Reaper's Salvation: A Last Riders Trilogy by Jamie Begley (reading e books .txt) 📕

dozens of times all over the Ohio club, but we can’t stand here and talk about sex? Be fucking real. I’m going to be real with you, because I love you, brother, but you need to get your head out of your ass. You being raped by men didn’t change your sexuality, you giving men blow jobs or whatever else didn’t either, nor does it make you a whore when you had to perform for the women who bought you. They may have used and treated you a million different ways sexually, but they never ever owned your sexuality. That can’t be bought or stolen; it’s held within where no one can touch it, regardless of how hard they tried to tear it away from you.”

“Then why do I feel so fucking dirty?” Reaper yelled.

Lucky moved from behind his back to hold out his hand. “I think I may know something that could work. Will you trust me, brother?”

Reaper stared at the hand held out to him. How could he not trust Lucky? Lucky had risked his life to go to Sherguevil for him and Ginny.

Placing his hand in Lucky’s, the brother led him into his bathroom where Lucky released his hand. “Take off your clothes, Reaper.”

He wanted out of the closed-off room. However, concentrating on the blue towel hanging on the rack, Reaper removed his clothes as Lucky started the shower.

“Get in the shower,” Lucky instructed.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Lucky removing his clothes. Reaper froze as Lucky sat on the side of the tub to remove his shoes, then stood up to remove his pants.

Lucky paused when Reaper didn’t go fully in the shower.

He trusted Lucky … He trusted Lucky … Reaper told himself, repeating the refrain to get his heart rate back in control. He stepped in the shower, shivering under the warm water when Lucky stepped inside, completely naked.

Staying to his side, Lucky cupped his hand under the spray. “This may not be a river, but this water is drawn from one. Matthew 3:11: I baptize you with water for repentance.” Lucky raised his hands filled with water over his hand. The water slid over his head and body to the drain underneath his feet.

“I don’t believe in God.”

“He believes in you, Gavin.” Lucky placed his hand on Reaper’s shoulder. “God never lost faith in you. His arms remain open to you anytime you’re ready to walk into them. This water is a symbol of your purification. Let your sins, and the sins committed against you, go down the drain, never to touch your soul again.”

Lucky turned the water off, leaving him alone in the shower.

Moved despite his lack of faith, Reaper kept his eyes averted from Lucky as he left the shower.

Grabbing the towel from the rack, he started drying off. “Since I’m all clean, you going to tell Ginny to marry me now?” he said, attempting to lighten the unexpected and intense feelings of Lucky’s words. When he stepped into the shower, he’d felt as if he shed an outer layer of filth that no matter how often he’d previously washed he could never get clean. Drying off he didn’t feel brand new, but didn’t feel nearly as contaminated.

“No.”

Reaper went into the bedroom to dress, still not understanding this hold Lucky had over Ginny. Then thinking about Ginny, his mind went to which of the brothers Ginny would have asked for advice.

Sitting on the bed, Reaper was putting on his boots when Lucky came out of his en suite.

“Any idea who Ginny would have talked to yesterday?”

Lucky was as perplexed as he was. “None. She spent the most time with Rider and Shade when they were trying to find her stalker.”

Going to the dresser, Reaper picked up his gun where Lucky had placed it. As he put the gun at the notch of his back, he realized he must have forgotten Suki.

Blocking the door from Lucky leaving, he ignored the brothers and the women who scattered when he opened his door. He let Suki inside before slamming the door for those who were still brave enough to remain on the same floor.

Lucky arched a brow at him for not letting him leave.

Reaching for his gun, he handed it back to Lucky.

“Shoot me.”

Chapter Forty-Four

“I am not wearing this.” Ginny started to slide the zipper down that held the pieces of her top together with the use of her uninjured hand.

“You’re wearing it.” Trudy swatted her hand away to rezip the black top. “Why didn’t you just ask for some help?”

“Sorry, I’m used to doing things on my own.” Ginny turned to face the mirror more fully, then wished she hadn’t. “I can’t wear this tonight. There are going to be too many people coming to The Last Riders’ tonight, and that doesn’t include how many are already there.”

“That’s the plan.” Killyama unceremoniously shoved her down onto the bed.

Ginny had to hold onto the side to keep herself from toppling over when the woman shoved a stiletto onto each of her resisting feet, while Trudy carefully slid the sling back on her sprained arm.

“Ouch!” Ginny muttered when Killyama pinched her calf to keep her from wiggling.

“Bitch, that didn’t hurt.” Killyama helped her to stand, as Trudy finished adjusting the sling comfortably around her shoulder.

The five women circled her to critique her appearance.

“Not bad. Something’s missing,” Sex Piston mumbled, staring at her fixedly. “I know.” Snapping her fingers, she went to her dresser, coming back with her teasing comb.

When Sex Piston was done, she gave another once-over, and Ginny saw her reflection in the floor-length dressing mirror. “I look like a floozy. I’m going to hell.” Ginny whined at the women who had turned to admire their own reflections.

“So?” Crazy Bitch turned to get a better view of her ass in the snug red miniskirt. “We’re all going to be there with you. What’s the big deal?”

Ginny moved in front of Crazy Bitch to see if tugging the black