by Mary Potter
Reaper
Devil’s Mayhem
CORPUS CHRISTI CHAPTER
MC ROMANCE
Mary Potter
This book is a work of fiction. Other names, characters, places, dialogue, businesses, places, events,
and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. All sexual activity
in this work is consensual, and all sexually active characters are 18 years of age or older.
Copyright © 2020
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without expressed written permission from the author/publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review in any media format.
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Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Prologue: Kyra
Chapter One: Reaper
Chapter Two: Reaper
Chapter Three: Reaper
Chapter Four: Kyra
Chapter Five: Reaper
Chapter Six: Kyra
Chapter Seven: Kyra
Chapter Eight: Reaper
Chapter Nine: Reaper
Chapter Ten: Kyra
Chapter Eleven: Reaper
Chapter Twelve: Kyra
Chapter Thirteen: Reaper
Chapter Fourteen: Kyra
Chapter Fifteen: Reaper
Chapter Sixteen: Reaper
Chapter Seventeen: Kyra
Chapter Eighteen: Reaper
Chapter Nineteen: Kyra
Chapter Twenty: Reaper
Chapter Twenty-One: Kyra
Epilogue: Reaper
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About The Author
Prologue: Kyra
As the door shuts behind me, closing out the sounds of heavy music and the bright, strobing lights, I heave a sigh of relief and exhaustion, closing my eyes as I tip my head back slightly.
Another shift is over. Hopefully, I’m one step closer to the end, whenever that might be. At this point, I’ve almost given up on finding another job that pays as well and offers me the hours that I get at Night Pleasures. Of course, I’d much prefer not to be here.
I pull my thick, heavy coat from my locker and tug it around me, cinching it firmly around the waist, but it doesn’t stop the feeling of the eyes that were on me, raking over my body eagerly as they waited to see each new strip of flesh revealed for their pleasure. They started hooting the moment I came on stage, standing in a bright spotlight that hid nothing, dressed in a skimpy outfit of sparkles and lace.
But they hadn’t been there for the outfit. They were there for what was underneath.
I scowl at myself in the small mirror set in the door of my locker. I hate the heavy makeup that’s caked across my face, as well as the ridiculously high shoes strapped to my feet and the tiny, velvet panties that are all that’s left of my costume after stripping for the loud, raucous crowd tonight. I don’t look like myself. I don’t look like someone who is respectable and happy.
I certainly don’t look like the single mother of a ten-year-old girl.
I close the door of the locker a little harder than necessary after I pull my clothes out, and I turn away. Emma—everything I do these days is for Emma. I fight to provide for her. Without her deadbeat father on the scene and without any sort of monetary help from him, it’s been a struggle to feed both her and myself over the years. It’s why I ended up stripping in this club. The hours are good since I work when she’s tucked in bed, and it offers me good money to show myself to a crowd that specifically comes to see me.
Suddenly, the door opens. There’s a momentary bright flash, and the beat of the music almost deafens me before the door is closed again. I blink past the spots in my vision, and when I see who entered, I glare.
Paul Michaels, better known by his nickname, Chains, stands in front of the now-closed door. He’s never said, but the rumor around the club is that he’s part of some sort of gang. A lot of the other girls whisper about him, about the way he corners some of the workers when they’re alone and demands more service from them in order for them to keep their jobs.
I suddenly feel incredibly vulnerable, and I pull my jacket tighter around myself. Chains, however, seems just as surprised to see me as I am to see him.
“What are you doing here?” he demands.
“Dressing,” I say, holding my clothes up for proof. “My shift has ended.”
For a moment, it looks like Chains might argue. Then he glances at his watch and scowls.
“Hurry up and get out of here,” he says rudely, stalking past me and out the back door.
When he’s gone, I let out a breath that I hadn’t realized I’d been holding and scramble to put my clothes back on properly, making sure to tug each article firmly in place. It makes me feel better to be fully clothed again, and I can’t wait to get out to my car and scrub off the heavy foundation that’s beginning to make my skin itch.
As I pick up my bag, one of the other girls enters through a side door. She must have been backstage, unlike me. I’d had to walk off the stage and through the crowd before leaving. It’s a tradition for us all when our shift ends. Since she’s come from the darkened corner, it means she must be on break.
“Hey, Allison,” I say, and I know she can hear how tired I am.
“Kyra,” Allison says with an attempt at a smile, not quite able to cover a yawn. She’s half-naked, but she doesn’t bother to try to cover herself. There’s not much point. “Are you heading home?”
“Yeah,” I say, hefting my bag onto my shoulder. “How much longer do you have?”
“Until close,” Allison groans, rolling her eyes. “I’m just taking my break now.”
“It’s not so bad,” I say, trying to console her. “Most of the guys are either gone or passed out by the time close comes around.”
“Doesn’t mean I want to keep showing my tits for that long,” Allison says, gesturing to her breasts, which slightly bounce as she moves. “The crowd tonight gives me the jitters. There are some real pervs out there.”
I grimace. There are always perverts in the crowd. But, Allison isn’t wrong. It felt oddly more intense tonight.
“Just try to get through it,” I advise. “It’ll be over soon enough. I’ll be back on Wednesday. I’ll see you then?”
“Thursday, actually,” Allison corrects. “I’m off on Wednesday.”
“See you then,” I say with another yawn, and Allison waves me off as I head out to the back.
I can see my car, which is parked as close as I could get to the building. Usually, one of the guys at the bar walks us out, but we’re packed tonight, so I don’t bother going to get them. They wouldn’t have time to spare right now, and I can’t bear to wait another minute more in this place.
As I approach my car, I hear low, murmured voices. There’s another car, a dark sedan, parked two spots away from mine, and two men are standing beside it. One of them is Chains. The other is a man that I only vaguely recognize. He’s around every now and then, but he’s
never been introduced to any of us before.
They fall silent as I approach. In my pocket, I curl my hand around my keys, my shoulders tense, and I keep my eyes on my car. Maybe I should have just waited for one of the guys, after all.
“Valkyrie, right?”
At the sound of my stage name, I pause, startled, and I turn my head. Chains glares at me, obviously annoyed that I interrupted their conversation, but the other man looks me up and down with a look that openly shows how he is considering me.
“Yes,” I say, stamping down the urge to correct him. I don’t really want this man to know my real name right now. Is he a fan? “Sorry, I have to…”
“Your performances are something else,” the man says smoothly. “No wonder you’re the favorite. Chains, here, has told me a lot about you.”
A shiver runs down my spine. He has? I glance at the club’s manager. What, exactly, has he told this man about me?
“Your particular talents are something to be admired,” the man says, stepping closer to me.
I want to turn and run, but my feet are frozen as he approaches, looking almost like a predator stalking his prey. But when I hear his words, my tongue unsticks.
“What talents?” I ask before I can stop myself. “I don’t call flashing every drooling man in there a talent.”
The man stops. He is so close that I can feel the heat from his skin. Then he laughs, and I shudder as he leans in.
“You’re a feisty one,” he murmurs. He reaches out, and I draw in a started breath as he runs a hand down my cheek. “I think I’d have some use for you.”
All right, this has officially crossed the line into a territory I do not want to be dealing with right now. I step backward. Before I can go very far, the man’s hand shoots out and wraps around my wrist in a bruising grip. I flinch, but he just calmly smiles at me.
“We haven’t been introduced,” he says blandly, as though he hasn’t just grabbed me and forced me to stay here. “My name is Richard Griffin.”
The name stirs a vague memory.
“Aren’t you a real estate agent?” I ask, fingering my keys in my pocket.
“I am,” Griffin says with a nod, looking pleased. “However, I am also part of several other businesses. I’m the number one supporter of Night Pleasures, after all. Without my generous donations, this place wouldn’t exist.”
I don’t really give a damn. I just want to get in my car and drive away. I want to go home, hug my daughter, and forget all about this night.
“Great,” I say with realistic enthusiasm.
“Of course, such donations often come with a cost. Isn’t that right, Chains?” Griffin continues.
I glance at Chains. I would have expected him to look insulted at the insinuation that he owed this real estate agent anything. Instead, he’s smirking. Dread curls in my stomach.
“Yes, I owe him quite a few favors,” Chains says.
“But we managed to sort some things out,” Griffin says, his eyes boring into mine. His thumb is rubbing circles on the inside of my wrist, and it makes me feel ill. “His business is great at providing what I need for my own endeavors.”
My mind flashes to another rumor that I’ve heard. This one was more frightening than the one about Chains taking advantage of vulnerable women. Many of the other girls dropped out of the club, often without any warning. Chains told us that they quit, but we’ve never heard from any of them again. One time, Janelle was worried about one of our younger girls who disappeared, so she tried to find her. Janelle could not get hold of the girl, and the girl’s apartment was empty.
The rumor springs to mind now as my thoughts race. I’m not an idiot. Missing girls, and now a sleazy real estate agent saying that Chains is providing him with what he needs? Yeah, the link could be seen a mile off.
I wrench my wrist out of Griffin’s hand, my heart pounding. It’s more frightening, however, that Griffin simply allows me to pull my wrist free, watching me with a calm expression as I scramble back a few steps, wanting to put as much distance between us as possible.
Even if a part of my mind is already screaming that it’s too late, I don’t care. I’ll put up a fight to get out of here. I’ll get back to my daughter.
But I was doomed from the moment I stopped to speak to Griffin and Chains. I should have just ignored them and went on my way. If I’d done that, I would already be in the safety of my locked car, pulling onto the highway and driving away from this place of nightmares.
I’m not quick enough to get away now, after wasting so much time. I walk backward, straight into strong, thick arms that grab me and wrap around my chest, trapping my arms at my side. I shriek as loudly as I can, even though I know no one will hear me over the loud music in the club. I try to fight, twisting and throwing myself sideways in a desperate attempt to get myself free. But the arms are too strong, and I was taken off guard.
“Don’t worry, Valkyrie,” Griffin says as he watches me struggle. He is as calm as if he were simply commenting on the day’s weather. “We’ll find a much better use for your talents now.”
Even as I fight, even as I scratch, scream, and kick, all the while being dragged toward the black sedan, I know it’s useless. I don’t know where I’m going now, but all I can do is hope that, eventually, I’ll get the chance to escape.
Chapter One: Reaper
Three weeks earlier…
I stand in the doorway of the room, taking a moment to breathe in deeply before the occupants notice me. Then I step inside.
My father looks up, and his expression lightens when he sees me. “Jack!” he exclaims. “You came!”
“Yeah,” I grunt, clasping his hand in mine in a strong, reassuring hold.
Then I turn to my mother. I’ve only been gone for a few months, but she’s gone severely downhill since I last saw her. In the hospital bed, she looks pale and small, but she still manages to smile and reach out to me. I step in and lean down, hugging her gently.
“How are you, Mom?” I ask as I pull back.
“I’ve been better,” she chuckles, a smile on her face. It’s nice to see her in such good humor, though there’s no way to ignore how sick she is. “How are you?”
“Been better,” I parrot, making her chuckle. “Nah, I’m good.”
I glance at my father. There’s a tiny seed of resentment burning in me that I try to squash flat. Why didn’t he call me back sooner? It’s obvious that Mom has been struggling for some time, and this isn’t a new development. On top of that, she’s deteriorated in a frighteningly short amount of time. I close my eyes. I shouldn’t be upset. I made it clear that I wanted to be left alone following Lacey’s—
I cut the thought short as pain clutches my chest. No, I don’t want to think about that.
“What happens now?” I ask my parents.
“We’ve been talking about options,” Dad says, glancing at Mom. “The facilities here are good, but the travel to the city every week is taking a lot out of your mother. We need to be closer, to have better access to the clinics every day if need be.”
I feel my stomach sink.
“You guys are moving?” I ask.
“We have to,” Dad says. There’s a determined look in his eyes. The decision has been made, and there will be no shaking him from it. “It’s the only way to have a chance.”
I draw in a deep breath and nod.
“Yeah,” I say. I don’t like the thought of Mom being so far away, where it would take me some time to get to her if something went wrong, but, “It will be better for her to be around her doctors.”
Mom reaches out and slides her hand into mine, giving it a brief squeeze. Her grip is still strong, despite her frail appearance.
“When do you go?” I ask.
“As soon as we can,” Dad says. He glances at Mom again, and the expression on his face sets my nerves on edge. “We have a few things to finish sorting out first. The house will go on the market next week, and I’ve found a job in the city to start in t
wo weeks’ time. I also need to sort out Devil's Mayhem.”
There it is. I’ve been expecting him to bring that up ever since I stepped into the room. After all, Viper already told me what they wanted.
I spent a long time during my journey home thinking about it. There’s a lot that I want to say and do. Part of me just wants to walk away, as I did several months ago, but I’m in a better place now, and there’s a large part of me that misses the Devil's Mayhem. I’ve been part of the club for a very long time, and it was part of me.
“You want me to take over,” I say bluntly.
He doesn’t even look surprised. He just gives a short nod.
“I’m willing to discuss it,” I tell him. “But if I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it my way.”
For the first time, surprise washes over my father’s face. It’s not often that anyone catches him off guard. As Crusher, the powerful, strict leader of the club, he’s always seemed to know everything that goes on around him. It tells me that he thought I would just take over and leave everything as it is.
I have no intention of doing that, and Dad needs to know that before he hands me the reins. I’ve always known I would take over one day, and I have more than one idea in my head about the changes I want to make.
“What do you have in mind?” he asks after a moment.
“Viper’s told me what’s been going on,” I say. “You’ve got a lot on your plate, and things started falling apart with both of us absent. Chains has taken the lead as the new VP, and he’s already started dealing with shady cartels. He’ll either break the club or lead it down to what it was when you started it.”
My father looks me in the eye, refusing to be embarrassed for how he acted in his youth. Right now, he’s every bit Crusher, the leader.
“But I want to go the opposite way,” I continue. “We’ve skated the line of the law long enough. We’re going to go legit. Give back to the community. The brothers and sisters of the club can go out there and get proper fucking jobs instead of relying on the income of stolen goods. This club shouldn’t be carrying them. If they don’t like it, they can find somewhere else.”