Reaper's Wrath (Road to Salvation A Last Rider's Trilogy 2)

Numbly, Reaper made no move to pick up the phone. He didn’t have to call; he already knew how they would respond. Everyone, even all the hardened brothers, would tell him exactly that—that they loved him. He also knew Taylor’s answer.

“And while you listen to the woman you think you loved … who wore your ring …”

Lifting his eyes from the phone, the stark pain he witnessed in her eyes nearly bowled him over in pain.

Tapping the side of her forehead, as if she wanted to pound some sense into his head, she continued, “… I want you to keep one thought front and center.” She dropped her hand limply to her side. “Which woman would you trust to always be by your side? The woman you almost married or the one you met just a few days ago? Then see if you can lie about that to yourself so easily.”

Reaper was left standing as she departed, waiting until she was out of sight before sinking down onto the chair and burying his face in his hands.

There wasn’t one part of what she had told him that hadn’t rung true. Logically, he knew the soul mate crap didn’t exist, but to her, it was real. And regardless of how many times he played back the day at the pool, it had the same impact on him. Was he ever going to admit that to her? He couldn’t. The lie, as badly as it hurt her, was preferable to the truth.

During their argument, he’d had to keep the table between them, too experienced with women not to recognize the desire she had to hold and touch him. He should have told her …

You can’t hold ashes.

Chapter Fifteen

“You don’t want to wear the dress I bought?”

Sitting quietly in the chair of Ginny’s dressing table, Reaper pretended to scroll indolently through his phone as Ginny went through the clothes that had been destroyed by the stalker.

“I spent an entire day searching for this,” Kimmy argued, lifting a navy blue, leather dress off a rack. “It’ll go perfectly with the dark outfit that Kaden is wearing for the duet at the end of the show.”

“I’m not wearing it, Kimmy. I’m wearing the one I brought.”

Lifting his eyes from the phone, he saw that Kimmy was unzipping a clothing bag, exposing the dress within.

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“I’m not joking.” Taking the bag away from Kimmy, Ginny hung it back on the rack. “Let’s get my makeup done, unless you want to be the one responsible for delaying the show?”

At least he wasn’t the only one coming up short against Ginny’s refusal to be swayed from something she decided upon.

Giving up the pretense of not tuning into their conversation, Reaper put his phone away to calculatingly observe Ginny. To find her stalker, he had to find out just how close the person was to her. Unless the person was fucking invisible, he had to be within her circle of acquaintances, if not someone she considered a friend. They were too familiar with her life, finding access where no bystander would be granted without standing out. They had slid past Alec’s, Shade’s, and Rider’s notice. That skill alone exhibited how dangerous they were.

Giving Ginny the chair, Reaper moved to stand against the wall, out of their way.

“If you want to wait outside, I’ll let you know when Kimmy’s finished.”

Reaper leaned his shoulder against the wall, making himself more comfortable. “I’m good where I am.” Meeting Ginny’s gaze in the mirror, he refused her suggestion. If he wanted to be a gentleman, he would stand outside the door, leaving a small crack to check on her safety. Concern about her welfare wasn’t what kept him rooted in the spot, however, wanting to change the pattern of her behavior to throw her stalker off his game did.

The stylist wasn’t happy he’d rejected her suggestions, and it showed as Kimmy started brushing her hair back. His lips tightened when Kimmy laid the brush down on the table and he saw several fine hairs clinging to the bristles.

“Do you pay Kimmy for her services or is she doing it for free?”

Kimmy spun of her high heels. “Excuse me?”

“Even I could brush her hair out without hurting her.”

Flustered, Kimmy looked at Ginny’s embarrassed features.

“I’m not tenderheaded,” Ginny said, trying to excuse the treatment she was getting from the woman.

He wasn’t having that bullshit.

His own expression became inflexible. “Be gentler or start walking.”

Kimmy’s movements were slower and more careful as she pulled Ginny’s hair back, pinning it with hairclips. Every so often, Reaper caught her gauging his reaction as she put on Ginny’s makeup. The awkwardness as they worked didn’t bother him, but he could tell it did Ginny.

“I really like the blue dress, Kimmy. I appreciate the effort you put into finding it for me. I just … I wouldn’t ….”