Reaper's Till Death (Devils Rejects MC 3)

Chapter One

—Harley—

Drag Creek, Kentucky

When I come out to my car after my shift at the tanning salon, the driver’s side door is open, and my interior lights are on.

“Hello,” I call out like an idiot. As though whoever broke into my car is gonna be all, “oh hey, Harley, I ganked your stereo,” or some shit. Shaking my head, I walk around my vehicle hoping like hell no one jumps out at me. Knowing my luck, it’d be one of my idiot brothers being a jerk. Axel and Abel are good for embarrassing me.

My battery better not be dead. Who knows how long the door has been open with the interior lights on this way.

I don’t see anyone around. The parking lot is empty. Shrugging I go to get in when I see something in the tan leather seat.

“What the fuck!” There is a used condom in my car. This is the second time this week. What the serious fucking fuck is wrong with people?

Fucking Kyler. I bet he did this shit. I am fuming. I am fairly certain steam is about to blow from my ears. Digging my cell phone out of my bag, I fire off a text.

Harley: You are so fucking lame.

Kyler: The fuck do you want?

Harley: Seriously…fuck off.

Kyler: You texted ME!

Harley: Well if you weren’t breaking into my car like a lame asshole I wouldn’t need to.

Kyler: Break into your car?! I’m not even in Drag Creek, you stupid bitch. I’m on a run for the club. I’m not even in the state. I’m balls deep in some premium pussy. So, take your psycho shit elsewhere. I’m done.

I won’t cry.

I refuse to cry.

Fuck him.

Kyler is dead to me. My father sat him down and told him he could be a prospect or my boyfriend. Needless to say, he chose the club. The club always comes first for a biker. I knew better than to get involved with Ky, but I fell for him hard and fast. Stupid and blind—first loves and heartbreak are the worst.

I fucking hate bikers. Not all of them but most of them only care about their motorcycles and getting their dick wet. That boy sure as fuck never cared about me. I was a conquest. His first but most definitely not his last.

Obviously, all Kyler cares about is being like his old man, Tread. A mean ass biker. An outlaw who rides alongside with my father, Rebel Black, president of the Black Rebel Riders’ Motorcycle Club.

I snap a picture of the condom laying in the driver’s seat of my car and send it to my brothers in a group text.

Harley: You guys went too damn far this time.

Asshat brothers:

Abel: Da fuck?!

Axel: Is that your car?

Harley: You guys aren’t yanking my chain?

Axel: Hell no. Why the fuck would we put something like that in your car?

Abel: Sick ass shit. I don’t want to know anything about you and your nasty ass condoms.

If they didn’t do it who did? I figured they were trying to scare me into moving back home. My parents aren’t too happy with me right now. I decided not to go to college, and I moved into an apartment on my own. I thought Kyler would be living with me, but I don’t need him or any man for that matter.

Abel: Where are you?

Harley: Getting ready to leave work.

Axel: Need one of us to come check shit out?

Harley: Nah. Probably some whore Kyler has been fucking being stupid.

Abel: I’m gonna fuck him up.

Axel: Not if I see that motherfucker first. I owe him a beatdown.

Harley: Forget his lame ass. I have.

Saying and doing are two completely different things. Only I am no longer hurt I’m mad.

Going over to the passenger side, I get a napkin from the glovebox to dispos

e of the nasty ass condom.

I toss it in the trash then get an old towel from the trunk I use when I clean my car out to lay on the seat. I am totally having my car detailed in the morning.