Mine
1204 Words
The entire bar went silent.
My pulse stumbled painfully against my ribs as I stared at the man beside me.
Reaper.
That name fit him far too well.
Rainwater still dripped from his dark hair onto the shoulders of his black shirt, tattoos disappearing beneath tight fabric stretched across muscle. Up close, he looked even more dangerous somehow.
Like violence wrapped in calm control.
And he knew my name.
I swallowed hard. “How do you know that?”
One of the bikers near the pool table snorted quietly like he already felt bad for me.
Reaper leaned one arm against the bar beside my stool.
“You left your phone on the truck seat.”
I blinked.
Right.
God, I was tired.
Humiliated warmth crept up my neck as I slid onto the stool beside him. The movement earned low murmurs around the room immediately.
Apparently seating arrangements were life-threatening here.
A bartender with silver-streaked dark hair approached us, eyeing me carefully.
“Well,” she said dryly. “She’s prettier than the last stray he dragged in.”
Reaper didn’t even glance at her. “Maria.”
“What?” the woman replied innocently. “I’m being welcoming.”
Her sharp eyes softened slightly when they landed on me.
“You hungry, sweetheart?”
I hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon.
Unfortunately, admitting that felt pathetic.
“I’m fine.”
My stomach betrayed me instantly with a loud growl.
Several bikers laughed.
I wanted the floor to open and swallow me whole.
Maria rolled her eyes. “Men are idiots. Sit still.”
She disappeared toward the kitchen.
I stared down at the scratched wooden counter, wishing I could disappear with her.
“You scare easy?” Reaper asked beside me.
I glanced at him. “You own a bar full of criminals.”
A few men nearby started laughing again.
Reaper’s mouth twitched faintly.
“Not criminals,” one biker called out. “Tax-paying citizens.”
“Shut up, Luca,” another muttered.
Luca grinned at me from across the room. Blond hair. Tattoos. Trouble practically radiating off him.
“Don’t mind Reaper,” he said. “He’s only terrifying when he likes somebody.”
My eyes widened slightly.
The room exploded with laughter.
Reaper didn’t laugh.
Didn’t smile.
He simply looked at Luca.
“Keep talking.”
Luca lifted both hands immediately. “See? Terrifying.”
I tried not to smile.
Tried and failed.
Because for the first time in days, something inside me loosened slightly.
Just enough to breathe.
Reaper noticed.
His eyes dropped briefly to my mouth.
Heat curled low in my stomach unexpectedly.
This man was dangerous in ways that had nothing to do with guns or violence.
Maria returned with a plate piled high with fries and a burger bigger than my face.
“Eat.”
“I don’t have money right now,” I admitted quietly.
The words tasted humiliating.
Reaper’s expression darkened instantly.
The kind that made everyone around him suddenly quieter.
“You’re safe here tonight,” he said calmly.
Safe.
Such a simple word.
Why did it almost hurt hearing it?
I looked away first.
Big mistake.
Because that was when I noticed the woman sitting near the end of the bar glaring at me openly.
Beautiful.
Long red hair. Tight black dress. Legs crossed toward Reaper possessively.
Ah.
There it was.
I suddenly understood exactly what kind of women usually sat beside him.
And I definitely wasn’t one of them.
“You replacing me now?” she asked coldly.
Nobody moved.
Nobody even breathed.
Reaper finally looked at her.
“No.”
Relief flashed across her face.
Then he continued calmly.
“There was never a you.”
Jesus Christ.
The woman’s face crumpled instantly before she grabbed her purse and stormed out of the bar.
The door slammed behind her.
I stared at him in disbelief.
“You could’ve been nicer about that.”
“I could’ve.”
“That’s it?”
He looked at me slowly. “You want me to chase her?”
“No.”
“Then eat your fries, Ivy.”
I hated how my stomach flipped when he said my name.
Like he owned it already.
Maria smirked openly at me from behind the counter.
I grabbed a fry just to avoid everyone staring at me.
The food tasted incredible.
Apparently emotional devastation and near homelessness made burgers life-changing.
Reaper watched me eat for a moment before speaking again.
“Who hurt you?”
The question hit too fast.
Too directly.
My fingers tightened around the fry.
“Nobody.”
“Lying to me already?”
“I don’t even know you.”
“You’re sitting in my bar wearing bruises.”
The entire room felt quieter suddenly.
Listening.
Watching.
I set the fry down carefully. “Ex-fiancé.”
Something cold entered Reaper’s expression immediately.
“Where is he now?”
“Hopefully choking.”
That earned another surprised laugh from a few bikers.
Reaper didn’t laugh this time either.
He simply studied me.
Calculating.
Dangerously calm.
“You run from him?”
I hesitated too long.
Answer enough.
His jaw flexed once.
Then he leaned slightly closer.
Close enough that I caught the scent of whiskey and smoke beneath the rain.
Close enough that my pulse started acting stupid again.
“If he comes looking for you,” he said quietly, “he won’t leave this town breathing.”
Silence.
Absolute silence.
No one reacted like he was joking.
Because he wasn’t.
I should’ve been terrified.
Instead, warmth spread slowly through my chest for the first time in weeks.
Someone was on my side.
Even if that someone looked capable of murder.
The front door opened suddenly, letting cold rain and thunder spill inside.
A man stepped in wearing a sheriff’s jacket.
Older. Sharp-eyed.
His gaze landed directly on me.
Then shifted toward Reaper.
“You collecting strays now?” the sheriff asked.
Reaper leaned back against the bar lazily.
“She’s staying here tonight.”
The sheriff looked unimpressed. “That usually ends badly.”
“For other people,” Luca muttered.
The sheriff ignored him and approached me instead.
“You okay, miss?”
Before I could answer, Reaper spoke.
“She’s fine.”
The sheriff’s eyes narrowed. “Wasn’t asking you.”
Tension snapped tight instantly.
Every biker in the room went still.
I looked between them nervously.
“Oh my God,” I whispered. “Are you two about to fight?”
Shockingly, the sheriff barked out a laugh.
Reaper looked mildly offended by that.
The older man sighed heavily before turning back toward me.
“I’m Sheriff Collins,” he said. “If these idiots give you trouble, you come find me.”
“Sheriff,” Reaper said warningly.
Collins smirked. “What? You get possessive fast.”
Wrong thing to say.
Very wrong thing.
Because Reaper’s hand suddenly landed on the back of my stool.
Not touching me.
Claiming space around me.
His dark eyes stayed on the sheriff as he spoke.
“Careful.”
The single word carried enough threat to chill the room.
And for some completely insane reason—
My entire body reacted to it.
- Writer
