Claimed By The Iron Reaper’s Son

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Jake stood right there, his massive frame casting a long, dark shadow over the counter. The heavy silence between us felt thicker than the smoke in the room. He didn’t say a word at first. He just stood there, towering over the wooden bar like a wall of pure danger, his gray eyes looking down at me.

My hands were still trembling from the fight with Cole, and I quickly hid them behind my back so Jake wouldn't see how scared I was. I did not want him to see my weakness. I did not want any of these men to know how much they were breaking me inside.

"You're done for the night," Jake said suddenly. His deep voice was very low, a quiet rumble that barely carried over the loud music playing from the speakers.

I blinked up at him, completely confused. I looked over at the big clock hanging on the wall. It was past three o'clock in the morning, but the main room of the clubhouse was still packed with loud, drinking bikers. "But... Sarah said I had to stay until the bar closed. She said the boys would be thirsty until sunrise."

"I don't care what Sarah said," Jake replied flatly, his face as hard as stone. "I am the Vice President of this club, and I am telling you to get out from behind the counter. You have been on your feet for hours, and you look like you are about to fall over. A tired worker makes mistakes, and I don't like mistakes."

I wanted to argue with him just out of pride, but my throbbing feet and aching back told me he was right. I was completely exhausted. My body felt like it was made of lead, and my eyes were burning from the thick cigarette smoke. I slowly untied the white apron from around my waist and laid it down on the counter.

"Where am I supposed to go?" I asked, my voice dropping into a quiet whisper. Real panic flared up in my chest again. "You aren't... you aren't letting me go home, are you?"

Jake let out a short, dark sound that was almost a laugh, though his eyes remained completely cold. "Home? No, Ava. You don't have a home out there anymore. Your father gave up your right to that apartment the moment he signed your life over to us. You live here now. Follow me."

He turned around without waiting for my response and walked toward a heavy wooden door at the back of the main room. I hesitated for a split second, looking back at the front door of the clubhouse. For a wild moment, I thought about running for it. But I remembered the guard outside and Jake’s warning from earlier. Running would only get me hurt. With a heavy sigh, I walked out from behind the bar and followed him.

Jake led me down a long, dimly lit hallway. The walls here were made of dark wood, and the floor was covered in a worn red carpet that muffled the sound of our boots. The loud rock music from the main room began to fade away, replaced by the quiet, heavy atmosphere of the house. We walked past several closed doors until we reached the very end of the hall.

He opened the last door and stepped aside, motioning for me to go inside.

I walked into the room slowly, my eyes looking around to check for danger. It was a surprisingly clean, small bedroom. It had a simple twin-sized bed with a plain gray blanket, a small wooden nightstand with a lamp, and a single window with thick metal bars on the outside. The sight of the bars made my stomach twist into a painful knot. It was a literal prison cell disguised as a bedroom.

"This is your space," Jake said, standing in the doorway and blocking the exit completely with his wide shoulders. "There is a bathroom attached through that door on the left. Sarah put some clean clothes in the drawers for you. You will sleep now. Tomorrow morning, you start your work in the kitchen at eight o'clock sharp."

I walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress. It felt soft, but I couldn't relax. I looked up at the dangerous man standing in the doorway. "How long, Jake? How long do I really have to stay here? Fifty thousand dollars is a lot of money, but if I work every single day, how many months will it take?"

Jake leaned his body against the doorframe, his gray eyes locking onto mine with an intense, unreadable look. "A regular bar job pays a few dollars an hour, Ava. If we calculated it normally, you would be here for the rest of your life. But my father is reasonable about business. Every week you work here without causing trouble, we will take a thousand dollars off your father's debt. If you work hard, you might be out of here in a year."

"A year?" I gasped out, the word feeling like a heavy weight dropping on my chest. "A whole year of my life? I'm supposed to be in school! I have exams next month!"

"Then you should have picked a better father," Jake said coldly, his voice completely uncaring. "Frank Wang used our name to protect his skin. He threw you to the wolves to save his own life. You are lucky we are keeping you safe behind these walls instead of selling you to the other people he owes money to. The Reapers pay their debts, and we collect what is ours. Right now, you are ours."

He reached out, grabbed the doorknob, and began to pull the heavy wooden door shut.

"Jake, wait!" I called out desperately, standing up from the bed.

He paused, the door half-closed, looking at me through the gap. "What?"

"Why did you protect me from Cole tonight?" I asked, the question slipping out of my mouth before I could stop it. "You keep saying I'm just club property and that you don't care about me. But you stopped him from touching me. Why?"

Jake stared at me through the small opening for a long, silent moment. The shadows of the hallway fell across his face, making his sharp jawline look even more dangerous.

"I told you before, Ava," he murmured, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly whisper that sent a strange shiver down my spine. "We have rules. And around here, nobody touches what belongs to the Callahan family until we say so. Sleep well, princess."

The door slammed shut with a firm, heavy thud, and a second later, I heard the sharp, terrifying sound of a key turning in the lock from the outside.

Click.

I was completely locked in. I walked over to the door and rested my forehead against the cold wood, listening to the sound of Jake's heavy boots walking away down the long hallway until there was nothing left but absolute silence.

I was entirely alone, trapped in a fortress of criminals, and my new life had officially begun. I walked back to the bed, pulled the gray blanket over my shaking shoulders, and finally let the hot, bitter tears fall in the dark.