Page 4 of Resurfaced Passion

“And it’s not you either, old man. Go back to city hall and push a pen.”

Or go on a fucking diet before your blood pressure kills you.

He strode out, staring at his weasel sidekick who backed up out of Reaper’s way.

All roads definitely pointed to the Russian mafia and Rider was gonna be pissed if Grigori was making new connections instead of getting his ass back to wherever he came from.

Thebratvahad a US base in Chicago until they’d turned up in Colorado.

Things were not looking good. Firstly, Grigori teamed up with Rider’s dick-for-brains uncle, the former club Prez, who pitched one helluva tantrum when Rider replaced him. And now the man who held the legal rights to the city, was possibly working with Grigori too.

Shit always did attract shit.

As bad as it could get for the club, who had been nothing but welcoming to Reaper in all these years…he still only had one priority; and it was the girl with the pink hair and lavender shaded eyes.

The girl who smiled at everyone.

The girl who baked at 4 am and drove a crappy car and sang out of tune and cried at sappy movies.

The girl who loved animals but wouldn’t get a pet for herself.

The girl who tied his guts into physical knots.

His Achilles heel.

If Paige was the magnet, then Reaper was the metal.

There was no circumstance he could ever think of that would sway him from being drawn to her. Putting her first no matter what, even when she didn’t know it. That extraordinary pull he felt day and night just to be near her grew more monstrous with every ticking second, until he felt the jealous and possessiveness rush through his blood for anyone else who got the chance to spend a minute in her company.

He was seriously fucking screwed.

Damned if he did. Crazy if he didn’t.

That fact alone had kept him breathing.

He didn’t know what he was waiting for anymore. Only that he couldn’tnotwait.

He swung his leg over the bike and started it up just like he had thousands of times before. With two destinations in mind, for once he wouldn’t head to the diner first.

Rider had always been good to him and he owed the guy. He’d go to the club first and fill him in.

He then needed to put his eyes on Paige, to remind himself she existed, and she was smiling, and she wasokay.

All other shit after that could wait.

CHAPTER TWO

“There’s no madness like a biker obsessed.” - Reaper

Hawk was sitting on Rider’s left in one of those high-backed leather chairs, legs kicked up on the table, when Reaper rapped his knuckles on the office door and strolled in. Only one of the men looked up. The VP was fast asleep with his daughter laid on his chest, his hand secured on her little back.

“Should I come back?”

“Nah, don’t mind them. I’ve been bangin’ drawers closed for ten minutes and they’re still out.” Rider directed him in with a two-finger motion. “How did it go?”

“Still need to drop by Marcel’s, but the mayor closed his account; he emptied his box and paid in full.” He explained, putting the envelope on the desk.

Rider shrugged, unfazed by the news. “We have enough on him already if he tries to step on our toes. He’d be an idiot if he did. Lawless compiled a book on him the size of War and fuckin’ Peace years ago.” The enforcer was a scary guy you didn’t wanna mess with. He liked giving pain and expanding his brain. Right now the guy was studying Portuguese.

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