Tag: romantic suspense

Trigger Warnings for A FATAL PROSPECT

Here are the potential triggers for A Fatal Prospect.

  • Drug and Alcohol Use: Some characters use drugs and drink alcohol.
  • Childhood Sexual Assault: Several characters have a history of being molested as children.
  • Guns and Violence: My vigilante bikers use guns to fight the bad guys, as well as other violent means of taking out the trash.
  • PTSD: Multiple characters experience flashbacks, anxiety, anger, and other symptoms of PTSD.
  • Sexual Assault of a Minor: A character under the age of 18 is sexually assaulted (off page).

This book will break you. Have tissues ready.
(I promise, Cliff and Olivia get their HEA in the fourth and final book!)

If you feel that you won’t be safe reading A Fatal Prospect, please don’t risk your health. As a rape survivor and someone with PTSD, I wish many books came with a list of trigger warnings. No book is worth your well-being.

Please also note that I don’t necessarily condone or endorse the themes contained in this book. I do, however, wish it was legal to kill rapists.

If you’ve read A Fatal Prospect and feel that I may have missed something, please email me at elizabethbaronebooks@gmail.com.


A Fatal Prospect
River Reapers MC, Book 3

Cover Reveal: April 14th
Release Day: April 28th
ARCs Now Available
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Our enemies of past and present are uniting to put us in our graves. Not even death would destroy our love, but death isn’t the only thing that’s fatal…

Cliff

I’ve finally got Olivia, but she can’t give me the two things I want most: three words so I know I’m not in this alone, and a family so I can redeem all the horrible things I’ve done. My past is still chasing me, and the only way I can let it go is if I stop running and face it. I can’t allow the monster in my blood to take over, but it’s rising to the surface and I can’t fight it much longer.

Olivia

After all I’ve been through, I’m never giving away my heart, even if my heart has other plans. War strikes before Cliff and I get a chance to figure it out. When a teen football player is unspeakably violated, only my club can avenge him. A rival motorcycle club from the past is also looking for revenge, just as I realize my true feelings for Cliff.

When someone betrays us, we’ll pay the ultimate price, in both blood and love…

A FATAL PROSPECT is the third book in the River Reapers MC series, a dark romance with a body count. Some content may be disturbing to some readers.

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Catch Up on the River Reapers MC Series

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Photo by Aline de Nadai on Unsplash

Listen to the Playlist That Inspired A FATAL PROSPECT

I killed everything we were
Baby, murder was the case
-“27 Hours,” BANKS

How can I describe A Fatal Prospect‘s playlist? It’s yearning and suspenseful, angry and desperate, heartbreaking and uplifting—just like the book.

Some of my favorite songs from this playlist are: “In Too Deep,” by The Sweeplings; “City on Fire” by Tyler Hilton; “Heartbeat” by VÉRITÉ.

Have a listen, then tell me which songs you love the most!

And don’t forget to pre-order A Fatal Prospect for only $2.99! The price goes up after release day, so snag that discount now.

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A Fatal Prospect Available April 28th

Cliff has finally won Olivia’s commitment, but she won’t give him the two things he yearns for the most: her heart and a family. After all the trauma she’s been through, she’s scared to give away her heart, even if her heart has other plans. The war on the horizon strikes before they have a chance to work it out.

When a teen football player is unspeakably violated, only Olivia, Cliff, and the rest of the River Reapers MC can avenge him. A rival motorcycle club from the past is also looking for revenge just as Olivia realizes her true feelings for Cliff. When someone betrays them, they’ll pay the ultimate price, in both blood and love.

A Fatal Prospect is the third book in the River Reapers MC series, a dark romance with a body count.

Pre-order now for only $2.99! Regular price $4.99.

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Pre-Order A FATAL PROSPECT, Book 3 in the River Reapers MC Series

Earlier this summer I announced I won’t be publishing anything in 2020, so that I can spend the next few months “writing ahead.” I don’t want another flareup of my UCTD derailing my career, ever again. If that means purposely slowing things down even further, even if only temporarily, so be it.

After much thought, I’ve finally set a release date for A Fatal Prospect. I know a lot of you are really looking forward to this book. I know you wanted it to escape into during all of the madness that has been this year. I really wish I could give you this book right now. Publishing doesn’t work that way, though, especially not with a chronic illness.

There are many moving parts that you as a reader will likely never see: booking cover designs, editing, ARCs, promotion companies, advertising . . . The list goes on! It isn’t just me and my UCTD that I have to work around. I work with many other professionals, all of whom have other clients and their own lives to schedule around. When all was said and done, the date I chose is the very soonest I could comfortably schedule a release date, especially factoring in that shit happens and, when shit inevitably will happen, I’ll still be able to release this book on time without penalty.

(Yes, penalty—if I were to miss my release date, I could lose my Amazon pre-order privileges for a year!)

That date is . . .

Drum roll, please . . .

A Fatal Prospect
River Reapers MC, Book 3
Available March 29th, 2021

(Blurb and cover reveal coming soon)

🖤🏍💀 Pre-Order Now 💀🏍🖤

A Fatal Prospect and its spinoff novella will be worth your wait, I promise!

“Better Than Her Hating Herself” | Alternate Scene from A RISKY PROSPECT

While writing A Risky Prospect, I knew how I wanted to handle the scene. I just wasn’t sure if I should. To help me decide, I wrote an alternate version.

Spoiler Alert: This alternate scene contains spoilers from A Risky Prospect. Read at your own risk!

♠

I stare after Olivia, frowning. The two shot glasses remain upside down on the bar, the remnants of tequila splattered across the wood. I’ve never known her to leave a mess behind, never mind run out without even grabbing someone to stand in for her. I’m even more shocked that she didn’t let Mark know personally.

What really trips me up, though, is the look on her face when she looked at her phone. I know technology has advanced a lot in the past twenty years, influencing the way people do almost everything, but I also know that if DCF needed her for something, they would’ve called. Not texted.

I tap a finger on the bar, torn. Do I follow her, or do I go get my brothers first?

“You’re late,” Beer Can says from beside me.

“We’ve got a problem,” I reply.

I explain as quickly as I can, then run after her, promising Beer Can I’ll text as soon as I know where she is. Just as I step outside, she flies out of the parking lot. I’ve heard the phrase “like a bat out of hell” a million times, but the people who spoke it never met Olivia.

Her hair flies out behind her, black coils highlighted by the glow from the street light. It’s an alive thing, a harbinger of revenge. She’s the embodiment of the Sludge Specter insignia on my cut and the hoodie she was wearing behind the bar. My hoodie. I watch her disappear, my bones growing colder. I feel sick to my stomach.

Something bad is going down.

I jump onto the Screamin’ Eagle, damn near flooding the thing in my rush to get it started. Thankfully I get it on the first kick, a small flash of luck in this cold, dark night.

It’ll probably never happen again.

I take off in the same direction she went, adrenaline flooding my system, flushing out the heaviness and ache in my limbs. Every muscle is coiled, my body warm as it gears up to fight.

Though light traffic crawls the streets, Olivia is nowhere in sight. It doesn’t matter, because I already know where she’s going. I head to the Mallane Lane address Vinny texted me weeks ago, my fist gripping the throttle, my head a scramble.

What will I find when I get there?

I pull up in front of the teal house. In the dim light, it looks more like mud. A single light floods one window. There isn’t even a porch light on. A Thunderbird sits in the garage, but Olivia’s Street Glide is absent.

I roll past, frowning. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe she really did have a work emergency. Everything else was all in my head, some sick need to concoct excuses to be near her.

Whether she wants me or not, she’s got her hooks in me, ensuring I’ll never let her go. The only way I’ll ever get her out of my system is if I get as far from her as possible. That’ll never happen. She’s poison floating in my veins, a toxic potion for which there is no antidote. Loving her is going to kill me, and I’m not so sure that’s a bad thing.

Clenching the throttle, I pull away from the teal house. Even as it fades from my mirror, adrenaline keeps pumping through me. I pull over several blocks away. If she’s handling a work emergency, she’ll answer her phone, exasperated. If she isn’t, well, I still have to figure out where she is.

With the bike rumbling between my thighs, I call her. I turn up the volume on the phone so I can hear each ring over the engine, can count how many pass. Either I’m wasting time or I’m getting fired.

Her voicemail picks up: “It’s Olivia. You know what to do.”

I end the call, torn. If she’s dealing with a work thing, she might not be able to pick up. I just can’t think of where else she might have gone, if she really is after Greg.

The phone rings in my hand. My heart stops, relief flooding me only for a second. It’s Vinny, not Olivia.

“Yeah?” I brace myself for the warning.

“You at Greg’s?” he asks, breathless.

“I rode by. What’s up?”

“I peeked at some court documents. I’ve been checking every so often, see if anything else involving our buddy pops up.”

“Okay,” I press. With no direction, the adrenaline turns to nausea.

“His wife filed for divorce,” Vinny says.

“When?”

“This morning.”

My heart stops again, this time kickstarting with a fresh wave of adrenaline. This time, it’s accompanied by fear. “I’m circling back. Meet me there.” I hang up, wishing I’d thought to grab my piece.

I turn the Screamin’ Eagle around and blip the throttle, riding in the direction I came from. My pulse races with the single thought looping through my head: I hope I’m not too late, not too late, too late.

I roll to a stop in front of the teal house, right behind the Street Glide. The front door stands open, darkness spilling from the house into the street. It’s a quiet neighborhood, the kind where parents let their kids play in the street without worrying about them getting hit. The kind of street where people don’t shrug when they hear a gunshot—they call the police.

I shut off my bike and kick the stand into place. Then, without glancing around, I stroll up the front walk and onto the porch.

I creep inside, eyes straining to make out anything in the dark. The porch serves as a sort of mudroom, opening into a living room. At least, I think it’s a living room. I make out the silhouette of a couch, walk into a coffee table. Its edge bites into my shin, the whole thing sliding back, its feet scuffing against the floor with a whine like a long, drawn out Fuuuuuck.

Which is exactly what I think, standing here in the dark, ears strained for any sign that he knows I’m here. Then again, if I wanted to be stealthy, I should’ve left the bike around the corner.

Fuck it.

“Olivia?” I shout.

A thud responds.

“Olivia?” I glance around, still not accustomed to the dark, completely unfamiliar with the layout. Another thud answers, a strange game of Marco Polo. Pulse throbbing in my throat, I move in the direction I think it came from—toward a set of stairs. The toe of my boot nudges the bottom step. I climb them two at a time.

When I get what I think is halfway up, the sound of thrashing crashes into my ears, a frenzied cacophony of elbows and feet hitting the floor—the symphony of a struggle. I fly up the remaining steps, not even thinking anymore, just moving. I burst into a spare room. Instead of a bed, there’s a desk and a dresser, closet doors standing open, half of the clothing removed. I take this all in even as my focus zeroes in on the floor, on Olivia, pinned under Greg. His fingers wrap around her neck, all of his weight forced on her throat.

“Was it like this?” he asks, over and over.

Her face is a mottled shade of purple and blue. She scratches at his hands, even as the rest of her flops underneath him.

I take two steps and hook my arm around his neck, yanking him back. He drags her with him, and she goes limp, eyes rolling in the back of her head. “Let her go!” I roar in his ear. He releases her, his gurgling nearly drowning out the thud as she hits the floor. She doesn’t move.

“Olivia!” I call, tightening my hold on him. She remains still. “Olivia!” I scream again. I shake him, punctuating each syllable. His eyes bulge, his flesh speckled with purple as I squeeze the air from him.

Her hand twitches.

“Olivia,” I beg. “Come on, babe.”

She sucks in air, head tipping back as she gulps, filling her lungs. I sigh in relief, some of the anger fading from my marrow.

“That’s it. Can you sit up?”

“Asshole,” she croaks, and I grin.

Greg thrashes, twisting out of my grip. He slips away and crouches, a barking cough exploding from his lungs.

“Slippery motherfucker,” I mutter. He lunges at me, catching me off guard and knocking me back. Most other men know when to stay down when fighting me. Not this one. There’s a strain in his eyes, his manic need to control Olivia overpowering all sense.

Because that’s what rape is about, when you boil it down: power.

His knuckles catch my cheekbone, blood spurting from a small cut in near slow motion. My shoulder blades press into the hardwood floor as his weight settles on me. He draws his fist back for another blow.

I was so busy worrying about Olivia, I didn’t even notice him slipping out of my grasp. He caught me by surprise again by recovering so quickly. It’s easy to forget what adrenaline can do, the strength that desire for control breeds.

All of this flies through my head in sync with his fist reconnecting with my face. Another catches me in the ribs. I grunt but keep still, drawing calm in with every breath. Anger won’t get me out of this hold.

“Don’t!” Olivia screams.

I crane my neck to see behind Greg. She kneels on the floor, her gun trained on Greg. Two bright red handprints encircle her neck, some of the bruise already turning purple. The sight sends an upsurge of anger through me, those red handprints encroaching my vision until they’re all I see.

I shove Greg off me, sending him careening into the dresser. This time, I don’t give him a chance to recover. I’m on him, gripping his head with one hand. I glance at the corner of the dresser, so like the coffee table downstairs that I smashed my shin into. I pull his head back, then slam it into the corner.

He cries out, hands flailing, fingers gripping my cut. They squeak against the leather.

I do it again.

His mouth opens, pleading eyes hooked on mine. But I still see those handprints, still see her marbled skin, her mouth wide and gasping but getting no air. It’s too easy to fall back in time, to imagine younger versions of them in a similar pose, my girl begging no.

So I do it again, and again, more times than I can count, but not enough, never enough for what he did to her. What he almost did tonight. His lips move in a “No” and I smile, because isn’t that what she told him? I smile and I smile and I smile.

Then I let him go. He crumples to the floor in a heap.

“Fuck,” Olivia explodes. “Is he dead?”

She rushes over and checks his pulse, her finger smearing the blood running down his neck.

I step back, chest heaving. I can’t catch my breath. I need a cigarette. My limbs shake as the adrenaline leaves my system. I lower myself to the floor, feeling utterly drained.

I should be panicking. I just killed a veteran—again. That’s a ticket straight back to the pen. I tip my head back. In a moment, I’ll make a few calls, get a cleanup crew going. Right now, I need my head and body to sync up.

“You fucking killed him,” Olivia scolds.

I look at her, gauging how angry she is. “Sorry,” I offer.

“That was my kill, Cliff. Fuck!” She turns, pacing the room, one hand curled into a fist, the other still clenched around her gun.

I wonder if she’s going to shoot me. I’m not sure which would be worse: Olivia blowing my brains out, or going back to the pen. At least I know she’s safe. What’s another federal offense?

“I’m sorry,” I say again. I gather my strength back and climb to my feet. My stomach growls, the sound cutting through the room.

She wheels on me. “So that’s it, huh? Let’s just go grab dinner. No big deal, right?” She scowls.

Part of her will always hate me for this, for taking her kill. But what was I supposed to do?

The same beast lives inside me, the one that can’t be controlled. I try to explain, to tell her how even now, all I can see are the handprints on her throat. Just like part of me will always see my father on Lucy.

Instead, I let her hate me. It’s better than her hating herself.

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Get the official newsletter to stay in the loop. You’ll also immediately receive the standalone spinoff novella, Her Mercy.

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River Reapers MC Series

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“I Watch Her Take Her Power Back” | Bonus Scene from A RISKY PROSPECT

In this bonus scene, we see the pivotal scene in A Risky Prospect from Cliff’s POV.

Spoiler Alert: This bonus scene contains spoilers from A Risky Prospect. Read at your own risk!

♠

A work emergency—I don’t buy it. I give Olivia a head start, then I follow her. I keep several cars between us, just in case she really is going to work. I don’t want her to think I’m some kind of lovesick stalker, like Eli. But when she turns onto her street, I know for sure.

This has nothing to do with work.

I hang back, shutting off my headlight, and watch her go inside. Barely two minutes pass and she’s already mounting her bike again. Nothing is different—that I can see, anyway. Still, my gut tells me something is wrong.

So I follow her again.

She takes Spring Street, then turns onto Mallane Lane. I continue by. I don’t need to alarm her. She’s too focused, body bent forward, shoulders hunched.

Who lives on Mallane?

I circle back down Spring Street, taking a left onto Springdale Avenue. It’s the only other way to access Mallane. By the time I turn onto the road, her Street Glide is already cooling down in front of a teal house.

My pulse jumps in my throat.

I consider calling Ravage or even Donny, but there’s a slim chance this could be a client’s house. Even if it isn’t, I don’t want to step all over her toes again. That’s how we ended up here, this place where we don’t talk and I follow her like some kind of creep.

I thumb the throttle, two seconds away from leaving Mallane. This isn’t healthy. Olivia’s a grown woman. She can take care of herself. Bright white light flashes through a window—a strobe light. I frown. Nothing is adding up.

Something crashes on the second floor, shattering as it hits hard wood. It’s then I know. I have to get inside.

I shut off the bike and vault over it, barely registering whether I’ve moved the kickstand into place. My bike, the street, everything fades away, my focus solely on the house. I lunge up the steps, yank open the screen door. The front door is unlocked. I push it open and race inside, careening through a dark living room. The dim light from the street highlights a framed photo: Greg with his wild red hair, and a happy blonde bride.

This must be Greg’s house.

“Was it like this?” Olivia screams from upstairs.

I fly up the steps, hands tingling, fingers twitching for something to latch onto. I’m going to kill him, if she doesn’t first.

I hit the landing and turn toward the sound of her voice. Bright light spills from a bedroom into the hall, a beacon guiding me to her. I take a step toward the door. The blood pounding through my veins pulses even in my eyes. My vision becomes a tunnel of red.

Something thumps—a boot against a footboard, a desperate thrashing.

“Was it like this?” Olivia screams again, pain and fury breaking her voice.

My heart rockets into my throat. He’s got her, and he’ll kill her if I don’t get there now. I close the distance to the door and stop dead in the hall when I see her in the bedroom.

Olivia straddles Greg on the bed, their clothing littering the floor in a trail behind them. Her hands wrap around her neck, all of her weight pressed into his throat. He jerks underneath her, but she’s got him in the most vulnerable position a man can ever be in.

I stare as his face turns purple.

“Was it like this?” she shrieks again, tears running down her cheeks. She lets out a howl of pain, a growl of vengeance—a battle cry. Even as I gape in shock, my chest aches for her.

I’ll never know what it’s like to have survived what she survived, but I do know what it’s like to reach your limit, when you’ve had enough. When the phoenix of your broken soul rises, morphing into a beast whose thirst must be slaked. The evil of a man like Greg awakens that beast, and it won’t be stopped until its thirst is slaked.

So I watch her take her power back.

A part of me will always be shocked, knowing that the same hands that caressed me could do this. The rest of me will always be in awe.

Get More

The Next Book is on the way!

Get the official newsletter to stay in the loop. You’ll also immediately receive the standalone spinoff novella, Her Mercy.

Click here!

River Reapers MC Series

Read for FREE with Kindle Unlimited | Order a Signed Paperback

Read for FREE with Kindle Unlimited | Order a Signed Paperback

Read for FREE with BookFunnel | Order a Signed Paperback

Photo by Maan Limburg on Unsplash

River Reapers MC Series Reading Order + Extras

Can’t get enough of Cliff, Olivia, and the rest of the River Reapers? I put together a list of the complete series, in the author’s recommended reading order, plus all of the bonus content, short stories, miniseries, and more.

Happy reading! 🖤💋

A Disturbing Prospect (River Reapers MC, Book 1)

Whatever Cliff did to earn a life sentence, it must’ve been bad. That’s what Olivia thinks on her way to pick him up on his release day. But the ruggedly handsome ex-con with the gentle eyes can’t be all that bad, not when those killer hands touch Olivia like they were made for her. When their paths cross again, she realizes he might mean much more to her than just a one night stand in the back of a stranger’s car.

Olivia’s mother is missing, and Cliff is the key to finding her. Because the president of the local biker club they both work for has all the answers, and as Olivia gets closer to new prospect Cliff, she gets closer to finding her mother.

The club is the family Olivia’s sought her whole life, on the surface. The more entangled she becomes with Cliff and the club, the more she discovers that his life sentence and the club’s disturbing history have everything to do with her mother’s disappearance, and she never should’ve fallen for him in the first place.

A Disturbing Prospect is a slow burn, touch her and die, dark romance, and the first book in the River Reapers MC series.

Ebook
Signed Paperback
Serial
Bonus Content

Biker slang and club roles

Anatomy of a biker’s cut

Character guide

Trigger warnings

Playlist

Read Chapter 1

A Risky Prospect (River Reapers MC, Book 2)

Olivia’s mousy roommate Esther knows her biggest secret: how she “took care of” her stalker last semester with the help of her biker family. Now on graduation day, Esther needs her and the club’s help with a similar yet bigger problem. Before Olivia can ask the MC for another favor, her traumatic past walks into the clubhouse.

Her ex is the reason she can’t trust Cliff, the ruggedly handsome ex-con who helped her get rid of her stalker. Cliff risked going back to prison for her, and now he wants to make things between them official. In a perfect world, Cliff would be the one, but after the unspeakable things her ex did to her, she can’t let anyone close enough to hurt her again.

She couldn’t save herself back then, but she can protect Esther and her little sisters now. If the club won’t listen, she’ll make them. If her ex comes anywhere near her, she’ll “take him to the river,” too. And as her feelings for Cliff grow deeper, he’ll have to show her that he’s worth the risk.

A Risky Prospect is a slow burn, touch her and die, dark romance, and the second book in the River Reapers MC series.

Ebook
Paperback
Serial
Bonus Content

Her Mercy (A River Reapers MC Novella)

The last time Bree ran away, she put the love of her life Mercy in prison. Now that he’s out, he’s got to find her and convince her they belong together so they can both be free.

Bree has been running for decades. Every time she gets into trouble, the River Reapers MC covers her tracks. That’s how she met Mercy, the only man who’s ever loved her, and the reason she’s running again.

Mercy has an ache in his bones that not even freedom can soothe. When Bree disappeared, she put him in prison both metaphorically and physically.

Mercy needs to find Bree and reclaim the home they once found in each other. But Bree is still buckling under the weight of her own prison, and if Mercy doesn’t find her before her past does, she’ll disappear forever.

Her Mercy is a second chance, age gap, dark romance and is a prequel to the River Reapers MC series.

ebook
Paperback
Serial
Bonus Content

Glossary

Character Guide

Trigger warnings

Read Chapter 1

A Fatal Prospect (River Reapers MC, Book 3)

Olivia and Cliff survived a lifetime in the foster and prison system each, abandonment by family and friends, and most recently, a few bodies to “take to the river” with the help of their biker club. As the dust settles, now is finally the time for Cliff to convince Olivia to take the next step in their very offbeat romance. They were meant to be—he’s certain of it, but after everything she’s been through, Olivia is afraid to commit. Before he has a chance to tell her what’s on his mind and heart, war threatens to tear both them and the club apart.

When a teen football player is brutally violated, only Olivia, Cliff, and the River Reapers MC can avenge him. Now that Olivia’s a licensed social worker, she’s determined to get justice through the proper channels. The club’s running out of places to hide all her bodies, anyway. When the system is stacked against victims, making a bunch of high school athletes pay for their crimes proves trickier than anything Olivia’s ever done. Especially when a rival motorcycle club from the past is out for revenge and closing in.

The club is the family Olivia and Cliff both longed for their whole lives, but even families have rats. When someone betrays them, they’ll pay in both blood and love…

A Fatal Prospect is a slow burn, touch her and die, dark romance, and the third book in the River Reapers MC series.

ebook
paperback
serial
Bonus Content

Character guide

Glossary

Deleted scene: “Of all the lives I’ve taken”

The real story that inspired A Fatal Prospect

Excerpt: “The only thing that can catch me”

Excerpt: “It’s blood I want”

Playlist

Trigger warnings

Read Chapter 1

Spoiler-Free Bonus Content

Quarantine Chronicles (complete)

Halloween miniseries (complete)

The River Reapers go to Walmart (complete)

Summer bash miniseries (in progress)

Book Recaps

A Disturbing Prospect recap

A Risky Prospect recap

More books are coming soon! Join my email list to stay up to date.

Birthday: A River Reapers MC Short Story

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This short takes place toward the end of A Risky Prospect (River Reapers MC, Book 2), and contains some spoilers. Please read A Risky Prospect first!

Cliff

“Shit, fuck,” Lucy says, waddling into the kitchen with one hand on her belly and the other on her back. She isn’t due for another month, but she looks like she’s gonna pop any second. “Cliff!”

“What’s wrong?” I glance up from the parenting magazine I’ve been flipping through while waiting for her. “Isn’t your ultrasound at one? We’ve got time.”

“I know that,” she snaps. She pulls her long red hair up into a messy bun, reminding me a little of Olivia.

“Then what?” Maybe I should be alarmed, but ever since Olivia killed Greg and we got back together, I’ve been calm as fuck. The danger’s over. We can probably live the rest of our lives in peace.

Except my cousin glares down at me, her hands on her hips.

“What?” I repeat, feeling a little like squirming. “What did I do?”

“You forgot Olivia’s birthday!”

Shit, fuck indeed.

I blink up at her, head spinning. I don’t know how this happened. I can’t even blame it on the honeymoon phase I’ve been in. Olivia’s birthday should’ve been my first priority.

“Hey,” I accuse. “You forgot, too.”

“This isn’t about me!” Her hands fly as she tells me off. “You’re the boyfriend. It’s tomorrow, by the way.”

I open my mouth to argue but her glare deepens. By now I know better than to argue with pregnant Lucy. In her regular form she’s terrifying when she’s pissed. Between all the hormones and a bladder-crushing, rib-kicking Bunny, Lucy is on a whole new level of rampage.

“I know it’s tomorrow,” I mutter. “And you know, my birthday passed when we were in Lewisburg and neither one of you noticed.” I fake a pout.

“Wipe that off your face. You’re a guy. No one cares about your birthday.”

Feigning offense, I turn in my seat. “Gee thanks, Luce.”
“Olivia loves her birthday,” she continues. “I usually take her out drinking, and then she picks up some guy. But I can’t be a wingman like this!” Her lips tremble. “Cliff, you have to get her laid.”

“I think I can manage that.” I smirk.

“Not laid! I mean, she’ll love that, but you have to take her out. It’s got to be flashy. Olivia loves flashy. But not too flashy. Don’t propose,” she says, holding up a warning finger.

“I’m not gonna propose,” I mutter. “But what do you want me to do? If I go all out, she’ll freak out. You remember what happened when I asked her to move in with me.”

“Fuck,” she wails, and tears roll down her cheeks. “You’re right!”

“Don’t worry,” I soothe. I stand from the chair and take her into my arms. Her tears leave splotches on my gray T-shirt. “I’ll figure something out. It’ll be special but not too special.”

“Okay.” She sniffles. “We have to go. We’re gonna be late!” She pulls away, her face dry. Before I can say anything else, she’s out the door.

I stand in the kitchen, shaking my head. Pregnancy hormones are no joke. I know she’s serious about this, though. I just have no idea what I’m going to do.

#

By the time I drop Lucy back at her place and ride my motorcycle back to mine, I still don’t know. If I do anything overly romantic, Olivia will freak. I have to tread lightly.
I pace my small apartment, roaming from room to room as if something will give me a clue. Lucy says Olivia loves her birthday, but she hasn’t dropped so much as a hint. Then again, she’s had a lot going on, too. Between playing politics at her new job, nights bartending at The Wet Mermaid, and therapy, she’s barely had time for anything else. What she needs isn’t flashy.

A plan begins unfolding in my mind. It’s a risk, but if I can pull it off, it’ll be worth it. I start making calls. There’s no time to waste.

#

This year Olivia’s birthday falls on a Sunday, which is lucky for me. I pull into Lucy’s driveway in the morning, balancing the Screamin’ Eagle while I shut off the engine and shove the kickstand into place. The porch light is still on, which means Olivia hasn’t come out for her morning cigarette yet. I use my key and let myself in.

“Some fucking birthday,” Olivia says from the kitchen. “I can’t believe you guys forgot.” She stands with her back to me, her hands on her hips.

Lucy faces her and me. A ghost of a smile crosses her lips.
“We didn’t forget,” I say, closing the door behind me. I stroll down the hall and into the kitchen.

Olivia turns, her hands falling to her sides as she sees me. “What are you guys doing?”

“You,” I say, stepping closer to her and placing my hands on the small of her back, “and Lucy have somewhere to be.”

Her head tips back, her lips curling in curiosity. I lean down and place a quick kiss on them. Reaching into my cut, I pull out a small envelope and hand it to her.

Eyes dancing, she slides a finger under the flap and teases the envelope open. Slowly she slides out the printed card stock. “A massage? Really?” She stands on the balls of her feet and throws her arm around my neck.

“And a facial,” I say, meeting her halfway. I let her take my lips, smiling against her mouth as she peppers me with kisses.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she says between each kiss.

“It’s a girls’ day. You two better get going,” I tell her.

“Wait, right now?” She shakes her head. “We have Church.”

“It’s been cancelled. Go get pampered.” I smack her ass lightly and she lets out a little gasp.

“You expect me to believe Ravage cancelled? Yeah, right.”

“You got me. I got him to postpone to tonight. So once you’re all rubbed and relaxed, you have to come by the club house.”

“I’d rather you rub and relax me,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows. Lucy groans.

I take the card from Olivia and turn it over. “Here’s your itinerary.”

“Facial, one-hour massage, Church. Got it,” she says, and kisses me again. “We’d better go, Luce. It’s gonna be tight.” She makes a face, but I can tell she’s pleased. She throws her arms around my neck again. “See you tonight,” she says into my ear, and I know she doesn’t mean Church. If the rest of my plan goes well, neither of us will be sitting at that table.

Olivia

I stretch across the couch in the recovery area, balancing my glass of water on my stomach. “That was amazing,” I exclaim, drawing out the last word. “I don’t want to move.”

Lucy lies on her side on the couch across from me, her water on the coffee table between us. “Me either. I’ve heard of pregnancy massages, but I thought it was just some exorbitant bullshit. I wish I’d done this sooner.”

“I wish I could sneak in a hot stones session. I bet those feel amazing.” I lie in my puddle of bliss for another few seconds, closing my eyes.

“Duty calls,” Lucy chides.

I crack an eye open. She stands over me, her hands on her hips. “Huh?”

“You’ve got Church.” She reaches for my glass of water.

I wrap my fingers tighter around it. “I thought you didn’t approve of my club activities.”

“Since when have you cared what I think? Now up, up. We can come back another time.”

“Yeah, right. Did you see the pricing?” Grimacing, I surrender my glass of water and haul myself up.

She gives me a look.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She lifts a shoulder, but a subtle smile plays on her lips.

“What?” I insist.

“I know you have your thing about relationships,” she says, “but you don’t have to be like me.”

“I’m not like you,” I say, pointing at her belly. “One hundred percent not pregnant over here.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She waves a hand. “I just mean, you don’t have to be allergic to commitment. Especially when you’ve found one of the rare good ones.”

“I thought you didn’t approve of Cliff and me, either.”

She shrugs again. “I mean, it’s a little awkward. But it’s nothing that you can’t work through. You’ve said so yourself: you’re not really family.”

“No, Luce. I didn’t mean it like that. You are my family.”

“And Cliff is mine. I see how much he . . . cares for you. Trust me when I say, women have no problem throwing themselves at him, and he has no problem taking them to his bed. Even as an eight-year-old, I picked up on that. But when it comes to you, he doesn’t see anyone else. He can’t. You’ve bewitched him.” She chuckles. “Just . . . think about it.”

“Think about what?” I ask stubbornly. I already know how good Cliff is for me. He’s proven his loyalty over and over again. But it isn’t loyalty I need.

“Just think about it,” she repeats, grabbing her keys from the coffee table. She tosses them to me, and I miss them. They clink against the marble floor.

Grumbling, I bend over and retrieve them. “All right, Miss Daisy. Let’s get you home.”

I wish I was going home, too.

“Actually,” she says, “we have one more stop to make.”

I cock my head at her. “Luce, I’m gonna be late.”

“Then take me with you. We’ll just stop on the way to the strip club.”

I scoff. “You’re just gonna hang out in the bar?”

“We’re getting ice cream, so I’ll be totally happy.” She bats big green eyes at me.

“I hope your kid gets those eyes and uses them against you,” I say, turning and walking out of the spa.

#

I lead Lucy through the club house, past the dark stages and desolate tables. “Park it here,” I tell her, sitting her at one of the few tables that have normal chairs. “Hopefully I won’t be long.”

“I’m fine here,” she says through a mouthful of ice cream.
“Where did you even get a spoon?”

“I keep one in my purse.” She dips it into the half gallon again. “Want some?”

“That is all you.” I turn in a slow circle, realizing I didn’t see any other bikes outside. “Where the hell is everyone?”

“You’re on time for once,” she jokes. “You’ve thrown off the whole universe.”

I take the seat across from her. “Give me that spoon.”

“Uh-uh.” She pops it into her mouth. Reaching into her purse, she pulls out another and passes it to me.

I take a bite of ice cream, my brow furrowing. I can’t believe all these guys are late. They must’ve gone out for a ride without me. Figures. Even though they say they’re all for having a woman in their club, I bet they do this shit all the time.

The roar of motorcycles approaches, confirming my theory.

“They’re dead men walking,” I mutter, shoving my spoon into the ice cream again. “It’s my birthday, for fuck’s sake. They couldn’t be sexist another day?”

Lucy gives me a quizzical look.

“They rode without me!”

The door opens and a dozen people pour in. Donny walks in with Esther, her arms wrapped around a cake box inside a paper bag. Ravage and Shannon enter behind them, carrying several gift bags. The entire club is here. Abraham even brought his boyfriend, Rui.

“They didn’t ride without you,” Lucy says. She grabs the ice cream lid and snaps it into place.

Someone turns on music. Cliff strolls in last, a bottle of tequila in each hand. But it isn’t the tequila that makes me smile.

“I guess I’m going for a ride after all.”

#

I hug Cliff’s back, my thighs wrapped around his. The Screamin’ Eagle vibrates beneath us, conspiring with the tequila thrumming through my veins. I grind against the seat.

“Hurry,” I call into his ear.

With a twist of the throttle, he zips us forward. The dark night envelopes me, the streetlights bringing back flashes of the party. The speech Shannon gave, speaking about me as if she was an adoring mother. The shots Esther kept feeding me. The rounds of pool that Beer Can let me win. The way Cliff watched it all from the sidelines, letting me enjoy myself without hovering.

Lucy’s words repeat in my head: He doesn’t see anyone else. He can’t.

We pull into the parking lot for his building, Cliff evading cracks and potholes that could tip us over. It’s a good thing I didn’t drive myself. Lucy insisted she had to live vicariously through me and kept bringing me shots, too. I can barely stand.

But I can definitely manage a bed.

Cliff swings off the Screamin’ Eagle and extends an arm to me. Placing my hand in his, I climb down. My feet never touch the ground. He lifts me into his arms, curling me protectively into his chest. Part of me wants to fight it, but it feels too natural. I like it when he takes care of me.

Besides, I don’t think I can walk straight.

I shift until we’re eye level. “Thank you,” I tell him. “I had a really good day.”

“Good.” He swallows, his eyes intent on mine.

I keep pushing him away, yet he knew my birthday and planned all this. I don’t even know his. “When is your birthday?”

“February eighteenth.”

“So just a few days after we . . .”

“Fucked in a stranger’s station wagon. Yep.” He gives me a smug look.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I touch his face and he turns serious. “We could’ve done something.”

“We did. Besides, I had everything I could’ve asked for. I’d just gotten out, my cousin didn’t hate me like I thought she did, I met this stubborn, determined, beautiful woman who lit my bed on fire . . .” He winks. “You’ll never be able to top that birthday.”

But I will, or I’ll die trying.

I don’t say so, though. Instead I guide his lips to mine, my hand sliding down from his face, caressing his neck, his shoulder. Down, down I move, bringing my hand to rest at his hip. I skim his waistband, cupping his erection through his jeans.

“Let’s get upstairs,” he growls into my mouth.

“Do you think Lucy will be okay getting home?” I ask as he carries me inside.

“I had Esther drive her and Donny followed them.” He takes me up the stairs, my arms wrapped around his neck. As he climbs each step, his hard cock rubs against my thigh through his jeans.

Once inside, he sits on the couch and I straddle him. “Are we christening the couch tonight?” I ask, running my fingers through his hair.

In answer he slips his hands under my shirt, beneath my bra, cupping my breasts. I wrench my tank top up and he leans forward, sucking a nipple between his lips. I pop open the button of his jeans and wrap my hand around him. With my nipple still in his mouth, he lifts me up just enough so that I can kick off my boots and peel off my lace leggings. As I take them off, I hear a low rip.

He freezes, face comically apologetic with my tit in his mouth.

“They were cheap,” I say, tossing them to the floor. I move my panties to the side and rub his head against me. His eyelids flutter closed, the ripped clothing forgotten. At this rate, I’m going to need a whole new wardrobe.

His hands grip my hips, dark eyes only slits as he watches me. I run him up and down my center, shivering as I reach my clit. His head tips back, exposing his throat. Bending forward, I nip at the tender skin, sealing it with a kiss. He lets out a low groan.

“God, Olivia,” he whispers, sending delicious icy tingles down my spine. His fingers dance along my ribs.

“‘Olivia,’ what?” I tease, gripping him. I take his head slow inch by inch, grinding against his shaft.

Pleasure rumbles in his throat, his face slack with bliss. With great effort, he opens his eyes enough to peer down at me. “You gonna make me beg?”

I give him a coy shrug. “It’s my birthday.”

“Then I should be doing the teasing.” Without disconnecting us, he flips us around, laying me down the length of the couch. He positions his knees at the sides of my thighs, still just barely inside me. I start to pout, a reminder that it’s my birthday on my lips. Then he uses his fingers to spread me wide and rubs his thumb against my clit, and I forget about complaining.

Shifting, Cliff plants a foot on the floor, giving me more room on the couch. My legs fall open. He slides deeper into me, still massaging me. Impatient, I reach for him, my hands framing each side of his face. I bring his lips to mine, coaxing him closer to me.

“Please?”

“Who’s begging now?” With a smirk, he obliges, lowering himself onto me. He reaches underneath me, placing his palms flat on my back. In one swift thrust, he plunges all the way in, hitting that spot deep inside me. I cry out, clinging to his back, wrapping my legs around his waist. The angle changes and he withdraws, then slams into me again, his shaft grazing my clit on his way back in. I make another involuntary sound, nails digging into his back.

From the moment we first connected, sex with Cliff has been unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. It’s a vast, blinding starlight rush through veins, nerves, and synapses. I don’t believe in love or soulmates, but if I did, this is how it’d feel.

He rolls his hips, still buried inside me, and it’s enough. I spasm from my core outward, body going slack with surrender. A second later I feel his heat spill inside me. He grazes kisses along my collarbone and I keep shattering in his arms, arms that hold me together.

THE END

Read the River Reapers MC Series

Book 1: A Disturbing Prospect

Until now, Olivia has survived by sticking to two simple rules: love ’em then leave ’em, and live out loud. But her odds—which were pretty good—change when Cliff walks out of prison and into her life. With his long dark hair, gentle eyes, and secrets, she’s dying to unlock him.

Cliff is a survivor, too, and he needs Olivia’s help learning how to live again. But his past catches up with him when he joins the local biker club, the River Reapers. A lifetime membership comes with its own baggage.

Olivia should stay far, far away from him. She shouldn’t get skin to skin with him in the back of someone else’s car, but she does. She definitely shouldn’t get to know the man behind the mugshot, but for the first time in a long parade of one-night stands, she wants to. And she shouldn’t fall for him, but she does. Except their entwined pasts may doom their love before it even begins.

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Book 2: A Risky Prospect

Brash social worker Olivia has been through her own personal hell and come out the other side, tattered but determined to make things better in her corrupt town—no matter the cost. Her roommate’s current situation is the perfect place to start.

When ex-con Cliff’s wild ol’ lady Olivia comes to him and the River Reapers for help, he’s on board. His vigilante motorcycle club can get the job done, and it’ll help convince Olivia to take the next step in their relationship.

But when Olivia’s traumatic past walks through the club’s doors, there’s no stopping her from doing whatever it takes to settle her own score. Even if it means crossing a line that Cliff might not be able to pull her back from.

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Novella: Her Mercy

Twenty years ago, Mercy and Bree chose loyalty over love. Now they can do it all over—if he can find her.

War veteran Mercy has an ache in his bones that the MC he built with his best friend doesn’t quite soothe. When beautiful runaway Bree shows up at the club house, both his physical and emotional pain begin to lift.

Despite their substantial age gap, Bree and Mercy find the home they’ve always been looking for in each other. But Bree is buckling under the weight of her own secrets, and they were never far behind her to begin with. When they catch up to her, she runs. Again.

When he finally catches up with her twenty years later, he’s only got one shot to prove to her they belong together.

Her Mercy is a second chance romance that spans decades of heartache, and births the beginning of the River Reapers MC series.

This novella can be read as a standalone.

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Book 3: Coming Soon

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HER MERCY Glossary

While reading Her Mercy, there might be some terms you aren’t familiar with, or places you need a refresher for. I’ve put together a glossary of biker slang and club roles, as well as terms special to the River Reapers MC, plus locations.

Looking for the character guide? Click here!

♠

Cara’s: A diner on 63 that many of the River Reapers frequent Cara’s.

Colors: A logo of sorts that adorns the back of MC members’ cuts. Usually embroidered onto the leather. The River Reapers colors is the Sludge Specter—a sludge-covered reaper that is a nod to the polluted Naugatuck River.

Cut: The leather jacket or vest that members of a club wear, usually with the club’s insignia embroidered onto the back, and various patches sewn on.

Enforcer: Sort of a bouncer for the club… or the guy who sorts things out when talking doesn’t work.

Hangaround: A non-member who hangs out with the MC, often at The Wet Mermaid. Usually other motorcycle enthusiasts and even non-rival bikers.

House Mouse: A woman who is unaffiliated with but hangs out with the club.

Holeshot: When someone in a motor vehicle rips up gravel. It’s also the fastest driver during a race. Not a biker term, but a reader asked about it, so I figured I’d include it. It also used to be my dad’s CB handle.

Ol’ Lady / Ol’ Man: Girlfriend/boyfriend, usually serious.

One-kicker: In A Disturbing Prospect, Cliff mentions that he isn’t a one-kick wonder yet; this means that he can’t start his bike with just one kick of the starter.

One-percenter: A club that is involved with illegal activity.

Lewisburg: The prison that both Cliff and Mercy served time in.

MC: Motorcycle club

Naugatuck, CT: The dying industrial town where the series takes place. Also a real town near where I grew up.

Naugatuck River: A river that cuts through Naugatuck and Waterbury. Known nationally in real life for its chemical pollution. More recently, there was an oil spill. Some say the river is cursed.

Patch: This can refer to the patch on a biker’s cut, or the verb—as in, getting patched in, meaning being accepted as a member.

President: The member who oversees club activities, duties, and operations.

Prospect: A potential member.

Pussy Pad: The seat on the back of the bike, usually where a biker’s ol’ lady rides.

River Reapers MC: A fictional motorcycle club named for the Naugatuck River.

Rocker: A curved patch that is usually placed on the side or back of a cut. Usually designates the club’s name.

Sergeant-at-Arms: The member who handles club rules, patches, etc. Also sometimes weapons. (In some MCs, the SAA and Enforcer are interchangeable terms for the same role.)

Sludge Specter: A patch awarded only to members willing to do anything for the MC, who have actually gone above and beyond member duties. Also refers to the MC’s colors.

“Take them to the river”: A River Reapers phrase referring to killing someone—usually determined by a club vote. Example: When the original members voted to kill Bastard for molesting Lucy, they voted whether to take him to the river. Bodies are often buried on the Naugatuck River front, making it a more literal phrase.

Treasurer: The member who takes care of funds. Also organizes activities, fundraisers, and other club events.

Vice President: Second-in-command, usually coordinates Church and other events, and also takes over President roles in case that member can’t perform his duties.

The Wet Mermaid: The strip club owned by the River Reapers. The business is under Treasurer Mark’s name.

♠

Her Mercy is exclusively for River Reapers MC fan club members. Click here to download your copy!

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A Recap of A RISKY PROSPECT

There’s a lot happening in these River Reapers MC books, so you’re bound to forget something. Shoutout to Molli Moran for suggesting I write up recaps. I decided to do them as blog posts instead, as Amazon only allows for 10 percent of bonus content in an ebook.

Are you looking for the recap for Book 1, A Disturbing Prospect? Click here.

Before You Read

Take a look at potential triggers, and check out the glossary of biker terms. There’s also a handy character guide.

Spoiler alert! If you haven’t read A Risky Prospect, this recap will spoil the plot and ending. Consider picking up a copy instead!

Previously in the River Reapers MC series…

Olivia and her roommate Esther are about to graduate with Bachelor’s degrees in social work. Their plans are interrupted when Esther gets horrible news: her younger sisters are being given back to her parents, who sexually and physically abused all of them. Esther tells Olivia, Cliff, and MC Enforcer Donny about her father raping her, triggering Olivia’s memories of her own rape. Olivia, who just took a position as a DCF social worker, promises Esther to help get her sisters back.

Both Olivia and Esther miss the graduation ceremony, and Olivia and Cliff are running late to meet her parents for lunch. Before they head to the restaurant, Cliff asks Olivia to move in with him and she turns him down. Tensions between them worsen when Olivia’s parents give Cliff the cold shoulder.

On our way back to The Wet Mermaid, I let her take the lead. Something inside my chest swells, expanding until I can barely breathe. Pride and other emotions thicken in my throat. Despite everything, here she is, a real life hero ready to step out and save the world.

I just hope she hasn’t become tainted by me, the villain.

Away from my aunt and uncle, I feel less on edge. Everything is simpler. I don’t have to watch what I say or how I eat my food. By the time we reach the club house, I’m myself again. I let Olivia go inside first.

The guys whoop and whistle, holding up drinks to toast her and Esther.

“Congratulations, sweetheart,” Mark says, giving her a hug and kiss on the cheek.

“Let me hug my goddaughter,” Ravage interrupts. He engulfs Olivia in a bear hug. “I’m proud of you, baby.”

“Thanks, Pres.” She moves away from me through the crowd, toward the bar.

“You good?” Ravage asks me.

“He’s had a rough day,” Lucy says from beside me.

“Hey.” I wrap her in a hug, careful not to crush the flowers she brought for Olivia. “I didn’t know if you were coming.”

“I wouldn’t miss the real party.” She kisses my cheek. “That was fun, huh?”

“I need a drink.” I nod toward the bar, where Olivia is yelling at the poor young woman making drinks in her place.

The crowd parts for me and Lucy, and I lead her toward two empty bar stools.

“Are you two okay?” she shouts over the music. “I caught a vibe.”

I scoff at her over my shoulder. “Like the vibe between you and the waiter?”

“Waiter?” She tries to smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Is he the would-be fiancé, Luce?”

Her eyes tighten, lips flattening.

A dance brings Olivia and Cliff closer, until the night’s band takes the stage. The lead singer is all too familiar to Olivia, and she goes running from the club to avoid him. Cliff doesn’t put the two together and thinks that she’s still upset with him. Before they can talk, Ravage pulls Olivia aside to let her know that her father is getting out of prison and she is to go pick him up.

Hoping to smooth things over between them, Cliff offers to take her place so that she can also start her new job and, hopefully, help Esther and the girls.

On Monday, Olivia starts looking at Esther’s case, with her own trauma and convictions jeopardizing her other cases. She also starts investigating her ex, Greg, who raped her. Cliff picks up Mercy, who takes off as soon as they get home, hoping to find Bree, Olivia’s mother. Olivia is devastated when she finds out.

Flashbacks plague Olivia during all hours of the day. When she runs into Greg at the club again, she runs. Cliff follows, and she tells him.

“Greg got married.” Her voice is so low, I have to strain to hear her. “Her name is Cami, and right now, his hands might be around her neck. Or he’s having sex with her when she doesn’t want to.” She tenses in my arms. “I let him do this to another woman.”

The blood in my veins turns to ice, then boils. Every muscle in my body contracts, straining, fingers itching to wrap around his neck. My fists feel hot and heavy, battering rams attached to my arms. “He raped you.”

“That sums up all of the awful things he did to me, yes.”

I’m torn between staying here with her and flying back to the club. I want to yank him off that stage, bludgeon him with his own guitar. Then it hits me.

She told me.

She trusts me.

I can’t break that by racing off to kill him. Olivia let me in—something I never thought would happen. I’ll be damned if I leave her here now.

I pick her up, carrying her to our motorcycles out front. I sit her on mine and straddle it, her arms wrapping around me. She nestles into my back, and I take us back to her place with the heat of her body keeping me grounded. Keeping me with her.

In her bed, I tuck her into my side and hold her until she falls asleep. I don’t sleep at all.

All I can think about are the thousand ways I will kill him the next time I see him.

Olivia’s confession brings them closer, and she realizes that Cliff is in love with her. To distract herself, she buries herself in Esther’s case. Because Esther’s parents have done everything they were supposed to do, it seems that DCF’s—and Olivia’s—hands are tied. When Esther’s parents kidnap the girls, the MC intervenes. Olivia and Esther kill her parents, and the club makes it look like they skipped town. DCF gives Esther guardianship of the girls.

Olivia tells the MC about Greg, and they vote to kill him. Before they can make solid plans to take him out, Greg lures Olivia to his house and attempts to kill her. Realizing that she needs to do whatever it takes to survive, she plays into his desire for her and pretends that she is getting back together with him. She gets him into a vulnerable position by having sex with him, and when he is off guard, she kills him.

Cliff walks in at the last minute, stunned but dedicated to her as always. He and the rest of the club make it look like an accidental fire started, and everyone tries to move forward with their lives. Olivia seeks help for her PTSD, and Cliff starts a new job so that he has something else to focus on beside his feelings for her. Olivia realizes that she doesn’t feel the same about Cliff but does care about him, so she makes the commitment to be with him fully. No one has heard from Mercy or Bree, and Olivia begins to fear the worst: either she’s been abandoned again, or they are dead…

The story continues in Book 3 of the River Reapers MC series, coming soon.

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