Page 62 of Reaper's Claim

A smug smirk spread across his stupid face. “No need to talk dirty to me, babe.”

“I hate you.”

“Don’t really give a fuck.” He cracked the can open. “Go on, storm off now, Abby.” He gestured for me to piss off.

“I don’t think so.” I crossed my arms, standing my ground. “I hope they burn your tattoos off” I spat in his direction.

Everyone knew when you joined a new club, you got rid of your old club’s tattoos. Normally they are blacked out, but in Reaper’s case, I hope they burned them off.

“Didn’t have any to be burnt.” He seemed smug about that. “Now leave, Abby. I need to talk to my brother.”

“His name is Drake!” I spat out, sick of the ‘brother’ references. “And he doesn’t want to talk to you.”

I didn’t normally speak for Drake, but in this case, he had better keep his mouth shut.

“Fuck off, Abby. Now.” Reaper’s voice hardened.

How could I have ever loved him? EVER! How did I ever have a single ounce of love towards him?

Drake placed his hand on my shoulder. “Go on, Abby. We’ll talk later.”

“No.” I shook my head. I couldn’t rip my glare off Reaper. “You’re right I wanted to tell you something. I wanted to tell you I’m sorry. I am so sorry for leaving that hotel and ruining your life. I’m sorry you gave up your patch for me. I’m really sorry that you ended up at my father’s club.” Small tears of anger and perhaps raw guilt slid down my cheeks. “I’m sorry you had to leave the club that you loved because of my father. But most of all, Reaper, I’m sorry that I ever got mixed up in your life because clearly all I have done is fuck it up.”

Never in my life had I had so much to say, but now it seemed like I just couldn’t stop. Reaper’s face was still calm, blank of expression, not giving anything away.

“So there it is.” I wiped the tears away, “I’m sorry.” I turned sharply, pushing past Drake and moving as fast as I could. I scooped up my car keys off the counter and handbag off the hook. I had to get out of there. I had to get away from all of this.

***

The attraction I had towards Reaper never made sense. Why had I been pulled to a man that was guaranteed to hurt me or worse, one who could kill me? In a way, Reaperhadkilled me; he had killed my innocence.

“Abby?”

My head snapped up, Kim’s voice pulling me back to the present. “Sorry Kim, what were you saying?”

Her expression dried with little amusement. “Again? Seriously, Abby, why did you even bother coming around here if you aren’t going to listen?” She huffed at the end, crossing her arms.

I was beginning to ask myself that same question. Why had I come here to talk to Kim? It wasn’t like we got on. But then I guess desperate times called for desperate measures.

“So Trent hasn’t called then?” I chose to change the subject. “Why don’t you just bite the bullet and call him?”

“The dumpee doesn’t call the dumper.” Kim rolled her eyes, clearly not impressed with my lack of knowledge when it comes to break ups.

“But you miss him.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m going to crawl back to him and beg him to change his mind.” She started pulling the kitchen cupboards open at random, looking for god knows what.

“Why did you break up?” All I knew for sure was he was the one to end it, but that didn’t really make sense to me because Trent seemed pretty into her. Hell, they rarely were apart.

“I told you.” She swung around with a bottle of vodka; that explained the searching. “He called me trash.”

I arched my eyebrows, not believing her. “Don’t lie, Kim.”

She threw me an annoyed look before popping the cap of the bottle off. “I may have run into someone from the past.”

“And?”

“And it didn’t end well,” she snapped before taking a healthy drink from the bottle.

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