Series: Straight to Hell MC Series by Sam Crescent
Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
“They don’t usually,” he said. “Anyway, I’m tired. Are you ready to head upstairs?”
She nodded, wrapping her arms around his waist.
“Thought you’d never ask.”
****
Grace could see Reaper sitting out front on his bike through the store glass.
She told him to drop her off at work and she’d let him know when to pick her up. He was being too overprotective. Nothing odd had happened in several days. Her shifts were uneventful, except her manager complaining about the biker scaring away customers. She didn’t mention that Reaper was her boyfriend. The next time she glanced out front, he was gone.
She took a breath, really hoping things could start to go back to normal. It had been almost a week since she’d been to her apartment. Although she loved sleeping at Reaper’s place, hiding and being in limbo forever wasn’t going to work for her. There were often threats volunteering at a shelter, but they passed. Like now.
Gena had been especially quiet, so maybe things were going back to normal. Grace was used to volunteering several nights a week, so she looked forward to going over after work for a while. Reaper didn’t want her going over there because he was sure whoever had been following her was one of the husbands of an intake. It had to be Heidi’s husband because everything went downhill since her and her daughter showed up that night.
But the men usually moved on once the shock was over, and it looks like the same thing in this case. Grace was just a volunteer and occasional intake worker when staff was short. She was no threat to anyone.
The shift at the bubble tea shop was unusually slow, so her manager let her off a few hours early. Instead of telling Reaper to come by, she just started walking to the shelter. She hated being a constant bother to him. He probably felt like her chauffeur by now, but the club was in the suburbs and she didn’t drive.
It was a relaxing walk to the shelter. No cars following her, nothing out of the ordinary. It felt good to be in her familiar stomping grounds, and she had the urge to check on her apartment. She’d pop in on her way over to water her plants and check her mail, at least. There was no need for Reaper to worry because she wasn’t staying. Her mind kept drifting to the future. If things worked out with them, would she move into the club and give up her apartment? Or would he leave the club? She wasn’t sure how things worked for bikers. All the other wives lived at the club, so maybe that was the norm. Would she even want that for herself?
Grace was still digesting so many new things in her life. One thing she couldn’t complain about was Reaper. All he did was make her feel happy, safe, and wanted. She’d do whatever it took to make things work between them.
As she approached her building, she dug through her oversized purse for her keys. She hadn’t needed them in a while. The stairway had the same musty scent, and she realized she wasn’t missing out on anything here. The only good thing about coming home was Bob, but now he was settled at Reaper’s place.
At first Reaper was standoffish with the cat, but she’d caught him petting Bob a few times when he didn’t know she was watching.
Grace opened her apartment door and gasped. She dropped her purse and covered her mouth with both hands. Panic overtook her, her heart rate picking up quickly. Her little apartment had been completely ransacked.
Everything was knocked over and out of place. Her papers and decorations all scattered on the floor. She walked in, careful where she stepped. Why would someone rob her place? She had almost nothing of value. The few things that she had to save for were still there, which was odd.
Grace bent down when she saw one of her plants on the ground, the soil spilled out. She uprighted the little plant and starting scooping the soil back into the ceramic container. Part of her felt numb, in a trance, the other beyond violated.
Then she remembered her photo albums. She rushed to where she’d left them but found the albums in a pile on the ground. All the pictures of her family were still there. She sat on the floor and hugged them to her chest, the tears falling now. This was how many of those women at the shelter must have felt at some point, only caring about their memories in the photo albums. At the end of the day, memories were the most valuable things a person had.
Grace wiped away her tears and grabbed a bag from the kitchen. She put her albums, her injured plant, and a few personal effects in it before leaving. She wasn’t sure what she should do. The police wouldn’t be able to do anything. She didn’t have insurance because she had nothing of value. Reaper would know what to do. She’d tell him tonight when he picked her up at the shelter. One thing for certain. She was glad she’d listened to Reaper and stayed at his place.