Page 108 of Resurfaced Passion

“Casper got himself an old lady.” – the boys

Now

He wished he’d stayed awake was his first thought as Reaper wrenched himself from sleep like the hounds of hell were nipping at his toes. He all but fell off the couch he’d passed out on in a back room at the club and when he rolled himself to his knees he was breathing heavily, the remnants of his nightmares still chewing through the soft part of his brain.

Should have stayed awake.

He knew more than ever how stress worked with his brain, tormenting him when he was weakest.

He needed two things; a shower and Paige and not necessarily in that order. But it was the shower he went for first, boiling his aching skull of all memories of that event which changed everything for Reaper.

He never did stay another night in their apartment without his wife and several weeks after he was in Colorado asking Rider for a job and the rest as they say was history.

Back in his clothes, he nearly broke his damn neck narrowly missing tripping over the empty bottle of whiskey that had kept him company last night. He yanked it up and tossed it into the trash can before he searched the room for his cell.

Wincing when he saw a wall of messages from Paige.

They started excitedly at first, asking if he’d seen her on TV, she described the event in great length. Slowly but surely her messages began to become worried, asking why he wasn’t answering, was he mad at her? Was he safe? And the last one was to give her a call if he felt like it.

If he felt like it …

Reaper’s teeth ached as he slammed out of the room and strode through the corridor that lead to the belly of the clubhouse. As always there was a handful of people around, some of the older members and the hangarounds, plus prospects.

He ignored them all and headed outside for fresh air and pressed the call button to Paige’s number before the door swung closed behind him.

Across the forecourt the sounds of machinery echoed through the drifting winds.

“Paige.” He breathed hearing her sweet greeting and instantly felt a shit ton better, the sluggish hangover disappearing from his skull. Just knowing she was a few miles away poured calm down over his shaggy head hanging too loosely on his neck. He rested his back against the brick wall, brace his boot there too. “You wanna come hang out at the club?” He didn’t know what he was gonna say to her until the words came out of him.

“I… erm, sure, I can be there in a little while.”

“Are you busy?”

“No, not really. I just figured you didn’t want to see me. I tried calling you a bunch yesterday, left messages. Thought maybe you’d… actually,” she laughed a nervous sound. “I didn’t know what I thought.”

“Paige?”

“Yeah?”

“I always wanna see you, baby. Come to me?”

He heard her smiling and he felt like shit for being mad at her in the first place and falling into a bottle and ignoring her for a full day.

“I won’t be long.”

“I’ll be here waiting for you.”

He was good at waiting. Too fucking good, even when it killed him.

For Paige? He’d wait a lifetime, even with his nightmares holding his hand.

While he waited, he decided to answer one of his brother’s many calls that week. He loved the guy, best friend for life, but fuck, if Bryan didn’t go right into lecture mode just like the older brother he was. “The folks want you to come home, Jud. They’re not getting any younger.” Guilt chewed through Reaper. He missed them too. “Even for a few weeks, you need it. You need a fucking break from—”

“I’m fine, Bry, you don’t need to cluck, mate.”

“Fuck you. It’s been years. It’s insanity, you know it.”

“Then let me be happy in my insanity.”

---