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A Risky Prospect, Chapter 39

By the time we bury Esther’s parents, every muscle in my body aches and my eyes might as well be smeared with Vaseline, they’re so bleary. I’m ready to crash.

Until Ravage calls Church. And the way he’s looking at me from across the table, I’m the next one going six feet under.

Catch Up A Risky Prospect, Chapter 1 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 2 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 3 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 4 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 5 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 6 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 7 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 8 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 9 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 10 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 11 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 12 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 13 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 14 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 15 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 16 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 17 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 18 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 19 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 20 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 21 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 22 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 23 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 24 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 25 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 26 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 27 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 28 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 29 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 30 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 31 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 32 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 33 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 34 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 35 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 36 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 37 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 38 Chapter 39Cliff

I can’t take this anymore.

This woman has a knife in my chest. Every time I get within sight of her, inhale the same oxygen, she twists the knife a little deeper. There’s no doubt in me anymore. She was never temporary. I’m in it for the long haul—or I would be. Something is stopping her, something has a hold on her that’s beyond my power. The damage Greg did is too deep, beyond my reach. I would kill for her, but killing him won’t save her.

At least not if I do it.

I trudge away, holding my head high but barely holding myself together. I need a drink. As soon as I finish up with the club, no matter how late it is, I’m going to Lucy’s. Right now I need to be around someone who doesn’t want me to go away.

I need my best friend.

While Abraham and I wrap the bodies in tarps, Olivia calls the cop who owes her a favor.

He looks startlingly like Greg.

My blood boils in my veins. When Esther and Olivia finish up with him and he takes off, Donny brings Esther and the girls home.

Olivia disappears.

Officer Byrne must be Greg’s brother. I pace and chainsmoke until Donny comes back with the SUV. I help load the bodies into the back of it, and we take them to the river.

When Ravage held Greg’s vote, I assumed “take him to the river” meant weighing the body down and dropping it in. Instead, my President passes out shovels and tells Abraham and me to put them deep. Then Ravage, Skid, Donny, and Beer Can keep watch.

Digging is hard. On TV, they make it look easy, just a bigger version of a sandcastle hole at the beach. Near the river, the soil is wet and heavy. My back aches every time I punch the shovel through the dirt and lift another load. This is Prospect work, but neither Ravage nor Skid made Olivia stay. There aren’t any other Prospects. I should try to make conversation with Abraham, get to know my brother a little better. But I’m not in a talking mood, and he never seems to be, anyway.

Not when it comes to me.

By the time we bury Esther’s parents, every muscle in my body aches and my eyes might as well be smeared with Vaseline, they’re so bleary. Since Ravage and Skid rode Abraham’s and my bikes down to the river, I’m free to go.

Until Ravage calls Church.

“Not the way I wanted this to go down,” Donny says, his hands splayed on the table, “but I think it played out well.”

Ravage’s mouth is a hard slash in his face.

“I take it you disagree, Pres?” Beer Can puffs from his pen. If I weren’t so tired, I’d tell him to pass it over.

“We need to take a vote,” Skid says, but I watch Ravage’s face. I’m too tired to defend Olivia if he wants to vote her out. Or whatever it is MCs do to Prospects they no longer want.

Ravage’s eyes burn into the back wall. “When we took this on,” he says, real slow, “I didn’t think they’d take those girls. They almost outplayed us. Who knows what would’ve happened if we hadn’t found them?” He sweeps the room, landing on me.

I swallow.

It’s not Olivia I need to defend.

Even though every muscle screams, I stand from my seat and face my brothers. “I fucked up. I should’ve called Olivia.”

Donny shakes his head. “I was pissed,” he says, addressing Ravage. “Red Dog’s good with me now.”

“Sit down.” Ravage throws a hand at me. “That’s not what we’re voting on. We’ll get to that.”

I ease into the chair, keeping my face blank.

“We need to do better,” Ravage continues. “This ended well, but it could’ve gone very badly. This is twice now that this club had the opportunity to save a girl’s life, but almost fucked it up. We need to get organized.”

“Organized?” Abraham lifts an eyebrow.

“I want to take this club in a new direction. We seem to keep finding ourselves in this position, so why not roll with it?” Ravage clenches the gavel in his hand. “I’m done tolerating violence against women and children, gentlemen. I vote we do something about it.” He turns to Skid. “VP? Anything you wanna add?”

“Guns and drugs are only gonna land us all in the pen,” Skid says. “We’ve got The Wet Mermaid income, which is plenty as long as we’re careful. I think those of us who were around in the Bastard era and voted yea all feel the same way about this. Not everyone shares those morals.” His eyes flick toward Abraham. “We need to be unanimous.”

Mark clears his throat. “Unanimous about what, exactly?”

“Apologies,” Ravage says. “It’s late and I’m just babbling in the dark. I want to put our resources to good use. I want the River Reapers to be the place people turn when the cops won’t do shit. When bad pennies like Greg turn up and rape. When mothers become monsters and let fathers stain children. I’m talking about cleaning up this town, gentlemen. Capisce?”

We all nod.

“Let’s vote, then,” Ravage says. “Yea.”

“Yea,” Skid seconds.

“We might have to monetize this service,” Mark cautions, “but right now, my vote’s yea.”

“Stixx?” Ravage asks.

I glance at the tattooed man, who’s been so quiet, I didn’t even realize he was here. If I’m being honest, the dude unnerves me a little.

“You know where I got my first X?” Stixx asks.

“Do we wanna know?” Beer Can mutters.

The icy glare Stixx slides him makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up straight. “I burnt down a Catholic school,” he says with a grin so gaping and empty, he looks lupine. “Walked in on a priest doing things to a kindergartner that no human should ever do to another person. They expelled me. The priest walked. The fire stopped him, though. I was eight.” He bares his teeth. “Yea.”

The whole table looks at me.

“Cliff?” Ravage asks.

I stare down at my hands. “To be clear,” I say, “we’re talking about playing judge, jury, and executioner?”

“When the law turns its cheek, yes,” Ravage says, gritting his teeth. “You vote nay, brother, and I might kill you with my bare hands, right here, right now.”

I scoff. “You really think I’d vote nay? I spent twenty years in federal prison for killing my own father—a veteran. I still want to kill him, whenever I think about what he did to Lucy.” I light a cigarette, the back of my neck hot. It’s odd, putting my feelings into words. Not something I’m used to. “I’ve been searching for a purpose. I don’t just want to be a biker. I want to . . .” My voice trails off.

“Make a difference?” Abraham sneers. When I turn my glare on him, he holds his hands up. “I’m with you, brother. It just sounds corny. I mean, is this really possible? Do any of you really think we can do this?”

“We’ve got to try,” Ravage says, his voice breaking. “Those three girls . . . They’re so young.”

I nod. “Lucy, too. And Olivia. I think she was in high school, when Greg . . .” I can’t say it.

Beer Can turns away, sniffling. “I’m tired of other men trying to break and control women.”

“Me too, brother,” I say. I meet my President’s eyes. “Yea.”

“Yea,” Abraham says.

“Yea,” Vaughn agrees. “Might as well use these powers for good.” He mimes typing on a computer keyboard.

“Do y’all really even need to ask me?” Donny shakes his head. “Of course, yea.”

“Yea,” Beer Can whispers, still turned away from the table. He dabs at his eyes with the sleeve of his T-shirt.

“Let’s kill some rapists,” Ravage says, and bangs his gavel on the table. “Get the fuck out of here, boys. Get some sleep.”

I crawl up to my room. It’s far too late to stop in at Lucy’s, and I can’t keep my eyes open, anyway. I’m physically and emotionally drained and, outside of my club, nothing feels certain right now. A little sleep will set me right, help me figure out how to fix things with Olivia.

Thank you for reading Chapter 39 of A Risky Prospect, Book 2 in the River Reapers MC series.

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A Risky Prospect, Chapter 38

“You’re not going to prison,” I repeat.

She shrugs. “I guess time will tell.”

“I’m telling you. We’ve done this before. I’ve done this before.”

“What, kill someone’s father?”

“We’re kind of in the business of killing scumbag fathers.”

Catch Up A Risky Prospect, Chapter 1 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 2 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 3 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 4 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 5 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 6 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 7 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 8 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 9 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 10 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 11 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 12 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 13 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 14 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 15 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 16 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 17 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 18 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 19 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 20 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 21 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 22 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 23 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 24 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 25 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 26 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 27 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 28 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 29 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 30 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 31 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 32 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 33 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 34 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 35 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 36 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 37 Chapter 38Olivia

“Thank you.” Esther wraps her arms around me. Her heart thumps wildly against her chest, reverberating into mine.

I hug her back, feel her whole body loosen. “Any time.”

“Yeah . . . let’s not make this a regular thing, a’ight?” Donny chides.

Esther releases me and steps back, surveying the room, the two bodies. “I should feel sad, shouldn’t I?”

Behind me, the men huddle up. They decide Beer Can should stay in the room with the bodies until Ravage and Mark get here, and Donny walks back outside with Cliff. I feel more than see him leave the room, his warmth and energy vanishing with him.

I sigh. “What do you feel?” I ask Esther.

“Relieved,” she says right away. “Isn’t that crazy? I should be freaking out. I just killed my own mother.”

“I get it. Now you don’t have to look over your shoulder anymore.” I glance behind me. Beer Can stands next to the door, his face passive. He might be listening, or he might be running Depeche Mode lyrics through his head.

“I don’t even care if I go to jail,” she adds. “At least I’ll know they’re safe. Abuela can take care of them.”

“You’re not going to jail.” I bite my lip, considering how much I should tell her. I glance at Beer Can again.

“Esther,” he asks, his eyes meeting mine, “does Donny ever tell you anything about the club?”

“I told him I don’t wanna know. That was before.” She arches an eyebrow. “I guess it doesn’t matter now.”

Beer Can steps forward and lays a warm hand on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Your call,” he says. “I’m gonna step outside.” He pulls a marijuana vape pen from the inside of his cut, then strolls out.

The ugly green armchair suddenly looks inviting. If I sit down in it, I might fall asleep. “You’re not going to prison,” I repeat.

She shrugs. “I guess time will tell.”

“I’m telling you. We’ve done this before. I’ve done this before.”

“What, kill someone’s father?”

“We’re kind of in the business of killing scumbag fathers,” I say. “Scumbags in general, really.”

Her eyebrows pinch together.

“Last semester, when someone slashed your tires and keyed your car? That was this guy from my photography class. He’s the one who hurt Dio. He came back,” I tell her. I’m not in the brightly lit hotel room anymore. I’m in our apartment, hiding in the shadows, the gun in my hand. “I had to shoot him.”

She gapes at me. “In our apartment?”

I nod. “I called Cliff. I didn’t know what else to do. The gun isn’t registered—I got it from Donny.”

“Why am I not surprised?” she mutters. Her gaze floats back to her mother’s form.

“Cliff, Donny, and Beer Can cleaned up. They got rid of the body—Eli. That was his name. They did a good job. No one’s ever going to find him.” I think of the Silver Alert, of the anonymous somebody looking for him. “No one’s going to find your parents. I’m gonna have to call this in to Glace, though.” I bite my lip again. “I have to talk to the guys, figure out what our story’s gonna be.”

“Maybe I should’ve had Abuela call the cops.”

“I think I’ve got that covered,” I say. “Come on.” I pull open the door and slip out past Beer Can, who gives us both a nod as we pass. Esther and I make our way around the building. The silence is stifling, given how busy South Main Street usually is. There aren’t even any drag racers tonight.

I spot the cluster of bikes and men, Cliff standing out. I could pick him out of a crowd. I’m magnetically drawn to him. He holds a sleeping Ximena in his arms, and the sight of it sends my heart reeling. Her head rests on his shoulder, her small thumb tucked into the corner of her mouth.

“Que lindo,” Esther croons. “He’s a keeper.”

I give her a sidelong look. “Don’t.”

“What?” She spreads her hands. “I’m not saying marry the guy and pop out babies. I’m just saying, he’s one of the good ones.”

“One of the few,” I mutter.

“Truth,” she says.

We reach the group. Cierra and Abril rush to Esther, wrapping their arms around her. She holds them close, whispering to them in Spanish.

“We figure out how we wanna handle this?” I ask, glancing from Cliff to Donny.

“We’re gonna take them to the river,” Donny says.

“What about the girls?” I fix my eyes on Donny’s ENFORCER patch, tracing the worn stitching. Anything to keep me from looking at Cliff.

“We’ll bring them to Esther’s grandparents.” Donny frowns at me. “Why?”

“What about the case? Don’t you think DCF will find it a little weird that all of a sudden, Esther’s parents are MIA?” I put my hands on my hips.

Donny glances skyward, shaking his head. “Why you gotta complicate this, Olivia?”

“Because I work for DCF. They’re overloaded, but they’re not gonna overlook this. We have to cover our bases.”

“Let me guess,” he says. “You’ve got those bases covered?”

I lift my chin, ignoring the burn of Cliff’s gaze. “I do, actually.” I reach into my saddlebag and run my fingers over Finn’s business card. “There’s a pig who owes me a favor.”

Both of Donny’s eyebrows lift. “That so, Prospect?” The corner of his mouth twitches. I think he’s smiling, but I’m not sure.

“I’ll have him come down, corroborate for us. Esther’s parents took the girls, but dumped them here when they saw him in uniform.” I nod toward the gas station next door. “Then they took off.”

“You got this all figured out, don’t you?” He shakes his head. “Cliff, you’ve got your hands full, brother.”

I scoff. “Cliff doesn’t have anything. I’m a person, Donny, not a piece of ass.” Remembering the girls, I wince. “Sorry,” I tell Esther.

She sighs. “If that’s the worst they experience today . . .”

“All right,” Donny says. “Make your call.”

A familiar looking SUV pulls into the motel parking lot—Ravage and Mark. Skid trails behind them on his motorcycle.

“Cleanup crew’s here. Cliff, pass Jimmy to Olivia. We’ve got work to do.” Donny strides toward the SUV.

Cliff steps toward me, his eyes soft. I hold open my arms awkwardly. He passes the little girl to me. “Got her?” he asks, his hand brushing mine.

The heat from his skin scorches mine, igniting a fuse that threads through every one of my limbs. My pinky twitches toward his, wrapping around his before I have the chance to stop myself. All I want to do is lean into him, let him hold both Jimmy and me, let myself give in to the current. But I know that if I do, I’ll sink into him like a stone, falling too deep to ever come back up for air.

Because when I love, I love with my whole heart, with every inch of my marrow. And when I do, I forget who I am, lose sight of what’s good and what isn’t. Love destroyed me, and I only barely put myself back together. I’m still far too broken.

Cliff deserves better.

His pinky hooks around mine, squeezing for a heartbeat. Then he releases me, relinquishing Jimmy into my arms. With devastation in his eyes, he drops his gaze. Then he walks away, leaving me cold.

Thank you for reading Chapter 38 of A Risky Prospect, Book 2 in the River Reapers MC series.

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A Risky Prospect, Chapter 37

I know what strength can come from the fires of human hell, the pain of the evil that people inflict on each other. Those flames flicker in Esther’s eyes, tears pooling on her lashes. One blink, one breath, and it’ll all break loose.

catch up A Risky Prospect, Chapter 1 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 2 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 3 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 4 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 5 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 6 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 7 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 8 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 9 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 10 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 11 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 12 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 13 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 14 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 15 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 16 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 17 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 18 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 19 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 20 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 21 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 22 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 23 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 24 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 25 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 26 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 27 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 28 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 29 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 30 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 31 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 32 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 33 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 34 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 35 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 36 Chapter 37Cliff

Donny, Beer Can, Abraham, and I wait near our lined up bikes, Donny’s eyes firmly pinned on the motel entrance. I flick ash from my cigarette onto the pavement, watching the door, too.

“How long does it take to grab a key?” Beer Can crosses his arms.

“Think they called the cops?” Abraham asks.

I scoff. “Cops? This place? Most of their income is from prostitutes renting rooms.”

“Then what’s taking so long?” Donny inches toward the door. “It’s been at least ten minutes.”

“More like fifteen.” My eyes meet his.

“You don’t think . . . ?” He shoots another glance at the door.

“Olivia, maybe,” Beer Can concedes. “Esther, though?”

Donny and I stare at each other for a long beat. He sucks in a deep breath. “I’m giving them two more minutes, and then we’re checking it out.”

I spot movement out of the corner of my eye. Three small figures file from the back of the building. “Over there.” I nod toward them.

The smallest lags behind the others, carrying a bundle in both arms.

“Hurry up, Jimmy,” the tallest of them whispers.

“Oh, shit,” Donny mutters.

The three girls draw closer, their steps slower as they approach.

“It’s okay,” Donny calls to them. “Come on.”

Esther’s little sisters crowd around us. In the dim light, I make out a swaddled baby doll in the little one’s arms.

Donny kneels in front of them. “Everyone okay?”

The oldest nods. “They bought Jimmy a doll.”

“Probably to keep her distracted,” the middle one adds.

“Nothing happened, though,” the oldest says. “Essie and her friend got us out.”

“With Olivia’s gun,” the little one breathes, her eyes round and awed.

Donny’s eyes snap to mine. In a flash, we sprint toward the back of the building.

“Watch them,” he yells to the guys, drawing his gun.

“I’m with you,” Abraham calls, his footsteps pounding as he catches up.

From behind us, I hear one of the girls ask Beer Can if he’s from Harry Potter.

Donny races toward the line of doors. Yanking my own gun out of its holster, I close in on him, pushing my legs to move faster. He lurches through an open door. I skid to a halt behind him, nearly pushing him inside.

From the doorway, I see her. She stands, two hands on her gun, its muzzle pointed at Josué. He sits in an ugly green armchair, his hands resting on its arms. Toci sobs in a heap on the bed, her hair wrapped around Esther’s hand. Esther yanks harder.

Donny’s eyebrows almost touch his hairline.

I’m not surprised. I know what strength can come from the fires of human hell, the pain of the evil that people inflict on each other. Those flames flicker in Esther’s eyes, tears pooling on her lashes. One blink, one breath, and it’ll all break loose.

“Josué,” Olivia says, the name oily venom dripping from her lips. “You were supposed to be a father. You were supposed to protect your daughters.”

Esther scoffs. “You were supposed to protect us,” she tells her mother. She twists her wrist, pulling Toci’s hair so hard, I can see the red scalp from across the room.

“I wish I had time to make you feel everything you did to them,” Olivia continues.

“I didn’t touch them!” Josué yells, spit flying from his lips.

“Tonight,” Esther says, her voice so cold, chills race up and down my spine.

If I’d had the time twenty years ago, I would’ve taken my time with Bastard. I would’ve killed him slowly, draining his life the way he sucked out Lucy’s—over many months. In the moment, I didn’t think of how to make him suffer. All I saw was my little cousin. All I wanted was to make it stop.

“We can’t do it here,” Donny says.

Esther jumps, but Olivia doesn’t even flinch. “Why not?” she asks.

“Too many witnesses.” He holsters his gun, switching it for his phone.

“We should close the door,” I suggest, moving into the room.

Olivia glances at me. For a moment, relief flickers through her eyes. A second later, something dark rolls through them, stifling the light.

I know that switch, that moment when the monster fully takes hold. It doesn’t matter what your intentions are; the beast is a berserker, taking control of limbs until its revenge is sated.

She pins her gaze back on Josué.

Donny steps inside, too, and I shut the door behind us. The six of us stand there, none of us moving. Donny presses his phone to his ear.

“Who are you calling?” Olivia snaps.

“Pres,” he drawls. “Gonna find out how he wants us to handle this.”

“What he wants?” Olivia sneers. “What about what Esther wants?”

“The club took this on. It’s our call,” Donny says.

“Fuck the club!” Olivia squeezes the grip of her gun, knuckles white. “Why is it always all about what you want? It’s always the men deciding.” She shakes her head. “What do you want to do, Esther?”

Donny casts me a helpless glance. I shrug. Olivia is right.

But so is he.

“We can’t just off them both in a motel room,” I say. “We need to be smart about this.”

Olivia’s shoulders tighten.

“You don’t want to go to prison.” I take a step toward her. “Let Donny talk to Ravage. Let us figure out a plan.”

She shakes her head. “See,” she tells Josué, “to me, you’re not just Esther’s father. You’re every man who thinks he has the right to do whatever he wants with a woman’s body. I don’t need a plan because it’s pretty simple—to me, anyway.”

“I’m with you, Olivia.” I take another step. “I went about it wrong, but I’m with you—whatever you want to do. Let’s just take a second.”

“I don’t need a second,” Esther says. “I just need this to be over. I want my sisters safe. I don’t want to look over my shoulder, wondering if he’s coming back for us, praying she isn’t playing the system.” She shoves Toci forward. Pivoting on the balls of her feet, Esther lunges for Donny’s gun. Her fingers close around the grip and pull it free from its holster. She presses the barrel against Toci’s head.

“Wait!” I shout. In two strides, I close the distance between the bed and me. I grab a throw pillow and hold it out to Esther. “It’s not a silencer, but it’s better than nothing.”

Olivia lifts her head, her eyes meeting mine. She nods, once. I toss a pillow to her, too.

With a sigh, Donny pockets his phone. He peers through the peephole. “We’re good.” Turning back around, he leans against the door, crossing his arms.

“No one is going to miss you,” Olivia tells Josué.

Esther prays in Spanish, the words all running together. “Count of three?”

“Your count,” Olivia agrees.

“Three.” Esther’s nostrils flare. “Two.”

The digital alarm clock on the nightstand blinks, the time changing from 10:22 to 10:23.

Esther takes a deep breath. “One.”

Olivia and Esther squeeze their triggers at the same time. The pillows only marginally muffle the bang of the shots. Josué slumps forward in the armchair. Toci crumples in a heap on the bed.

Olivia holsters her gun. Esther hands Donny his.

I pick up my phone and call Ravage.

Thank you for reading Chapter 37 of A Risky Prospect, Book 2 in the River Reapers MC series.

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A Risky Prospect, Chapter 36

Cliff pulls up even with me, more a faithful old Saint Bernard than a Red Dog. I can’t begin to wrap my head around him, what he feels for me. It’s all too big, too much. With Cliff, I feel safe, but that can’t be the only reason I’m with him. His love is not enough for this to work.

catch up A Risky Prospect, Chapter 1 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 2 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 3 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 4 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 5 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 6 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 7 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 8 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 9 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 10 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 11 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 12 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 13 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 14 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 15 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 16 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 17 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 18 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 19 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 20 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 21 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 22 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 23 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 24 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 25 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 26 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 27 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 28 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 29 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 30 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 31 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 32 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 33 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 34 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 35 Chapter 36Olivia

My head is reeling. I need a minute alone to catch up—thirty seconds, even—but I just had to walk over rather than take my own bike. New rule: Never put myself in a position where I have to cling to Cliff’s back. I try not to press my face into the leather of his cut, try not to inhale his woodsy, clean scent, even over the smells of the road. And I most definitely don’t feel all of those muscles, the hard ridges and swells of his back. His hair flies into my face, untamed, the black locks wrapping around my head and engulfing me in the cedar and agave in his shampoo.

I want to shove him off the bike.

He doesn’t try to talk to me. He brings me straight to the Street Glide where I left it after Finn took off. I swing off the back of Cliff’s bike and walk straight to mine. Halfway there, I freeze, fear locking my limbs.

It’s always after the action that I freak out.

I glance around, as if Finn’s police car is going to materialize any second. It’s just Cliff and me, the roar of his Screamin’ Eagle loud enough to drown out the turmoil in my head. But it doesn’t.

I see Finn’s face, then Greg’s, and I’m catapulted back to that night, in that basement bedroom, his hands around my throat. The first few times things got weird, I just figured he was into kink, had some odd fetishes.

That almost killed me.

I claw at my throat, fingers touching only my own skin. I’m safe, I remind myself. I’m here. I look around the street again, turning in a circle. Cliff sits on his bike, brown eyes alarmed.

“Olivia?” he calls out. He starts to say something, but Donny and Esther, Beer Can, and Abraham roar onto the street.

“Let’s go!” Donny yells. He urges his Dyna forward, not bothering to wait for us. Casting us a curious glance, Beer Can follows. Abraham doesn’t even spare us a look.

“You good?” Cliff asks me.

I don’t know! I want to scream. But there’s no time to dig into my crazy. I shove the memories down and swing onto my bike. “Come on,” I tell him, and start her up.

I fall into formation at the back of the pack—Prospects don’t get to ride up front. Cliff hangs back with me, his eyes watchful. I wish he’d stop. He makes it so hard to be angry with him when he so clearly cares—even after I called him a bastard. Not my finest moment. I definitely jabbed his most tender point.

I always do.

We tear down 63 and jump onto Route 8, Esther clinging for dear life on the back of Donny’s bike. I’m surprised he brought her with us. I would’ve left her with her grandma, where she’s safe, where she won’t have to see what we do to her father. What I want to do to him.

Thinking about what he did to her and her sisters sends my blood racing through my veins. Nausea and rage burn up my throat, tightening my grip on the handlebar. I rush Street Glide forward, passing Cliff and putting myself in the middle of the formation.

I haven’t been present for Esther. Ever since she told me about her father, my own memories of Greg erupted from where I must’ve buried them. In college, I took a psychology class where we did a unit on Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.

At the time, I thought it was fascinating how the brain can suppress memories just to stay sane. Yet the deeper they’re buried, the more violent the outbreak, the more vivid the flashbacks.

Some defense mechanism.

It’s better to deal with your shit. I know that. From a clinical perspective, I know exactly what I’m supposed to do: ride through the flashbacks, let them happen. I don’t want to.

It’s like there are two versions of me. There’s rabbit Olivia, the girl who froze and stuffed it all down until she couldn’t remember anymore. Then there’s biker Olivia, the woman who isn’t afraid to take back what belongs to her.

A life for a life.

His life for the life I could have had. The person I would be if he hadn’t ruined me.

Josué’s life for the person Esther might be if he hadn’t destroyed her.

The River Reapers veer onto the exit ramp, a short stretch that merges onto South Main Street with a yield sign. Ravage bangs a left, back toward Naugatuck. I’m not familiar enough with Waterbury to know where the hell he’s going, but I follow him anyway.

Cliff pulls up even with me, more a faithful old Saint Bernard than a Red Dog. I can’t begin to wrap my head around him, his feelings. It’s all too big, too much. With Cliff, I feel safe, but that can’t be the only reason I’m with him. His love is not enough for this to work.

The American Motor Lodge sign looms above the road. We turn right into the small parking lot, the only real lights from our headlights. I can’t explain it, but the whole place just feels seedy, like a whole slew of bad things have happened here. I shudder.

Esther climbs down gingerly, her lips pressed together. Donny reaches for her, drawing her in for a hug. Their lips touch for a fraction of a second. I look away, but Cliff is right there, in my line of vision where the pavement or something—anything else—should be.

“Where are you going?” I call out to her, avoiding his eyes.

Her olive skin pales to almost my shade. She swallows. “Going inside to get a room key.” She lifts a shoulder. “I look just like my mom.”

“I’ll go with you.” I start the lengthy process of shutting the bike off. I’m still not used to it. Switches and kickstands and keys, oh my. I don’t know how Cliff already has it down.

“No,” Donny commands. “If they see her, they’ll think nothing of it. If they see any of us, we’ll lose them.”

“That’s if they’re even here,” Abraham mutters.

I shake my head. I can’t let her go in there alone. I just can’t. Donny’s right, though. Right now we’ve got the element of surprise.

“Wait,” Cliff says.

Everyone turns to look at him. I look at his front tire.

“If they see Esther by herself, they’ll know she’s here for the girls,” he says. “If she’s with Olivia, they can say they’re getting a room because they had too much to drink at HoJo’s.”

I lift an eyebrow. “HoJo’s?”

He chuckles, ducking his head. “Howard Johnson’s, back in the day. This motel was a HoJo’s, too.” He glances over at the bar and restaurant’s sign. “Guess it’s The Brass House now.”

Again I’m reminded of how much older he is. It’s another reason why I’ve got to cut him loose. He deserves someone his age, someone ready to settle down. Have babies. That kind of thing. Things he deserves.

I finish shutting off the Street Glide and swing off. “Okay, then. Let’s go.” I link arms with Esther, putting on a braver face than how I feel. At least I’ve still got my gun. That’s the only thing that’s gotten me through this day: I have a gun, and no one can ever hurt me again.

Esther and I walk under the portico, the sickly yellow glow of a solitary light washing over us. The other light is out. A sticker on the door advertises jacuzzis in certain rooms, by request.

“Nasty,” Esther mutters.

“You couldn’t pay me,” I agree.

The motel doesn’t have sliding doors or even a bellhop. I pull the door open, motioning Esther inside, all the while sweeping everything in sight.

Maroon and gold carpeting swallows the lobby, making the space look like a bad acid trip. They should’ve hired Esther’s abuela to decorate, because her place is cozy, coordinated. This place is a drab nightmare, made worse by the green armchairs.

I lead Esther to the front desk, and open my mouth, but she surprises me, speaking first.

“Hi,” she says, her voice void of any fear. She sounds embarrassed. “I’m such a moron. I came down to pick up food from next door, but didn’t bring my key. Can I have a replacement?”

The clerk—an older white man with liver spots and thin, greasy hair slicked back across his globe of a noggin—stares at her chest. “What’s the room number?”

“Oh, God.” Esther looks at me. “I don’t remember. Do you?”

She’s not the best liar, but at least she’s smooth. “Hey,” I say, playing along. “Don’t look at me. It’s your room.”

“It’s actually my husband’s.” She winks at the clerk. “He’s going to be back in a while, and we wanted to surprise him.”

The girl learns fast.

“He got a name?” the clerk asks, checking out my rack now.

“Josué Figueroa.”

“Spell it?”

With a pleasant smile, she spells it out for him. Her arm tightens around mine.

“Room 1131,” he says, activating a key. He holds it out to her. “You gonna take pictures?”

She leans in. “Video,” she says with a wink.

He drops the key into her hand. “Any chance you feel like file sharing?”

“Sure,” I purr. I tug Esther away, toward the entrance. When we get to the door, I pause.

“We’re getting the guys . . . right?” she asks me in a whisper.

I glance at another door, the one that exits to the rooms out back. “Why did Donny bring you?”

She blinks. “To get the girls.”

I meet her eyes. “Do you want to be a nanny, or do you want to make that motherfucker pay?”

“I just want to get the girls, Olivia.” She puts a palm on the glass of the door. She doesn’t push it open.

“It’s up to you,” I promise. “I’ll back you up, whatever you decide. But right now, you and I have this key, and we’re already here.” I drop my voice. “I have a gun.”

“Jesus,” she hisses, glancing at the front desk. I look, too. The clerk is gone, probably jacking off in a bathroom somewhere.

Esther pulls her hand back from the door. She taps the key card against her chin. “We are already here . . .”

“I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to do,” I tell her, “but I hate those movies where some devastatingly handsome guy kills the baddie who’s been torturing the lead actress. It should be her doing the slaying.”

She sucks her teeth. “I don’t know, Olivia. I don’t want the girls seeing anything like that. I mean, I want to see it, but they’re still so young. Maybe it’s too late for Cierra, but Abril and Ximena still have a chance.”

“It’s not too late for Cierra. It isn’t too late for you, either.” I back toward the other door. “You know my sister, Lucy? Her uncle did to her what your father did to you and your sisters. Sometimes it gets the best of her, but she’s doing great, Esther. She’s a teacher, and . . .” My voice trails off. She dumped a guy who wanted to marry her. Kind of like how I’m unloading a guy who loves me. I bite my lip.

“You know,” she says, taking a step toward the other door. “I’m more angry with my mother. She let him do this. She kept going back to him. Over and over. Who the fuck does that? At least your mom kept you away from her toxic boyfriends.”

“Well, she mostly stayed away from me in general, but I see your point.” I sigh. “If Josué is here, Toci is with him. Let’s get your sisters and take out some trash.”

“Ay, I need a drink,” Esther mutters. She shakes out her arms. “Okay. Let’s go.”

We sprint toward the stairs, the gun hot against my back.

Thank you for reading Chapter 36 of A Risky Prospect, Book 2 in the River Reapers MC series.

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A Risky Prospect, Chapter 35

The sight of her washes away all of the anger and fear I’ve been carrying. I can never be angry with her for long. My little wolf. I step toward her, but she drops her gaze.

catch up A Risky Prospect, Chapter 1 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 2 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 3 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 4 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 5 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 6 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 7 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 8 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 9 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 10 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 11 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 12 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 13 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 14 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 15 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 16 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 17 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 18 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 19 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 20 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 21 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 22 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 23 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 24 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 25 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 26 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 27 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 28 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 29 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 30 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 31 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 32 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 33 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 34 Chapter 35Cliff

I stand on a maroon area rug, next to a couch that was made to look like gold but instead came out a mustard yellow. Donny and Esther sit beside an older woman who must be Esther’s grandmother. Everyone turns to look at me, the room going silent except for an oxygen machine whirring somewhere in the house.

I don’t know what to say to make this right. I can’t remember the last time I had to apologize to another human being. For twenty years, I was never sorry about anything—except Lucy.

Donny stands from the couch, unfolding his body and rising, casting a dark shadow over Esther and her grandmother. He regards me with a cool stare.

“Did Vaughn have any luck?” Beer Can asks from the other side of the room. He turns a knickknack over in his hands.

Without meaning to, I reach up and rub the back of my head.

Beer Can sighs.

I drop my hand. “You were right,” I tell Donny. “We’re better off with Olivia. Where is she?”

Esther and Donny exchange glances. “We still haven’t heard from her,” she says, standing. “I’ll try her again.”

I run a hand through my hair. “Shit.”

“Guess we might need Vaughn after all,” Donny mutters. He lifts his eyes to mine and shrugs. Reaching inside his cut, he pulls out my phone.

I hold my hand out for it, but he doesn’t drop it into my palm.

“I still wanna kick your ass, Red Dog. But I know you’re going through it, too. We good—for now.” He drops the phone into my hand. “Call your girl. Maybe you’ll have better luck.”

I start to say “She’s not my girl.” The front door opens, the knob slamming into the wall. Olivia stands in the doorway, her curls wild, eyes lined with dark circles.

“Sorry, Mrs. Aguirre,” she tells Esther’s grandmother. Her eyes meet mine.

An electric current washes over me, zapping through my limbs and muscles, holding me in place. It’s strong enough to snap ligaments and melt bone. The sight of her washes away all of the anger and fear I’ve been carrying between my heart and ribs. I can never be angry with her for long. My little wolf. I take a step toward her, but she drops her gaze, turning instead to Esther.

“Did you get my text?” she asks.

My knees go weak as the sting of her shrapnel digs into my skin. Mark’s words echo through my head: She’s the fucking dragon, and she’s going to burn us all alive if we get in her way.

The problem is, I want her fire.

It’s like she’s cut my skin open and poured lava inside. I’m wide open, burning, waiting for her rain to cool me down. Waiting forever, probably.

She will never love me.

“No,” Esther says, standing. She tugs her phone from the side pocket of her leggings. “Oh.” She grimaces. “I left the ringer off.”

“Jesus.” Olivia sighs. “I sent you the files. You had Josué’s address this whole time.”

“Where have you been?” Donny shouts, rounding on her. “We needed you ‘this whole time,’ and you were nowhere to be found, Prospect.” He glares down at her, chest heaving.

“Hey!” I step forward, putting my body between them. “She needed a minute. She’s here now, right?”

He shakes a finger at us. “The two of you done now? Can we focus?”

I nod. “I’ve got you, brother.”

He sighs. “Olivia?”

“I’m here,” she says, looking everywhere but at me. “Toci has an apartment on Andrew Avenue. They’ve got to be there.”

“No,” says a wavering voice. For the first time, Mrs. Aguirre speaks. She stands from the couch. “He’s paying her rent, but he isn’t staying there. He knows he needs to be out of the picture if Toci’s going to get the girls back.”

I clear my throat. “Why take them, then? I thought they were close to reunification.”

“Because I filed a complaint,” Esther says. “The DCF headquarters is investigating. The woman I spoke with said it’s odd that this social worker is pursuing reunification.”

Olivia shakes her head. “Glace isn’t pursuing reunification. That was the old social worker.”

“Old social worker? The girls have had Glace for a long time. Too long—they should already have a permanency plan,” Esther explains.

“So . . .” Olivia runs a hand through her curls. “Why is Glace working toward reunification? And why did she lie to me?”

“Does it really matter?” I interject. “We’ve gotta go.”

Olivia shoots a glare at me, then turns to Esther’s grandmother. “Any ideas where they might be?”

Mrs. Aguirre nods. “Try the American Motor Lodge, in Waterbury. It’s right off Route 8. That’s where they used to meet up.” She sighs. “If I could turn back time, I’d have nailed that girl’s ass to her bedroom floor.”

“Abuela,” Esther soothes. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Essie, you’re with me,” Donny says. He pulls open the door. I join him, scanning the bikes.

“Where’s your Street Glide, Olivia?”

She says nothing.

“Jesus Christ. We don’t have time for this!” Donny barks. “Olivia, you’re with Cliff. Beer Can, Abraham. Let’s go.”

“Bring those babies back safely,” Mrs. Aguirre begs.

Before I duck through the door, her eyes meet mine. I nod, then turn away.

“Let’s go,” I tell Olivia. I mount the Screamin’ Eagle and pass her my helmet.

She pushes it away. “I’m right around the corner. Just drop me off.” She hops on behind me, her arms only loosely around my waist.

Chest tightening, I nod. Then I start the engine.

Thank you for reading Chapter 35 of A Risky Prospect, Book 2 in the River Reapers MC series.

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A Risky Prospect, Chapter 34

Officer Byrne holsters his flashlight. “You’re Olivia, right?”

A chill grips my spine. It isn’t fair that he knows my name but I don’t know his.

“Olivia,” he says again, shaking his head.

The way he’s saying my name nearly freezes my blood. I don’t remember much about him, just that he was the only other person in the house when it happened. For all I know, he’s as fucked up as his brother.

catch up A Risky Prospect, Chapter 1 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 2 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 3 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 4 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 5 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 6 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 7 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 8 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 9 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 10 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 11 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 12 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 13 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 14 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 15 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 16 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 17 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 18 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 19 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 20 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 21 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 22 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 23 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 24 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 25 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 26 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 27 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 28 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 29 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 30 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 31 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 32 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 33 Chapter 34Olivia

The younger version of Greg blinds me with his flashlight. “Ma’am,” he says, sounding not exasperated or even pissed off, but amused. “Do you know why I pulled you over?”

I lift my chin but keep my eyes down away from the light. It hits my face. I bet I’m glowing, I’m so pale from this winter.

Officer Byrne draws a sharp breath. He lowers the flashlight. “You,” he whispers.

The lower back holster seemed like such a good idea when I started riding. Now it keeps my gun miles out of reach. I glance at his hip holster, slung low like a cowboy, only inches from where his hand rests at his side.

“I remember you,” he says, voice a notch louder but still unsteady.

The sweat from the palms of my hands soaks into my jeans, making my skin clammy. I hold his gaze. If I look away, he might shoot me.

“You were at my mother’s house, with Greg,” he continues. Even in the dark, his hair blazes, his eyebrows two burning caterpillars, wriggling toward each other for a kiss. “I heard . . . something, but . . .” The knot in his throat bobs as he swallows. “I knew he liked to get rough sometimes.”

“Rough,” I scoff.

Sometimes I still feel his hands wrapped around my throat.

Officer Byrne holsters his flashlight. “You’re Olivia, right?”

A chill grips my spine, icy fingers walking their way up the vertebrae. It isn’t fair that he knows my name but I don’t know his.

“Olivia,” he says again, shaking his head.

The way he’s saying my name nearly freezes my blood. I don’t remember much about him, just that he was a punk teenager playing video games—the only other person in the house when it happened. For all I know, he’s as fucked up in the head as Greg is.

I wrap my arms around myself in the guise of a hug. My fingers only graze my ribs—still too far from my gun.

“I should’ve come downstairs,” he says softly. “I don’t even remember which game I was playing. I didn’t want to pause it. Maybe deep down I knew what was happening.”

I hold up a hand, remembering too late that I’m dealing with a cop. “I don’t want to talk about this.” The last thing I need right now is a flashback. If I have any chance of getting out of here alive, I need my head straight.

“What he did is on me.” Officer Byrne steps back a couple paces until his calves touch the front bumper of the police car. He sits on the hood, the palms of his hands planted on the shiny metal.

I nudge the Street Glide’s kickstand into place, then dismount, every step in slow motion—just in case. I turn, facing him. The longer I look at him, the more his features become his own. His eyes—so light a green, they’re almost gray—are so much softer than his brother’s. The locks of red hair that fall across his forehead, making him look even younger.

He sighs. “This bike is registered to a Mark Clayton.”

“My boss,” I explain. “I’m running an errand.”

He nods at my cut. “For the MC?”

“For my roommate. Her grandparents live around the corner.”

“I’m guessing you don’t have a motorcycle license,” he says.

I keep my eyes wide. “They’re literally right around the corner.”

His eyebrows rise then fall. “Uh-huh.” He crosses his arms. “Look, Olivia–”

“What’s your name?” I interrupt. I don’t want to think about that night. I don’t want to remember. I just want to forget. Still, I need to know his name. Maybe it’ll help me put it all to rest. Maybe it won’t. I just need to know.

“Finn.”

“Finn,” I repeat. “You were in the living room the whole time.” The words are out of my mouth before I can catch them, stuff them back down into the dark of my memory.

“Yes,” he says softly. “Greg introduced us.”

“And then he took me downstairs. To a partially finished basement. There was a load of laundry going, both in the washer and dryer.” Each frame of the memory rushes me. It’s as if Finn’s face is the key to where I’ve locked it all away. My fingers twitch for a cigarette. They’re in my saddlebag, go figure. “Is it okay if I get a cigarette?”

“Please.” He gestures toward the bike.

Sucking in a deep breath, I turn toward it, then walk on legs that might as well be weighted by sand bags. I grab what I need and light up, leaning against the bike.

“I saw you afterward,” he says while I smoke. “I pretended to be asleep on the couch, but I heard you guys come up. You looked so empty.” He rubs his temples. “He came back wrong.”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t mean that night. I mean before that night, when he came home on leave. He was so different. I should’ve known.”

I exhale smoke into the dark. “He didn’t seem off to me at first. He was excited to reconnect. I thought he really liked me. Turns out he just wanted a toy. Maybe he needed to hurt someone to work through all of the things he saw. I don’t know.”

“Doesn’t make it okay,” Finn says. “I’m really, really sorry.”

I lift my eyes, meeting his. “What about Cami?”

“What about her?”

“Is she okay? Does he . . . hurt her?”

He spreads his hands. “I don’t know. I don’t see them too often.”

“That night wasn’t the only time,” I tell him. “He lied to me over and over. He wanted to try different things. I’d say no, and he’d say no problem, then do it anyway. He always did whatever he wanted with me. It just escalated every time. After that night, I knew I couldn’t see him ever again, or he’d kill me.” I bite my lip hard, anchoring myself in the present. The salty, metallic taste of blood floods my tongue.

Finn’s face hardens. “I can’t change the past,” he says, “but I can do something now. I owe you, Olivia, and I don’t think it’ll ever be enough. I’m going to let you go.” He slides off the hood. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a business card. “This is my cell. Whatever you need, whenever you need it, just call me.” He holds it out to me.

I take the white rectangle, rubbing it between my thumb and forefinger. “I’ll hold you to that,” I tell him.

He nods, then gets into his car. “Take care of yourself, Olivia,” he says before closing his door. A moment later, he shuts off the flashing lights. Then he drives away, leaving me alone on the dark, quiet street.

I sink to the pavement, my knees finally giving out. Gasping for air, I crumple the card in my hand. I will never trust a Byrne, especially not a cop.

I throw my pack of cigarettes, lighter, and the crushed business card into my saddlebag. Then I retrieve my phone from where I left it on the seat.

By some miracle, Siri actually sent my text to Esther. It says it was delivered, but there’s no read mark—she hasn’t seen it yet.

There’s no more time to waste.

I flip through my photos, reading through the Figueroa file again, this time scouring for Josué’s address. It’d be faster to ride, but I can’t read at the same time. While I read, I walk toward Esther’s grandparents’. Somehow, some way, I’m ending this tonight. Esther and the girls deserve a new beginning.

Thank you for reading Chapter 34 of A Risky Prospect, Book 2 in the River Reapers MC series.

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A Risky Prospect, Chapter 33

Inside the pen, the only men with guns were the ones keeping us inside. Every time I had to fight, I only needed my own two fists.

Out here, on the other side of the bars, the rules are different. I got no idea what I’m walking into.

Catch Up A Risky Prospect, Chapter 1 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 2 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 3 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 4 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 5 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 6 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 7 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 8 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 9 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 10 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 11 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 12 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 13 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 14 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 15 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 16 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 17 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 18 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 19 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 20 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 21 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 22 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 23 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 24 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 25 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 26 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 27 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 28 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 29 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 30 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 31 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 32 Chapter 33Cliff

I push the Screamin’ Eagle, weaving through the streets. I’m breaking parole by speeding, but that’s nothing new. I should count myself lucky no one called the cops earlier. Since all I have is an address for Esther’s grandparents—no GPS, thanks to Donny jacking my phone—I have to rely on my memory of Naugatuck’s layout.

Which is next to nothing, considering I hardly drove anywhere before I went inside.

I slow, listening for the growls of my brothers’ motorcycles, something to give me a hint. Anything. The night is quiet—especially in this neighborhood. It’s the right neighborhood, that I’m sure of.

I cruise down a side street, the blue and red lights of a police car flickering through the trees from the next street over. Good—they’re busy with somebody else. Better them than me. I’ve got to help Donny and Esther, and make things right with Olivia.

Can’t do that from inside the pen.

I take a right and catch sight of bikes lined up in front of a brick ranch. Relief washes over me. I’m not too late.

I don’t see Olivia’s Street Glide.

Sliding in between Beer Can and Donny’s bikes, I shut off mine and pull off my helmet. Abraham sits on the front stairs, his long dark blond hair shrouding his features. He shakes his head at me.

“Brace yourself, brother.”

I stop, halfway up the walkway. “How pissed are they?”

“They?” He scoffs. “Try all of us. You’re in for it.” He sweeps his curtain of hair over a shoulder. In another life, Abraham could be a model. He’s solid, like me, all carefully maintained muscle. He’s also got naturally olive skin and smoky blue eye—all things women trip over themselves for. Unfortunately for them, Abraham is all about his boyfriend Rui.

My chest rises with a tight breath. “I’m gonna make this right.”

I head up the rest of the walkway and start climbing the stairs.

“There’s one more thing,” he says.

I pause beside him, one boot on the top step.

“We can’t get ahold of Olivia.” He lifts a shoulder. “Guess we’re gonna need Vaughn after all.”

I rub my face with my hands. “What do you mean, you can’t get ahold of her?”

“She’ll turn up. It’s Esther. She loves Esther.” But not you, is what he doesn’t say.

Or maybe it’s all in my head.

“Okay. Thanks for the heads up.” I continue onto the porch. Gripping the door knob, I stop again. I don’t know whether I’m supposed to knock or just walk in. This is club business—half of us are already inside. I don’t want to startle Esther’s grandparents, though. They’ve been through enough.

I raise a fist and knock.

“Dude.” Abraham chuckles. “Just go in. No one’s gonna shoot you.”

“Hope not,” I mutter. The gun that Donny gave me presses against the inside of my arm, the metal warm from my skin. I don’t know if its presence is what makes me think of it, or the fact that my brothers wait inside, each of them armed, too. Inside the pen, the only men with guns were the ones keeping us inside. Every time I had to fight, I only needed my own two fists. Once in a while an inmate would have a shank or a screw, but even those are easier to avoid in close combat than a bullet.

Out here, on the other side of the bars, the rules are different.

I walk inside.

Thank you for reading Chapter 33 of A Risky Prospect, Book 2 in the River Reapers MC series.

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A Risky Prospect, Chapter 32

On my motorcycle, a woman alone on the dark street, I check my mirrors. The cop that pulled me over waits in his car like he’s playing with me. He lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror, and the air vanishes from my lungs.

The face staring back at me is the same man who raped me.

catch up A Risky Prospect, Chapter 1 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 2 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 3 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 4 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 5 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 6 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 7 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 8 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 9 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 10 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 11 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 12 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 13 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 14 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 15 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 16 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 17 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 18 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 19 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 20 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 21 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 22 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 23 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 24 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 25 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 26 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 27 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 28 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 29 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 30 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 31 Chapter 32Olivia

I speed all the way to Esther’s grandparents’ house, hoping that this will be the one time Naugatuck cops won’t be assholes. That maybe this is the one night they’re not hanging around, just waiting to pull someone over. Time is being wrenched away. I can’t afford to drive the speed limit.

I also can’t afford to get a ticket, or arrested. I slow the Street Glide to only 5 mph above the limit. I should’ve become a cop instead of a social worker. Then I could fly all over this town.

Approaching a stop sign, I slow down. Naugatuck is all about the three-second stop. When Lucy took me out with my learner’s permit, I actually counted out loud, for fear a police cruiser would materialize and arrest me. How things have changed. Now if I see a cop, I’ll do the full stop. If there isn’t one in sight, I roll right on through.

Everyone here does it.

A squad car pulls up behind me, its front bumper only a few inches from my rear tire. I take the full stop, putting both feet on the pavement. I count to three in my head.

One.

Three seconds is an agonizing amount of time when there’s a cop watching. It’s even longer when they’re watching and someone’s life is on the line. Tonight, it’s three.

Two.

I check my rearview mirrors. He stares at my ass through his windshield. Or maybe he’s noting my plate. Technically, I don’t have a motorcycle license yet, and the Street Glide is registered under Mark’s name.

I swallow.

Three.

I pause, taking a breath. Then, putting both feet back up, I ease forward. Blue and red lights twirl through the street.

“Motherfucker,” I grumble, rolling to a stop again. He must’ve run my plate numbers.

Of all the nights.

He creeps up behind me, again nearly kissing my back tire. The lights wash the whole street in a slow strobe, an effect that makes my temples thud and my eyes ache. He doesn’t get out of his cage.

I glance into my mirrors again, without turning my head. I don’t want him to see that I’m nervous. Tonight I’m just a girl out for a ride, a girl who obeys stop signs and speed limits.

A girl who doesn’t have three kids and a rapist to worry about.

Make that two rapists.

My fingers twitch toward the throttle. On this bike, I can outrun him. I’m not far from the Aguirres’s house, so all it’d take is a quick canvas of the neighborhood and he’d find me. Plus I’m wearing my cut, and he’s probably already run the plate.

“Fuck,” I breathe.

I’m wearing my cut.

And my gun.

I’m fucked.

Completely and utterly done.

If he’s run my plates, he knows I’m not the owner. When he asks for my license and registration, he’ll know I’m driving this thing illegally. And since he’s a Naugatuck cop and a total dick by default, he’ll probably pat me down, just to piss all over the MC.

Because even though the police and the club have an uneasy agreement, they’re still cops and we’re still bikers.

Well, okay. I’m not one of them yet.

It doesn’t matter, because he’s going to find the gun.

Which means I’ll be spending the night in jail.

I almost laugh. Cliff and I are about to have a whole lot in common, something we could trade stories on if he hadn’t gone all alpha hero and I hadn’t broken up with him. There’s absolutely nothing funny about this. If I can’t get to Esther, they probably won’t find the girls. I’m the only one who knows Josué’s address.

I sit up straight. I’m not the only one. If I can call Esther, I can remind her to check her texts for the pics of the file I sent her. But if I pull out my phone, he’ll probably shoot me. He’ll get away with it, too, because technically I do have a gun on me.

Cold sweat dots my hairline, gathers at the small of my back. I wish I could take off this helmet. I’ve only got one move, so I better use it wisely.

“Hey Siri,” I say, voice shaking. I wait for the familiar two-note tinkle. Nothing happens. Fucking Siri. Squeezing my eyes shut, I say it louder.

Nothing.

I open my eyes and check my mirrors again. The motherfucker is still sitting in his car. It’s like he’s playing with me. I force myself not to glare at him. He turns back to his view of me, and the air vanishes from my lungs.

He looks just like Greg.

I gasp for breath. He can’t be Greg. What kind of musician works in law enforcement? That kind of kills the whole rock ‘n’ roll vibe.

Still, the face staring back at me is Greg’s. Younger, though. I blink, squint at the mirror while remaining upright in my seat. He looks like Greg, but he isn’t Greg. His face is thinner, softer. No beard.

I shake my head. It doesn’t matter who he is.

“Hey Siri!” I all but yell.

The phone in my cut dings.

“Call Esther.”

A second later, I hear the phone ringing. Only, I didn’t tell Siri to put it on speaker. I’ll never hear her, and she probably won’t hear me.

“Fuck,” I seethe.

In the rearview mirror, I see the cop’s door open.

“Hey Siri!”

The phone chimes, effectively ending my call.

“Call Esther on speaker.”

This time, the phone rings—echoing through the quiet street. The cop sticks a leg out of his car. I tap my boot on the ground.

“Please, Esther. Please.”

The call goes to voicemail.

“Hey Siri!”

When she responds, I tell her to call Cliff on speaker. I might be furious with him, but I’m not letting that get in the way. Those girls need us, whether we’re on or off. But Cliff’s phone rings, and rings, and rings. It might as well be in a ditch.

At least he didn’t hit the Fuck You button on me.

The officer slides out of his cage. I only have seconds left.

“Hey Siri!”

“Ma’am,” the cop calls.

I tap my boot harder, aware of how close he is, how loud he is. How he could so easily fuck up my commands, confuse Siri.

“Text Esther!”

“Please shut off your engine,” the cop says.

“What do you want to say to Esther?” Siri asks.

I shut off the engine and close my eyes. “I texted you the file. His address—”

“Ma’am, please stop what you’re doing.”

“Okay,” Siri announces. “Ready to send?”

“Yes!” I yell, putting my hands in the air. I have no idea if the text goes through, and no idea if she’ll even see it. All I see is his face, and the name on his uniform.

Byrne.

He isn’t Greg, but he is his brother—a face I haven’t seen since that night.

Thank you for reading Chapter 32 of A Risky Prospect, Book 2 in the River Reapers MC series.

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A Risky Prospect, Chapter 31

“Take it to the table!” Beer Can snaps. He shoves himself between Donny and me. I’m again reminded of how dangerous he can be, even if he’s as stocky as a Tolkien dwarf. “Cliff will answer for this,” he tells Donny, “at the table.” Turning to me, he squares his jaw. “I don’t know what your problem is, son, but pull it together. This is not about you. This is about the three girls we promised to help.”

catch up A Risky Prospect, Chapter 1 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 2 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 3 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 4 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 5 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 6 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 7 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 8 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 9 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 10 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 11 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 12 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 13 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 14 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 15 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 16 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 17 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 18 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 19 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 20 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 21 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 22 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 23 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 24 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 25 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 26 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 27 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 28 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 29 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 30 Chapter 31Cliff

“Shit.” Donny hangs up his phone and glances up and down the street we’re pulled over on. “Essie’s abuela called her. The girls are gone. Her abuelo’s brake line got cut, too.”

Beer Can leans forward, dangling his arms over the handlebars of his Road King, fingers resting on the fairing. “Anybody call the police? Issue an Amber Alert?”

“We need Olivia,” Donny says, turning in his seat to face me.

I spread my hands. “I don’t know where she is. Has anyone called the social worker?”

“Essie’s grandparents don’t want to call their social worker. Olivia’s our only shot.”

I rub my hands over my face, the stubble scratching my palms. “Do you really think she’s going to answer me?” I growl through my fingers.

Donny shoves the kickstand into place and jumps off his bike. He stalks over to me, towering over where I sit on my bike. He leers down at me. “Those girls could be anywhere right now!”

“I’ll call Vaughn,” I say, grabbing my phone. “He’ll get us an address for Josué. We will find them.”

Donny’s hands clench, unclench. “It’d be faster to call Olivia.”

“You’re wasting time arguing,” Beer Can says.

I touch Vaughn’s name in my contacts and bring the phone to my ear.

Donny points a finger in my face. “You better be calling Olivia.”

Even though I know he’s worried about Esther, blood whooshes through my veins. I kick the stand into place and rear above him. “I’m calling Vaughn.”

“Jesus Christ,” Beer Can mutters.

Donny snatches the phone from my hand and throws it. It disappears into the night. I don’t even hear it land. He seizes me by my cut. “I’m your fucking officer!”

“Then take it to the table!” Beer Can snaps. He drags Donny back, sidesteps him, and shoves himself between us. I’m again reminded of how dangerous he can be, even if he’s as stocky as a Tolkien dwarf. “Cliff will answer for this,” he tells Donny, “at the table.” Turning to me, he squares his jaw. “I don’t know what your problem is, son, but pull it together. This is not about you. It’s not about either of you! This is about three girls we promised to help.”

I bow my head.

Donny paces away, scowling.

“Now,” Beer Can says, pulling the biggest iPhone I’ve ever seen out of his cut, “I’m calling Olivia. If you can’t handle that, Romeo, I suggest you get the fuck out of here.” Eyeing me, he presses his mega phone to his ear. He keeps his volume so high, I can hear it ringing as clearly as if he had it on speaker.

I take a deep breath, waiting for her to pick up. Esther needs her, but I kind of hope she doesn’t answer. I’m not ready to see her yet. She called me a bastard, flung the word at me, splashing me with its acidic burn. Seeing Greg must’ve been a shock for her, but she wasn’t supposed to be there. I was going to take care of him before he could hurt her again.

Instead, we only hurt each other.

Words have power. That one slur cut deeper, maybe more so than she intended. I might be a monster, but I am not my father. For her to insinuate so is unforgivable.

“I’m going to get Vaughn,” I tell Beer Can. Before he can answer or Donny can stop me, I swing a leg over my bike. I bring it to life, the engine growling. Jaw tight, I ride away in the direction of The Wet Mermaid.

I’m halfway there when I realize I’ll also have to answer for this. If it means giving myself a little more time before I have to see her, so be it.

I pull into the parking lot and swing off the bike. I tuck the helmet under my arm and surge into the club, moving through the floor with ease. For the first time in days, the club isn’t packed to the brim. Oh Vile Eye definitely knew how to fill a house. The club will take a hit on income now, and I’ll probably have to answer for that, too.

I duck under the door frame of Mark’s office. Lucky for me, Ravage isn’t here.

“Thought you were handling something?” Mark asks, looking up from his computer.

“We need Vaughn. I lost my phone.” I shove my hands into the pockets of my jeans.

He takes off his thick black rectangular glasses. “The guys lose their phones, too?”

I regard him, saying nothing.

He shakes his head. “You’ve only been around for a few months, but you know better. Where are they?”

“Almost at Esther’s. We had to pull over because she was calling Donny. The girls are gone and her grandparents’ car’s been fucked with, too. It’s gotta be Josué. We need an address.”

His shoulders rise, then fall as he takes a deep breath. “Olivia’s just like Mercy. You know that.”

“Then why did you bring Greg here for me?” I tighten my grip on the helmet.

“Because once you told Ravage, Greg became a security issue that needed to be taken care of. But you know Olivia. There was no way she’d ever be okay with you handling her business for her.”

“What was I supposed to do?” I drop the helmet onto the desk and turn away, chest tight. “Nothing? Let him keep coming here, haunting her?” My voice breaks. I clench and unclench my fists, eyes burning.

“I know,” he says quietly. “I know.” His chair creaks as he stands. A second later, he puts a hand on my shoulder. “We all want him dead, but no one wants it more than Olivia. You’ve got to let her do this. She’s not a princess who needs saving, Cliff. She’s the fucking dragon, and she’s going to burn us all alive if we get in her way.”

Her voice echoes in my head: Bastard.

I nod.

“Your head’s getting all mixed up with your heart, and you’re losing your way. Your brothers understand what you’re going through,” he says. “Donny especially. He needs to find Josué, because Esther needs him to help slay her demon. She’s not Olivia, Cliff. She’s the princess, and you’ve got to back Donny up.”

“I fucked up,” I agree.

“Yeah.” He grips my shoulder and gives it a gentle shake. “Now how are you gonna fix it?”

Thank you for reading Chapter 31 of A Risky Prospect, Book 2 in the River Reapers MC series.

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Romanticizing the ugly, live reading to you, and turning you into a character

Remember how I was teasing “exciting things coming”? Well, those exciting things are here!

Romance with a Body CountElizabeth Barone’s Reader NewsletterFebruary 2025

Happy month of love!

Where I live, winter will be over… soon? Usually I spend this season miserable, not gonna lie. It’s cold, and when it gets cold, my joints get uncooperative. Then the depression kicks in, and the whole cycle starts all over again. This winter I’ve been determined to find things to fall in love with, and I’ve fallen hard. Here are a few of the things I’ve been romanticizing:

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Sometimes, you just gotta kick it old school. I printed out a hard copy of Sleeve of Hearts and went to town with a red pen, some Post-its, and a stapler. I feel a bit like a butcher, but this book is finally shaping into what I envisioned, so it’s worth it. Not only have I been restructuring the thing, I’m also writing new scenes that work so much better.

One thing about me, I will rewrite a book until it’s right. Now that I’m armed with healthier boundaries, some deep inner work, and craft enrichment, it feels right and good. I’m happier than ever and doing some of my best work. I seriously can’t wait for you guys to read Kinsley & Antoni’s story!

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Books, Bud, and Brews is a show where we cozy up, spark up, and pour up. It feels like a live, but you can watch or listen at your convenience. There are usually two topics, one geared for readers and the other for writers, and a “reading to you” segment. This week we’re talking about characters healing trauma together in romance, and author burnout. Watch Episode 2 now!

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A Risky Prospect, Chapter 30

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