Calder’s wife, Vida, was friends with Sawyer and Lily, Kaden and Shade’s wives, respectively. The two couples always stayed with Lily and Shade when they visited, each time without any of the band members. If he wasn’t looking for the man who was stalking Ginny, he wouldn’t have given the disparity another thought. Every aspect of Ginny’s life was going to be looked at through a magnifying glass. To find the stalker, he would need to be able to read Ginny’s life like a map in order to expose the weakness.
While he remained alone during their stay, he still ate meals with The Last Riders and witnessed the interactions between the three couples. They might have become friends because of Penni, but the affection between the three women seemed more like sisters than friends. He didn’t give a damn about the secrecy, making no attempt to question Shade or Viper about their past relationships. Guarding Ginny brought it to the forefront as just another detail that needed to be ironed out. Reaper would question Viper once he had the opportunity to gleam more information about them for himself.
Once upon a time, he would have asked for the information he needed. Now he was smarter and wiser.
Actions spoke louder than words. If he had delved deeper into Vincent Bedford’s personal life, instead of only taking his business into account before trusting most of The Last Riders’ money, then his captivity would never have happened. He had allowed his personal safety to be jeopardized, something he only had himself to blame.
Staring out the windshield, Reaper felt goosebumps spread up the length of his arms as Ginny emerged from the limo. Unlike the other women getting on the plane, she was dressed comfortably in jeans paired with a bulky grey sweater. The jeans weren’t form-fitting; instead, they were loose and faded. Nothing about her would make a man stand up and take notice, until she opened her mouth to sing. Her exceptional gift shone like a beam, highlighting the spectacular beauty from within. The beam had hit him with the force of a Mack truck.
Reaper hadn’t felt a spark of life in his dick—that hadn’t been brought about by the drugs forced onto him by his ex-captors and Slate’s sadistic purposes—in so long that he mistakenly assumed he would never experience the same sexual desires from before. When she touched his cheek, the sexual response had stunned him, making it impossible to move away from her gentle touch. The worst part of his inexplicable behavior was the asinine notion that Ginny had somehow imparted a fragment of her lifeforce, latching onto him as if she had always been there inside of him.
Her touch had reached out and stroked a scarred soul that no longer believed in human goodness. The fragment had delved deep, trying to bring a fresh burst of oxygen to the starved Gavin. Too late to resurrect the man he once was, Reaper had to come to grips with the myriad of feelings and longings that Ginny invoked. What little research he found out last night before grabbing a couple of hours sleep exposed a woman opposite of those he was attracted to. If Ginny likened herself to a package, it was one he had no interest in opening beyond being able to find out who her stalker was so he could fly his ass back home.
“Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think.”
He looked over to see Cash’s encouraging nod toward the plane.
Reaper reached for the strap of his duffel bag.
“You’re not taking many clothes with you.” Cash gave him a look filled with misgivings. It was the same one that Viper had given him when he had refused the offer to drive him to the airport.
“Don’t need much.”
Cash’s rugged features filled with annoyance. “Planning on doing something stupid so you’ll be on the next flight back? If you are, save Viper the headache and tell him before you get on the plane.”
“I already did.”
“What did he say?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Reaper glanced at the hands gripping the steering wheel. “You want a piece of me too?”
Cash loosened his grip. “No. What I want is for you to get your act together.”
“You and everyone else needs to realize the old Gavin is gone. He’s not coming back.”
“Brother—”
“Do not call me brother,” Reaper snapped, then heard Cash’s frustrated sigh.
“You’re the same man I served with, no matter how much you think you aren’t, Reaper. We’ve all changed. Fuck, even you can see we’ve all changed. Did we go through the same shit you had to go through? Fuck no, but damn, take it easy on us. If we had known, there isn’t a brother among us who wouldn’t go back in time and take your place. But since we can’t, don’t minimize that each of us would cut off one of our hands just to see something as simple as a smile from you.”
“I don’t have one fucking thing to smile about anymore.” Dully, Reaper put the strap of his duffle over his shoulder as he prepared to get out of the truck.
“I would have found a way to take myself out if what happened to you happened to me. I’m man enough to admit I don’t have your strength.” Cash flicked the door lock so Reaper couldn’t get out when he reached for the door handle. “But brother, you fucking made it out alive. None of us would have accomplished that, and you know that’s a fucking fact.”
“You done?” Reaper held back the retort he wanted to give—that none of them would have been stupid enough to let Vincent Bedford and Memphis take them down. He didn’t have to say it, though, because they all knew those two men would never have gotten the better of them. No, he was the only Last Rider who didn’t deserve the jacket on his back. He never had.
The friendship he once shared with The Last Riders was once the most important thing in his life. Now he didn’t feel much of anything, except the shame of what had been done to him. He was no longer worthy of being a Last Rider, and it was scab on his soul that he wasn’t strong enough to tell them that to their faces and give Viper his jacket back—again . Every day he swore he would do just that, and then he would get on his bike and leave to make his way on his own. Every day he failed, unable to leave the last part of his old life behind, because he knew if he did, he would no longer have any reason to keep breathing—except for vengeance. He had to survive long enough to collect the retribution owed to him.
Every time he rode away from the clubhouse, he could see the fear etched on his brother’s face that it would be the last time he would see him. As much as he wanted to tell himself that he didn’t give a fuck about anything or anyone, he lied. He did care. What little emotion left inside of him that kept him sane was for Viper, who he couldn’t bring himself to cause any more pain. Which was why he was going to suck it up and get on that plane, despite every primal instinct in his body telling him not to.
Was he strong and mentally sound enough to protect the woman that Viper was trusting him with? Was he determined enough not to cave in the face of any drugs?
Cash gave a frustrated sigh as he disengaged the lock mechanism. “Then go. It’s easier to talk some sense into Greer Porter than into you.”
He used the opportunity to escape the close confines of the truck without giving Cash a backward glance.
He felt the brothers’ need to help. Each had tried in their own way to break through the barricade he surrounded himself within. They wanted to be able to shoulder some of the tormenting memories of what had been forced upon him. Reaper got that. If the shoe were on the other foot, he would do the same.