Reaper's Till Death, page 1
part #3 of Devils Rejects MC Series
© 2018 Glenna Maynard Reaper’s Till Death
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Cover Art and Formatting by Glenna Maynard
Reaper’s Till Death is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and events portrayed in this book either are from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, establishments, events, or location is purely coincidental and not intended by the author. Please do not take offence to the content, as it is FICTION.
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Contents
Blurb
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Author’s Note
About Glenna
Also By
Preview You Wreck Me
Dedication
To instalove. It’s real and when it happens there is no stopping it.
Acknowledgments
To my Rebels and Devils, my readers without you there would be no story to tell.
Frank, Annette, and Dena thank you for beta reading and allowing me to pick your brains.
To my new writing partners, my guinea piggies. Your squeaks make my heart seem fuller. Well technically they are the kids’ pets but ya know…. they helped ease the absence of my partner in crime, my best friend, Bo. I miss my nerd every day.
To the family, thank you for continuing to put up with my stressful deadlines I impose on myself and my poor habits while I somehow manage to somewhat hold it together.
Blurb
She’s forbidden and too damn young for him, but he’ll have her until death do them part.
Reaper
The moment she steps off the bus wearing a belly top showing off her navel ring, I know she is pure trouble. Harley is a brat who needs a real man to put her in line. My Prez has decided I’m just the man for the job. She’s off limits—the daughter of a Black Rebel Rider, but that smart mouth of hers drives me crazy. I can’t resist the temptation of tasting her forbidden fruit.
Harley
When an enemy threatens my life, my father sends me to the last place anyone would expect to find me—Webb Hollow. Home of the Devils Rejects MC. I’m placed under the protection of a biker I despise. Reaper’s all man and takes no shit, especially not mine. He’s dead set on putting me in my place. I’m a rebel at heart. I don’t take orders from no man, not even my father. Reaper will learn I’m nobody’s old lady. Never have been. Never will be…even if it means saving my life.
Chapter One
—Harley—
Drag Creek, Kentucky
When I come out to my car after my shift at the tanning salon, the driver’s side door is open, and my interior lights are on.
“Hello,” I call out like an idiot. As though whoever broke into my car is gonna be all, “oh hey, Harley, I ganked your stereo,” or some shit. Shaking my head, I walk around my vehicle hoping like hell no one jumps out at me. Knowing my luck, it’d be one of my idiot brothers being a jerk. Axel and Abel are good for embarrassing me.
My battery better not be dead. Who knows how long the door has been open with the interior lights on this way.
I don’t see anyone around. The parking lot is empty. Shrugging I go to get in when I see something in the tan leather seat.
“What the fuck!” There is a used condom in my car. This is the second time this week. What the serious fucking fuck is wrong with people?
Fucking Kyler. I bet he did this shit. I am fuming. I am fairly certain steam is about to blow from my ears. Digging my cell phone out of my bag, I fire off a text.
Harley: You are so fucking lame.
Kyler: The fuck do you want?
Harley: Seriously…fuck off.
Kyler: You texted ME!
Harley: Well if you weren’t breaking into my car like a lame asshole I wouldn’t need to.
Kyler: Break into your car?! I’m not even in Drag Creek, you stupid bitch. I’m on a run for the club. I’m not even in the state. I’m balls deep in some premium pussy. So, take your psycho shit elsewhere. I’m done.
I won’t cry.
I refuse to cry.
Fuck him.
Kyler is dead to me. My father sat him down and told him he could be a prospect or my boyfriend. Needless to say, he chose the club. The club always comes first for a biker. I knew better than to get involved with Ky, but I fell for him hard and fast. Stupid and blind—first loves and heartbreak are the worst.
I fucking hate bikers. Not all of them but most of them only care about their motorcycles and getting their dick wet. That boy sure as fuck never cared about me. I was a conquest. His first but most definitely not his last.
Obviously, all Kyler cares about is being like his old man, Tread. A mean ass biker. An outlaw who rides alongside with my father, Rebel Black, president of the Black Rebel Riders’ Motorcycle Club.
I snap a picture of the condom laying in the driver’s seat of my car and send it to my brothers in a group text.
Harley: You guys went too damn far this time.
Asshat brothers:
Abel: Da fuck?!
Axel: Is that your car?
Harley: You guys aren’t yanking my chain?
Axel: Hell no. Why the fuck would we put something like that in your car?
Abel: Sick ass shit. I don’t want to know anything about you and your nasty ass condoms.
If they didn’t do it who did? I figured they were trying to scare me into moving back home. My parents aren’t too happy with me right now. I decided not to go to college, and I moved into an apartment on my own. I thought Kyler would be living with me, but I don’t need him or any man for that matter.
Abel: Where are you?
Harley: Getting ready to leave work.
Axel: Need one of us to come check shit out?
Harley: Nah. Probably some whore Kyler has been fucking being stupid.
Abel: I’m gonna fuck him up.
Axel: Not if I see that motherfucker first. I owe him a beatdown.
Harley: Forget his lame ass. I have.
Saying and doing are two completely different things. Only I am no longer hurt I’m mad.
Going over to the passenger side, I get a napkin from the glovebox to dispose of the nasty ass condom.
I toss it in the trash then get an old towel from the trunk I use when I clean my car out to lay on the seat. I am totally having my car detailed in the morning.
When I get to my apartment complex the breezeway light is flickering as I walk up the stairwell and a chill washes over me. A heavy feeling settles in my gut as I reach my floor.
As soon as I round the corner I know something is terribly wrong. My door is slightly ajar, and I step in something sticky. When I look up from the puddle I stepped in is when I see it. A message written in red on my white door that reads: “You’re next!”
I cover my mouth when I see the body of a black cat laying in the doorway.
I want to scream but no sound will come out. Tears burn in the corners of my eyes as I continue to hold my hand to my mouth. Who would do something so sick and cruel?
My hands shake as I pull my phone out to text my dad.
I know what I said about not needing a man, but right now I am terrified and want my old man. I need him to tell me this is all a dream and there are no monsters lurking in the shadows ready to jump out and get me.
That doesn’t happen though. Cole, who is married to my adopted sister, Morgan, is the first to arrive. He immediately goes into action and disposes of the cat, so I don’t have to keep seeing the poor creature.
My father arrives with my Uncle, Striker, and they hurl curse words and point fingers going through a list of possible suspects. My dad wants to call the police, but Striker talks him out of it. Cole suggests a different plan. One that involves using one of the clubwhores to dye her hair and take over my identity while I am sent to Tennessee to stay with my cousin, Sara, in Webb Hollow.
I don’t like the plan. I’m no coward even though that message
I wasn’t even given a cell phone. After the shit that happened to Sara when she was taken my family isn’t taking any chances. So why in the hell are they sending me to stay with the men who took her?
My mother said it is better to trust the devil you know than the one you don’t.
So here I am, sitting by myself, sweating to damn death in the summer heat on a smelly bus headed to Tennessee, leaving my fate in the hands of men I want nothing to do with. At least that is what my family believes. The moment I get the chance I will return straight to Drag Creek. Back to my life or set out to make a new one, because fuck being treated like a problem that needs solving.
Chapter Two
—Reaper—
Webb Hollow, Tennessee
“Let’s talk in my office,” Hades calls out as he walks past the bar where I am perched enjoying a cold one after a long ass motherfucking day. Busted my back for eight hours in the blazing Tennessee heat overseeing a new build. That damn prospect, Eugene, was supposed to be doing that shit, but motherfucker has been missing.
Boogeyman probably killed the dumbass. Wouldn’t be the first time.
I grab my longneck bottle and follow him. Shit’s been fuckin’ tense these past weeks. Between Boogeyman’s stunt, MaryAnn and Cupid at each other’s throats, and Uno ready to toss his bitch on her ass, we don’t need any more damn drama. But as I walk behind my Prez and see the stressed grip he has on the back of his neck, I get the feeling he is about to lay some shit on my shoulders to lessen his burden.
That’s what brothers do though. We carry our share of the load.
“Close that door,” he orders.
I shut the door as he slumps down in his chair behind his desk.
I grab a chair and wait for the other shoe to drop. “What’s up?”
“Got a job for you. Sara’s got a cousin coming down from Kentucky. Need you to watch over her.”
I squint at him and sigh. “Can’t one of the prospects do it. I’m swamped with new jobs at the company. I don’t have time to babysit pussy.”
His jaw ticks and he leans forward. “You having trouble reading? Knowing where you fall in line? What’s this patch say on my vest?” he fingers the word president like I need a damn reminder.
Rolling my eyes. I shake my head. “I don’t need this bullshit, Hades. I respect you, but I got a lot on the line right now.”
“So. Do. We. I’m giving this responsibility to you because I trust you. She’s not simply pussy. Harley is the daughter of Rebel Black. I know you won’t let me down on this. I’m counting on you. Her life may depend on you.”
“Fuck,” I grumble.
“Exactly. She should arrive in an hour. Need you to pick her up. Take her by my place so she can see Sara, but she needs to go with you. She has a stalker. Someone broke into her car and left a used condom in the driver’s seat. Twice. Left a dead cat on the doorstep of her apartment and wrote, “you’re next,” in the animal’s blood on the door. Her father is livid. Until we know the threat is over I want her by your side but not in your bed. She’s off limits.”
I make a sour face. I’m a mean bastard but don’t like anyone hurting animals and threatening little girls like a fucking coward.
“Guess I’d better put a bitch seat on my bike. Where’s Zo Zo?” My fist balls hating the idea of it already. No one rides on the back of my bike. Never thought I would see the day I let a broad have a seat behind me.
“Already called him. He’s at his garage.”
Shaking my head, I toss my empty beer in the trash as Hades laughs. “Good Luck.”
“Eat my ass,” I grumble and go out the back door.
At the garage, Zo Zo is waiting for me wearing a shit eating grin.
“Don’t even.”
Holding his palms out, he chuckles, and I pull my bike into the bay.
After I park and get off I turn around to find half the fucking club watching me like a Goddamned side show. Boogeyman, Cupid, Uno, Cocky, and Terror to name a few.
“The fuck you staring at?”
“Never thought we’d see the day. Brings a damn tear to my eye,” Boogeyman announces and wipes under his eye being a dramatic dick.
“When’s the big day,” Uno questions.
“Are you motherfuckers drunk or just that fuckin’ dumb. You know what—don’t even answer that.”
“You sure you’re gonna be able to ride with a big pair of tits pressing against your back, making your cock grow hard, while the vibration of the seat tickles your ass?” Cupid pipes in.
“Fuckin’ cocksuckers,” I mutter to myself and pull out my smokes. They’re such bastards. Putting a seat on the back of my bike changes nothing.
It means nothing.
No hidden meaning.
A courtesy.
Nothing more.
I’ll never settle down and claim a bitch.
Lighting up my Marlboro, I try to ignore them, but it is no use. My brothers won’t stop ribbing me until I snap.
“Make sure you let her know how big your dick is, so she doesn’t try to run at the sight of you, pretty boy.”
They can talk smack all they want. Just because I take care of my appearance doesn’t mean shit. I like to smell good. Nothing wrong with it. “Boogeyman, your one to talk with your bitch painting your nails and curling your hair or is that Terror and his bitch. You’re both so pussy whipped I can’t tell you apart.” I flick my ashes on his boot.
“Get the fuck out of here,” Zo Zo calls from behind me. “You whores are making my head hurt.”
As I am backing out of the bay, Cupid hollers, “Show it to her.”
“You’re sick. You know that, right?”
He shrugs. “The ladies seem to love me.”
“Except for MaryAnn,” Boogeyman snarls at him.
Cupid shoves him, and Terror is stepping between them. Boogeyman must know what is eating at their asses. Every damn time MaryAnn and Cupid get in the same room it’s like a damn drama explosion. I’m afraid Hades will have to do something about it soon.
I’m not touching that shit.
I shake my head and get on the road.
———
Sitting on my Harley outside the bus stop I watch as the Greyhound comes to a stop. I don’t know what this chick looks like, but Hades said I’d know her when I see her. Whatever the fuck that means. I hope she hurries the hell up. Been sitting here roasting for thirty minutes. I’m tired, horny, and hungry. Not a good combination. I’m a cranky son of a bitch.
Two older women step off followed by a skeevy looking fucker with a bloody nose. As soon as he catches sight of me the fucker takes off running.
I’m tempted to chase after him for the hell of it. I’m in a raw mood and need to kick the shit out of something or someone. He’d do just fine. I start to get off my bike when a pair of yellow high heels start down the bus steps attached to tan legs, that I can’t help but gaze at and travel the rest of the way up her body. Low cut Daisy Dukes hug her hips. Her finger circles her navel ring, drawing my attention to the exposed skin. The shirt she is wearing leaves very little to the imagination as the white lace of her bra plays peek-a-boo teasing at giving me a view of her Goddamned nipples.
I suck in a breath as she pushes her sunglasses to the top of her head and her eyes meet mine.
A coy smirk stretches across her thick red lips and she stalks toward me. This must be Harley Black. There is no mistaking her striking resemblance to Sara, Hades’ old lady. She’s shorter, curvier, and in my opinion ten times sexier as she struts, knowing damn good and well I am liking what I see. I never much cared for the BRRMC, but one damn thing is for sure, their bitches got damn good genes.
My Prez was right, I see her and definitely know exactly how off limits and motherfuckin’ big ass trouble she has written all in her smile and hidden behind her big innocent blue eyes as she approaches me.
I cock an eyebrow at her. “Harley, I presume?”
She rolls her eyes. “That’s right. You must be my handler.” Her long red fingernail pecks at my name patch on my cut. “Reaper.”
I can’t help but notice specks of blood on the toe of her shoe. “You wanna tell me what happened on the bus between you and that fucker with the bloody nose?”
