Page 30 of Reaper’s Wrath

Of course, my scars would be the focus of his attention. They mark me as unnatural. Broken.

Maybe subconsciously I thought his own gnarled skin would desensitize him to the sight, but I should have known better. There’s no escaping the trauma of my past.

“Please, don’t,” I say softly, sidestepping him to take a pillow off the bed and hug it tight to my body. I refuse to turn and face him, keeping my now stone-cold stare locked on the city skyline passing outside the window.

“Tell me what happened,” he demands quietly.

“Car accident.” True, but not exactly the whole story.

“The one that killed Ario?”

I nod without looking back at him. He’s silent for several dizzying seconds before finally relenting.

“There’s clothes in the closet,” he says in a low rumble. “I have a guard stationed in the hall. You’re not to leave this room.”

The door clicks shut behind him.

CHAPTER 18

ELIO

I need air.

A vise clamps tight around my rib cage until I reach the sky deck and feel the icy bite of ocean air on my face. I lean on the rail facing open water as I process what I just witnessed.

Isa’s bold defiance.

A body I still remember so well matured to perfection.

The pink and silver sheen of long-healed scars. And not just on her stomach. I noted one on her upper arm and another on her back.

I knew she was with her brother when he died. The first thing I did when I got access to a computer years after being kidnapped was search for her. The deadly wreck had made the news. The revelation was devastating. My best friend outside my brother was dead. My own grief was compounded by the sorrow I knew Isa and her father had to have experienced.

Now that I’ve seen her scars, I have to wonder if grief wasn’t her only struggle after the crash. Did she come just as close to death as I did? Is that why she still lives with her father? Nothing else seems to explain why, at thirty-seven, she’s never gone out on her own.

I’m drawn from my thoughts when Michael joins me. He mirrors my stance, resting his forearms on the metal rail and staring off into the distance.

“You going to tell me what this is all about?” he asks eventually.

Michael isn’t a part of my crew. He’s not even a friend. We’ve allied ourselves over a common purpose—that’s it. But the guy is like a stray dog I fed who has somehow become part of the household. He and his wife are even living on my boat for fuck’s sake. And the most annoying part is, I don’t hate it.

“Told you, I’m stopping the Italian alliance.”

“Wrong,” he continues to push. “I saw the way you went after Yannis earlier. That’s personal. Who is this woman to you?”

“That’s none of your damn business,” I grumble as if fussing at him will deter him.

“Evie’s taken a liking to her. I’d like to know who my wife is cozying up to.”

Hell, I’d feel the same if I were him.

I let out an exasperated sigh. “Our fathers were friends. We were … friends. There’s not much more to tell.” Plenty more, but that’s all he’s getting.

He makes a humming noise as though deciding whether he believes me. “What’s your plan for her?”

I have no fucking clue.

“I’ve considered using her to get close to Simeon.” I toss out the idea even though I’d never actually do it. I may be pissed at Isa, but I’m not handing her off to those psychos. If anyone is going to make her life miserable, it will be me.