Page 23 of Resurfaced Passion

“Take a breath,papi. If you wanna go charging in, then take a fucking breath and I’ll go with you.” Two hands covered Reaper’s shoulders. “You want this girl? Then do it right, don’t go guns blazing. She’s on a date, not screwing the guy on top of the bar.”

It was the wrong thing to say to Reaper because he felt the rage build on his face, hurtling up through his voice box in a deep growl between his clenched teeth.

Logic told him to leave her alone. To let her be happy. To smile across a table at a guy who hadn’t done the things Reaper had.

Pity it wasn’t logic who walked Reaper out of his room and through the club, one heavy step at a time. Pity it wasn’t logic who rode all the way to Otis’ bar above the speed limit with a head full of fury and a heart ramming up against his ribcage.

Pained and terrified what he might see.

She was his.

Capone parked and followed him inside.

His eyes scanned and as pissed off as he was, the moment he caught sight of pink hair sitting dead center of the bar at a table with who could only be a dead fucker walking, his dick hardened like a two by four.

So fucking hard and happy to see her unharmed..untouched.

A hand clasped his shoulder from behind and a low voice hushed by his ear. “You good, Reaper?”

Was he good? Was he murderous?

She looked like she was having a nice time talking to the guy. Could he ruin that for her?

He nodded to Capone, never taking his eyes from that middle table.

“I’ll be over there with the others. Be cool,papi. Women like romance, not seeing tables broken,sí? But we’re here if you need help smashing his bones.”

It was smart advice. Really it was, but Reaper couldn’t think around being smart, not when Paige was looking so fucking lovely and her smile radiated through him.

That should be me.He thought.It should be me across from her saying funny shit to impress her.

Otis’ was predominantly a biker bar for the most part. Locals came in, but it was filled with those in clubs, and not all from the RSMC either. He spotted a few from the Apollo Kingsmen and even those assholes the Diablo’s, he couldn’t stand those guys, but no faces registered as he walked through the crowd, imagining a dozen kind of ways just how he’d pulverize this guy with his dickhead hair and buttoned-down blazer who was regarding Paige with lust in his fucking eyes.

What the fuck had this guy been thinking bringing Paige to a place like this for? He didn’t like the reason he came up with. A guy looking like him, instead of taking her to a fancy place to eat, he brought her to a rough biker bar.w Like his Paige wasn’t good enough for anywhere fancy and expensive. Like this guy was ashamed of her. It only fueled Reaper’s unhinged temper.

Dickhead hair him first and he rightly appeared startled from the stare Reaper was throwing at him.

Reaper wasn’t here to play.

Rushes of possessiveness kept him walking until Paige’s attention was drawn to him.

He watched color flood her cheeks. Guilt in her eyes.

He couldn’t smile. Fucking hell, he didn’t know how to smile, not when he was keeping his temper in check.

This was wrong. He needed to walk away and let her have her happiness.Fuck that.Fuck it all. He hated seeing someone else looking at Paige the same way he did.

Meet misery. His permanent friend.

The next thing he pulled out the spare chair, the wood scraped against the floor, sounding like bullets going off even with the loud music and the crowd of people around them.

Reaper saw no one but her.

Resting two hands on the table, laced together, he breathed in her scent.

“Reaper… what… what are you doing here?”

Here for you, baby. Always here for you.

---