Page 20 of Reaper

“Never better,” she whispered.

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Wrapped in Reaper’s arms, Savannah felt an unfamiliar sense of calm settle over her. The room was quiet, the soft rhythm of his breathing a soothing backdrop. His warmth surrounded her, the steady beat of his heart under her cheek grounding her.

She clung to that feeling, trying to memorize every second of it—the way his arms held her firmly, yet gently, like he was afraid she might slip away.

The calm also brought clarity, and with it, a surge of memories she’d worked so hard to bury. The thoughts came unbidden, clawing their way to the surface, and suddenly, the need to let them out became unbearable. She’d carried this weight alone for too long.

She took a shaky breath. Her fingers, resting lightly on Reaper’s chest, curled into his skin. He must have felt the tension in her because he shifted slightly, his hand brushing soothing circles over her back.

“Savannah?” he murmured.

Her throat tightened. The words stuck there like a lump. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the instinct to pull away, to put up walls, to hide. But then she remembered how he’d looked at her tonight, how he’d made her feel seen, wanted, and safe. That safety was a fragile thing, she knew, but it was real. And for the first time in what felt like forever, she wanted to trust it. Trust him.

She opened her eyes, staring at the dim shadows on the ceiling. Her voice came out barely louder than a whisper.“There’s something I need to tell you.”

Reaper rested his hand on her back, his body going still beneath her. He didn’t speak, didn’t rush her, just waited. That steady patience gave her the courage to continue.

“Growing up, I didn’t have much … I grew up in foster care. No real family. No real home. When I graduated, I didn’t know what the hell to do with myself,” she began.

Reaper tightened his arm around her, just a little, and she drew strength from it.

“That’s when I met Raker,” she said bitterly. “He was … different. At least, that’s what I thought back then. He made me feel like I belonged somewhere, like he was all I needed. And I believed him.”

Reaper didn’t say anything, but his chest rose and fell beneath her, slow and steady, like he was anchoring them both.

“For a while, it was good. He was charming, confident, and he knew how to make me feel special. I thought I was in love. I thought he loved me.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and she swallowed hard.

Reaper traced a line up her spine with his fingers, a silent reassurance.

“But then things changed,” she whispered.“It started small. Little comments that made me doubt myself. He’d get angry over nothing, but then he’d apologize, and I’d forgive him. I kept thinking it was my fault. That if I just tried harder, he’d go back to being the man I thought I loved.”

A tear slid down her cheek, landing on Reaper’s chest.

He brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his touch gentle, but still he stayed quiet, giving her the space she needed to finish.

“Then the violence started,” she admitted, her voice barely audible.“At first, it was just a shove here, a bruise there. But it got worse. And every time I tried to leave, he’d find a way to convince me to stay. Or threaten me if I didn’t.”

She felt Reaper’s body tense beneath her, his jaw tightening against the top of her head. His silence spoke volumes. He was angry, but not at her. Never at her.

“I finally got out one night after he … after he left me barely able to walk,” she said, the memory sending a shiver through her. “I packed what I could and just ran. I’ve been running ever since.”

She took a shaky breath, the weight of the words lifting slightly now that they were out in the open.

“I’ve been careful. I don’t stay in one place for long. But I lingered in Steelhaven. Drake and Slim recognized me.”

She looked up at Reaper, her eyes searching his face for any sign of judgment, of pity. But all she saw was quiet understanding and a rage simmering just beneath the surface—not directed at her, but at the man who’d hurt her.

“I stayed here longer than I should have,” she confessed. “Because … because I felt something between us. Something good. And I’m afraid I’ve just put a target on your back too.”

Reaper cupped her face, using his thumb to brush away a stray tear.

“Listen to me, Savannah. You don’t need to be afraid anymore,” he told her.

She shook her head, a fresh tear slipping free.“But Raker—”

“Raker doesn’t get to touch you again. He doesn’t get to haunt you, to own your life. You’re not alone in this anymore. I’m here, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he reminded her.

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