A Dixie Reapers Bad Boys Romance
Dixie Reapers MC, Book 20
Motorcycle Club Romance, Age Gap, Suspense
Date Published: March 29, 2024
Ares – My life hasn’t always been kittens and rainbows. I spent
years as a captive, so when someone breaks into the compound and threatens
my little siblings, I go with the kidnappers instead. I’ve survived
being enslaved before, but the little ones wouldn’t make it. I can
only hope the club will find me in time.
Prophet – I’ve been patiently waiting for Ares to not only be
old enough for me to date her, but also for her to be ready. But I waited
too f**king long, and now she’s been taken. The bastard who has her is
going to pay, and once she’s back in my arms, I’m never letting
her go again.
WARNING: Prophet is intended for readers 18+ due to adult content, darker
themes, language, and violence. While it can be read as a stand-alone, you
may enjoy the story more if you read Joker first.
EXCERPT
Ares
Times had changed. The Dixie Reapers’ clubhouse no longer boasted
loud parties and naked women. Well, the naked women were gone, at any rate.
Music pulsed from the speakers as everyone took a much-needed break. My dad
had been in Church off and on since this mess started, and more often than
not, the members hung out in the clubhouse discussing the issue at hand.
Except right now, the doors were open to anyone.
I sat at the bar with a soda. Portia sat on one side of me and
Venom’s youngest, Dawson, was on my other side. Patched members lined
the bar on either side of them.
“Pass me a beer, Ares,” Bull shouted from farther down. I
reached over the counter into the ice chest, then slid the longneck down the
bar top. I caught a smirk from my father as he watched.
“Hey, Pres. Think your girl has a future as a bartender,” Bull
said. He chuckled and twisted the top off. “She’s got good
aim.”
“Better than Foster’s aim last week,” I shot back, a
playful jab at his son’s appalling shooting during target practice. He
snorted and took a swallow of his beer, while Foster shot me a glare.
This place was my home. Dad and the Dixie Reapers had been my salvation,
pulling me from the abyss with hands as rough as the life they led. Even
though I couldn’t be a patched member, I was a Reaper’s kid. My
dad had given me permission to get the club colors inked on my shoulder
blade. It was a super small one compared to the ones the guys here had.
I’d seen quite a few with the colors covering their entire backs. In
addition, I’d gotten a phoenix rising from the ashes inked on the
outside of my right thigh — a mirror of my own rebirth.
Foster might be mad at me right now, but I knew he’d get over it. In
a lot of ways, he was like a brother to me. All of the kids here close to my
age felt like family. Although, Foster, Owen, and Dawson were all older than
me. Not that I could tell when it came to Foster.
Cowboy’s son, Jackson, entered the clubhouse, his cowboy boots
thudding against the wood floor as he came closer. He put his arms around me
and hugged me from behind.
“You smell like horses and dirt.”
“Mom always said it was the best scent in the world.”
I couldn’t help but laugh a little. Yeah, I could see his mother
saying that. “Well, it’s better than sweat, I guess. Preparing
for your next rodeo?”
“I was planning to head out in the morning, but with everything going
on…”
I tipped my head back to look up at him. “You should go. If you put
your life on hold every time something bad happens around here, you’ll
never get to do the one thing you love most.”
He kissed the top of my head. “Yeah, I know. You’re awfully
smart for someone so young.”
“You’re only six years older than me, Jackson. It’s not
like you’re ancient.”
“In rodeo years, I’m over a decade older than you.”
I really did laugh that time. “Is that like dog years or
something?”
“Close enough. Hand me a beer. I’m going to go with Akira.
She’s in the corner with her nose in a book again.”
I reached over for another longneck and passed it to him. He patted my
shoulder before wandering off. I watched him, noticing he hadn’t lied.
Akira, Wraith’s daughter, really did have a book in front of her face.
From the cover, no one would realize she was reading smut. If her parents
had any idea of the types of books she bought, they’d both have a
fit.
I sipped on my soda and just soaked up the atmosphere. My friends and
family were all talking or laughing. Despite everything going on outside the
club gates, they seemed at peace in this particular moment. Happy. I hoped
things could stay like this. I didn’t want anyone here to suffer the
way I had.
“Never thought I’d see the day,” Tank said, approaching
with a smile on his face. “Ares Black, quiet as a church
mouse.”
I smirked, nudging him with my elbow. “Just soaking it all in. Some
days, I don’t remember how blessed I am, until we’re all
together like this. Family. Friendship. As long as we have those, we can
weather any storm.”
“Damn straight.” He clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder.
“We’re always in your corner, Ares.”
“Same here,” I replied. It wasn’t just words — it was a
promise. We were the Dixie Reapers, and we protected our own with the
ferocity of a mother bear defending her cubs. I might not be a member of the
club itself, but as the President’s daughter, these people were still
my family, and I’d die to keep them safe.
I glanced at my watch and stood. Joker wanted Cleo to feel welcome here,
and while I wasn’t quite ready to be friends with the woman, I also
knew what it was like to be the outsider. I’d promised to head over
and play a board game. Instead of driving, I decided to walk. The fresh air
would be nice, and it would give me time to get my thoughts in order. It
felt like utter chaos inside my head these days.
Ridley and Isabella were already there when I arrived. I fell into step
behind them as they entered Joker’s home. Ridley had a few board games
tucked under her arm. At least they’d come prepared, because I doubted
Joker had any. I’d already given them a few of the ones we had at home
that I thought might be fun.
“Hey, Cleo,” I said.
“Good to see you guys.” Her voice sounded hollow, and it looked
like she hadn’t been sleeping well.
Isabella walked over to her first, giving her a hug. “How are you
holding up?”
“Counting down the minutes,” she said.
Ridley clapped her hands together, the sound sharp in the quiet room.
“We’re here to take your mind off things. Right,
Ares?”
I nodded. “Yeah, we brought some board games. Thought we could all
use a distraction.”
“Thanks,” she murmured.
We settled around her kitchen table. Before we’d even had a chance to
set up the game, someone knocked on the door. Joker went to answer. Ridley
started to set up one of the games, and Isabella and I helped. I noticed
Cleo kept glancing toward the door.
He returned with an envelope and handed it to Cleo. “For
you.”
“Who’s it from?” she asked. She ripped open the envelope
and as she read the contents of the paper inside, she paled a bit.
“Everything all right?” Isabella asked.
“Fine,” she said. Did anyone else notice the tremor in her
voice or the way her hands trembled? “Just a reminder about my
appointment.”
“Ah, can’t forget that,” Ridley said.
“Let’s focus on the game,” Cleo suggested.
I rolled the dice and gave a little shout of excitement, hoping to make
things seem as normal as possible. “All right!”
Everyone took their turns rolling the dice and moving their tokens. When it
went around to Cleo, she stared at the board, almost as if she wasn’t
fully present. I glanced at Ridley and Isabella, and realized they’d
noticed it too. Cleo must have a lot on her mind between the issues with her
family and her heart problem.
“Your move, Cleo,” Ridley prompted.
“Right,” she mumbled.
We played for quite a while, until the sky started to darken. I
didn’t know if this had distracted Cleo or not, but it had kept me
from focusing on things for a while. I hadn’t realized how much
I’d needed this until now. I helped clean up the games, then we told
Joker and Cleo goodbye.
Ridley offered me a ride, but I waved her off. The walk would do me some
good. I paused at the clubhouse and stared at my car. It didn’t make
sense to leave it here overnight, but at the same time, I’d prefer to
get home on my own two feet than by driving there. I decided to leave it and
kept walking.
A sudden chill prickled my skin, a whisper of danger that tightened my
muscles. A feeling of unease skittered down my spine, and I wondered if
trouble was drawing closer than any of us realized.
When I got home, there was a wrongness I felt all the way to my core. I
slowly approached the house, keeping an eye on my surroundings, just the way
Dad had taught me. I twisted the knob on the front door and pushed it
open.
“Mom? Are you here?” I called out. Nothing. Not so much as a
whisper of sound. I eased farther into the house, wondering if I should call
Dad. Dessa’s car was outside, which meant she had to be here. She
hadn’t ridden with him to the clubhouse earlier, even though
she’d been there with the kids.
“Junie, Judd, Marnie!” I shouted.
No one answered, and I couldn’t find anyone at home. I went back
outside, wondering if maybe they went to a neighbor’s house. Before
I’d made it to the end of the driveway, I felt the cold kiss of metal
against my neck.
About the Author
Harley Wylde is an accomplished author known for her captivating MC
Romances. With an unwavering commitment to sensual storytelling, Wylde
immerses her readers in an exciting world of fierce men and irresistible
women. Her works exude passion, danger, and gritty realism, while still
managing to end on a satisfying note each time.
When not crafting her tales, Wylde spends her time brainstorming new
plotlines, indulging in a hot cup of Starbucks, or delving into a good book.
She has a particular affinity for supernatural horror literature and movies.
Visit Wylde’s website to learn more about her works and upcoming events, and
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Author on Facebook, Instagram, & TikTok: @harleywylde
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@changelingpress
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