Reaper: Lotus MC Motorcycle Romance, page 1
reaper
Lotus MC Book 1
Cala Riley
contents
Content Warning
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
Author Note
Author Bio
Acknowledgments
Also by Author
Copyright @ 2023 by Cala Riley
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, except for brief quotes used for reviews and certain other non-commercial uses, as per copyright laws. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover Design: Y’all That Graphic
Editor: My Brother’s Editor
Formatting: Dark Ink Designs
content warning
Authors Note:
Before you start binge reading Reaper, we wanted to warn you about possible triggers. Or mainly one. Like most of our books this one does contain violence. However, at the beginning of Reaper there is on the page Domestic Abuse against our heroine Natalie (Not by our hero, Reaper). The last thing we want to do is trigger you if you are a survivor. For a more detailed list of TW please check our website.
If you or anyone you know need help, please call the National Domestic Abuse Hotline:
800-799-7233
This one is for those who have been knocked down and gone through hell. We hope you find your Reaper. This one is for you.
prologue
Most girls dream of their happily ever after.
The house with the white picket fence. Their two-point-five children. The doting husband who is successful and supports the family.
I had those dreams too once.
Then reality set in.
Soon the fairy tale turned into a horror story.
How did it change so quickly?
When did my perfectly normal life turn into this nightmare?
As I lie in bed, cold and alone, I try to pinpoint where it all went wrong. Was it the first time he raised his voice at me? Or maybe the time I accidentally stained his favorite shirt, which ended with a red cheek?
All I know is by the time we got here, I lost myself along the way.
I became numb and stopped believing his lies. He didn’t love me like he promised and it was never an accident like he said. Most of all, I stopped believing I was to blame.
I have to get out.
The longer I stay here, the higher my chances of not making it out of this alive.
one
Something isn’t right.
I don’t know how I know it, but my gut is telling me that there’s something wrong, and my guts never lead me astray.
“Wrath,” I call out.
He heads over to me as I watch the men load the old-school Aerostar van. One of the girls from the club will be in the passenger seat while one of the patched members drives.
The fake baby in the car seat in the back completes the image.
“What’s up, Pres?” Wrath asks as soon as he’s at my side.
I don’t normally come to these runs, but lately we have had a couple hit by a rival MC, the Reno Renegades.
The Medina Cartel aren’t the type to allow mistakes though, so the hits have been coming out of our pockets. If it gets out, the cartel may cut their losses moving onto another runner.
Of course our rival will be at the top of the list.
“Do we still have that backup car out back?” I ask.
He nods. “Yeah, why?”
“Pull the van into the warehouse along with the car. Then send the guys on a useless task. Me and you are going to transfer the product over before letting them leave.”
He doesn’t question it. He only moves to make it happen. That’s why he’s my sergeant at arms. He’s my yes-man, always jumping to follow my command. I can always count on him to back me on any votes as well.
Colt gives me an odd look from across the yard. He’s usually the one in charge of runs as he’s my vice president, but I can’t shake this feeling that something else is going on. I haven’t voiced my concerns yet.
Colt is a transfer from another chapter. He came over about two years after I became fully patched because he wanted out of his hometown. My father groomed him along with me for our positions.
At first, I was angry. I wanted Wrath to be my VP, but then I realized why he couldn’t be. He would never oppose me. My second in command needs to be willing to stand up to me. To show me all of the possible options.
I love Wrath to death, but the man would never be that for me.
So I accepted Colt with open arms. Problem is, he’s been acting cagey lately. Making me question his loyalty.
Wrath talks to him a moment before heading to the van. Colt heads my way.
“Wrath said you wanted the guys to do one last sweep of the roads before we head out. Anything I should know about?”
I shake my head. “Being extra careful. These hits have been taking money from our pockets. We can’t afford to keep bleeding money.”
“You’re right. I was thinking maybe we split up this run. Change the route randomly. Send one crew on the anticipated route with guns blazing type of thing. Try to grab one alive and see how they keep finding out routes.”
I rub my hand on my chin. “Do that. Wrath and I have another issue to attend to, but I trust you can handle it.”
He nods. “I’ve got it.”
His phone rings, making me narrow my eyes.
This isn’t the time to be taking random phone calls, families be damned.
He gives me a tight smile. “It’s my ma. She’s been wanting me to come visit. I’m going to take this quickly.”
As he steps away, answering the phone with hushed tones, I wonder if he could have flipped on us. Could he be working against us?
He’s on the phone for nearly ten minutes, arguing with whoever it is. Colt has always had a rough relationship with his mother, but I’ve never seen him this worked up over it. Maybe it’s not his mom on the other end. Maybe it’s someone else.
I don’t have much time to ponder it though. Wrath comes jogging back over to me as the rest of the guys come back.
“Alright.” Colt gets the men’s attention as soon as he hangs up. “Jug, you are in the van with Cheryl. Remember to drive smart. You’re supposed to be a couple with their kid. Don’t attract any unwanted attention. Kicks, Lemon, Poker, and Widow will escort you. Spider, Midnight, Fang, and Cueball, you’re with me. Head out and call if there are any issues.”
I watch as they head out, hanging back to listen to Colt give his speech to the group he kept back with him.
“I had Trigger update their GPS to a new route. We are going to let them head on their way while we ride the original route. Strap up and expect trouble. Any questions?”
When no one speaks up, they head out as well, Colt nodding my way. I dip my chin, waiting for them to leave before I turn to Wrath.
“Let’s get the product to the drop-off. Call Trigger and have him change the GPS again. Have them routed as if they are on the way, but then get them back here. I don’t need them showing up at the drop, making us look incompetent,” I say quietly.
Wrath nods as he pulls out his phone, making the call as we head toward the warehouse. I snort when I see the way he loaded the product. The van had plenty of room to carry it all, but the car did not. The back seat is loaded down, blankets thrown over the drugs. He even has some on the floorboard of the passenger seat. He hangs up the phone, leaning against the car.
“Best I could do, boss. Short notice and all.”
I shake my head, laughing. “Get in. I don’t want any bikes. They draw too much attention. If the Renegades have a look out on our normal routes, they won’t notice us this way.”
He shrugs as he crams himself into the passenger seat as I climb into the driver’s seat.
“This is going to be a fun ride,” he says sarcastically, making me chuckle.
I start the car and head out.
We ride in silence. Wrath’s eyes never stop taking in the road. I appreciate the vigilance. Once out of Nye County, things get a little trickier. I don’t own any cops this far north, but you know who does? The Reno Renegades. Getting stopped up here would be a fucking disaster, especially with just the two of us.
Wrath’s phone rings, drawing his attention from the road.
“It’s Colt,” he tells me, answering on speaker.
“Yea
“Whoever’s been fucking with us weren’t waiting for us on the original route. They met the van on the new route. You already suspected that would happen though, didn’t you?” he asks, sounding pissed off.
I clear my throat. “I had my suspicions. Somehow they are tracking the van. We need to check it over with a fine-tooth comb.”
I look at Wrath. His frown tells me he’s suspicious too. He doesn’t understand why I lied to Colt. He won’t question me though.
Truth is, I think Colt may be a problem. One I’m going to have to solve, but with him being my vice president, I can’t just off him. There’s a process that must be followed. If I killed him now without evidence, I’d lose the trust in my men.
No, I need irrefutable evidence that he’s selling us out. He’s a legacy like me so it will take hard proof that he is a traitor.
“I don’t know, man. How would they have gotten to the van?” Colt asks, sounding perplexed.
“That’s the problem. We have no idea. So sweep the van, then torch it. If we find nothing, we will move on from there.”
Colt is quiet a moment before he breathes out a sigh. “I know you don’t want to believe it, but I think someone ratted us out that the route changed.”
No shit.
“Let’s not jump the gun. Do as I said, and we will meet you back at the clubhouse for a meeting.”
I nod to Wrath. He hangs up without waiting for Colt to respond.
He’ll be cursing me, but I don’t have the patience to deal with him right now.
“Do you think he’s right?” Wrath asks after a moment.
I shrug. “That’s a future problem for us to deal with. We need to focus on what we have right here and now. The Medina Cartel have been good partners for a while, but that can change at any moment. I hate that we don’t have more backup, but as long as everything goes off without a hitch, we should be fine.”
He doesn’t say another word, but I know he’s thinking about it. About who could be a traitor.
Only time will tell.
“The potatoes are cold, Natalie.”
I flinch as he tosses his fork onto his plate. The sound of metal hitting the ceramic echoes throughout the quiet house.
This is how it always is. It’s never good enough for him. Nothing I do ever is.
If I’m lucky, he will berate me for a while before deciding to go out and fuck someone else as my punishment.
He thinks I care.
I don’t.
I feel bad for whatever poor girl gets sucked into his charming persona. She’s as much a victim as I am.
Even so, I don’t feel that bad. If he’s with her, then he’s not here with me. He’s not using his tongue to reprimand me or his fists to teach me lessons. My body will be safe for a little while at least.
“I’m talking to you. Are you even going to apologize?” he spits from across the table.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize robotically, even though I know it won’t make a difference.
I don’t recognize this meek girl I’ve become. I used to be so full of life. Always laughing. Hanging out with the girls from work.
Then I met the man of my dreams.
Or so I thought.
William Danworth.
An investment banker from Chicago here on business.
I suppose that should have been my first red flag. What does an investment banker even do?
Still, he had a fancy watch and wore nice looking clothes. He took me out to the best restaurants and bought me gifts. He was older, but that was part of the appeal. A man nine years my senior wanting me.
When we were together, it was as if I was the only person in his world.
I wanted to make him happy.
So if he said my skirt was a little too short, I stopped wearing it. Then my top showed off too much cleavage. He wanted a woman who only showed the goods to him. So I bought conservative clothes.
I went from being fresh out of high school working a dead-end waitressing job while I tried to figure out my life to being a kept woman. The perfect trophy girlfriend.
I learned quickly not to speak when he was talking to others. To smile and look pretty, but never offer an opinion.
I became a shell of who I used to be.
He isolated me from everyone I knew.
After three months of dating, he convinced me to move out of my apartment with my roommate and move into his place.
After six months, I was no longer working. He didn’t want his woman to be a lowly waitress. He promised he would pay for my schooling so I could do something else.
Now a year in, I see all the lies. The way he manipulated me in a way that made me dependent on him.
He no longer hides who he is from me. He doesn’t care if I hear his shady business.
“Are you even listening to me?” William scoffs. “Of course not. Such a fucking ditz. I should have known all that blonde hair was hiding an empty fucking head.”
The plate crashes against the wall as he rages.
I try to control my breathing. I know what’s coming next.
I got lost in my thoughts and now I’ll pay the price.
William pushes the table until it slams into my stomach. I groan, but try to remain upright. If I fall, he won’t stop. He will use his feet.
His punches hurt less than the point of his shoes.
“You stupid fucking bitch. Do you think I enjoy punishing you? You had such potential. I should make you a whore instead of trying to civilize you. You embarrass me.”
I don’t respond. I never do.
Instead, I watch the spittle fly from his mouth as he screams at me. By the end of his tirade, his throat will hurt, which will be my fault too. That’s when his hands will start to fly.
It doesn’t take long.
First, a fist to my temple. It disorients me enough to miss the next one to my stomach. This one tips my chair over, causing my head to crack against the ground.
I already know I’ll have another concussion. This will be my third.
How many before it causes permanent brain damage?
After the first time, when I went to the hospital, I learned it was better to stay home and pray I don’t die rather than risk the trip to the hospital.
They ask too many questions.
Pain lances through my side as I feel his foot connect. It takes everything in me to choke back the sob that wants to come out because noise only enrages him further.
I’m curled into a ball on the floor, trying to protect myself the best I can. It’s a hard thing to do.
Do I protect my stomach so I don’t have internal bleeding? Or my head so I don’t lose any more brain cells? What about the back? If he hits me too hard there I could be paralyzed.
Lord only knows what he would do if I was unable to follow his directions exactly as he lays out.
Is tonight the night he will finally go so far and kill me? Surely death would be better than this.
He leans down, yelling in my face, but I’m not here in this moment anymore. With every fist or foot to my body, I’m pretending I’m somewhere else. Anywhere, but here being abused by the man who claimed he would love me.
I have no idea how long passes with him throwing verbal abuse in between the physical.
His phone rings, drawing his attention away from me. I wheeze as I attempt to breathe. Thank God for whoever is on the other end of that line.
“Yeah?” He pauses. “Fucking Kingston. Our Lotus contact doesn’t know where it is?” William curses before pacing. After several moments of silence, he huffs out a breath. “Fine. I’ll handle it.”
He comes over to me, leaning down into my face.
“Clean this shit and yourself up. You’re a fucking mess.”
