Page 5 of Reaper

Reaper shot her a look, but there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.“Don’t push your luck, Savannah.”

She laughed, the sound light and genuine, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like maybe—just maybe—she wasn’t as alone as she thought.

As Reaper tightened the last bolt and stood up, wiping his hands on a rag, he gave her a look that was equal parts exasperation and affection.

“All set. Try not to wreck it again, huh?”

Savannah smirked, grabbing her helmet.“No promises.”

He shook his head, watching as she swung a leg over the motorcycle.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” Reaper remarked.

She flashed him a grin.“You like trouble, though.”

Reaper didn’t respond, but the faint smile on his lips said enough.

As she rode out of the garage, the wind whipping through her hair, Savannah couldn’t help but glance back.

Reaper was still standing there, watching her with that same steady, unreadable expression.

Savannah hadn’t planned on sticking around Steelhaven for more than a few weeks. To her, the town was supposed to be a pit stop—a place to lie low, earn some cash, and figure out her next move.

She hadn’t even unpacked the few belongings she carried, keeping everything ready to grab at a moment’s notice. In her experience, staying anywhere too long was a mistake. The longer you stayed, the more people noticed you and started asking questions. And Savannah wasn’t ready to answer those. Not now. Maybe not ever.

But as the weeks turned into months, she found herself hesitating every time she thought about leaving. If she were honest with herself—really honest—she was tired.

Tired of living out of a duffel bag, of scanning every room for exits, of never knowing if the next place would be better or worse than the last. Maybe she’d convince herself she didn’t need a home, but Steelhaven was starting to make her question that.

The town wasn’t much to look at—a few greasy diners, a main street with more potholes than pavement, and the faint smell of oil always lingering in the air. But there was something about it. Something about the way the Iron Sentinels had claimed it, holding it steady like a ship in stormy seas.

No one messed with Steelhaven, not unless they wanted to deal with the Sentinels. That was the reason she’d come here in the first place. Safety. And Reaper was here.

Talking to him had started out as a necessity, just a way to keep her ride running and her cover intact. But the more time she spent around him, the harder it became to see him as just a friendly face. He had this way of making her feel grounded, like she could take a breath without worrying about what came next. He didn’t ask for more than she was willing to give, but he didn’t let her hide completely, either. And for someone like Savannah, who’d spent most of her life running and building walls, it was disarming in a way she hadn’t expected.

Reaper didn’t play games. He didn’t push too hard, didn’t sugarcoat anything. He just was. Solid. Reliable. And while his rough exterior screamed danger, Savannah had seen glimpses of the man underneath. A man who’d let her pay for repairs in installments when she’d had barely enough cash to scrape by. A man who spoke softly to his bike like it was an old friend. A man who looked at her sometimes like he wanted to figure her out but would wait as long as it took for her to let him in.

It scared her how much she genuinely wanted to know him better. But if she went down that path, she might end up dragging Reaper down with her.

Chapter Three

Savannah stumbled through the door of her tiny apartment, kicking it shut behind her with a weary sigh. She dropped her keys on the counter, her muscles aching after back-to-back shifts at the diner. Every step from the entrance to the kitchen felt like trudging through wet cement.

Her stomach growled, but the idea of cooking anything seemed as daunting as climbing a mountain. Savannah opened the fridge with the last bit of energy she could muster. The cold air wafted over her face as she scanned the meager contents. Leftover pizza it was. She grabbed the box, popped a slice onto a plate, and shoved it into the microwave. While waiting, she leaned against the counter and closed her eyes.

The sudden buzz of her phone broke through the haze. Her eyes snapped open, and she stared at the device on the counter. The screen lit up with an unknown number, making her stomach twist. Her first instinct was to let it go to voicemail—she was too tired to deal with anything, much less someone she didn’t know. But then, her thoughts spiraled. What if it’s him? The idea sent a shiver down her spine, though she wasn’t sure if it was fear or something else. Just as quickly, another possibility emerged. What if it’s someone who needs help?

Savannah hesitated, her fingers hovering over the phone. Swallowing her apprehension, she answered.“Hello?”

“Savannah? It’s Samantha. From the diner.”

Relief washed over her like a cool breeze. Samantha. Not him.“Hey, Samantha. What’s up? Everything okay?” Savannah asked.

There was a pause, followed by Samantha’s slightly shaky voice.

“Yeah, we’re okay. I just … I wanted to call and thank you. Me and Caleb, we’re staying in a motel here in Steelhaven. It’s not fancy, but it’s safe. And that’s because of you.”

Savannah exhaled slowly, her grip on the phone relaxing. Her shoulders sagged as the tension she hadn’t realized she’d been holding dissipated.

---