by B E Kelly
Reaper
Reckoning MC Seer Book 1
By BE Kelly
Reaper (Reckoning MC Seer Book 1)
Copyright © 2020 by BE Kelly.
Cover design: Lee Ching at Under Cover Designs
Editor: Tracey Nyland
Imprint: Independently published
First Print Edition: January 2020
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Elizabeth
Reaper
Elizabeth
Reaper
Elizabeth
Reaper
Elizabeth
Elizabeth
Reaper
Elizabeth
Reaper
Elizabeth
Reaper
Elizabeth
Reaper
Elizabeth
Reaper
Elizabeth
Reaper
Elizabeth
Epilogue
Tank
Lyra
Elizabeth
Elizabeth stood by the ocean and giggled as the waves gently crashed around her legs. She heard a small voice behind her cursing the water for destroying a sandcastle and turned to find a boy who looked to be a few years older than her, playing in the sand.
“Hi,” she said, holding up her hand to shield her eyes from the blazing sun.
“Hi,” the dark-haired boy returned.
“You need some help rebuilding your castle?” she questioned. The boy looked down the beach to where his sister and mother sat playing cards on their beach blanket.
“No,” he stubbornly spat. “I need for the ocean to stop swallowing up my work,” he protested, throwing a handful of sand at the water for good measure. Elizabeth giggled and the boy shot her a disgruntled look.
“What’s so funny?” he questioned.
“Nothing,” she lied. Her mother always told her it was best not to pick fights that you couldn’t win and this boy looked to be angry at the entire universe.” What’s your name?” she asked.
“Chris,” the boy said. “But you can call me Reaper.” He stood and formally held out his hand, as if he was suddenly transformed into an adult and not the same boy who just childishly threw sand at the ocean a few seconds ago.
“Hi Reaper,” she said, taking his sandy hand. “I’m Elizabeth but everyone calls me Beth,” she said.
He took her hand into his and tightened his grip, as if he was trying to squeeze it completely apart from her arm. “Ow Reaper,” she protested. “You’re hurting my hand.” She looked back down the beach to where his mother and sister were just playing cards but they were gone. Would they just leave the boy on the beach without a word?
“Someone help,” she shouted but no one was around to hear her cries. The once crowded beach was completely empty and it was now just her and Reaper. “Why are you doing this?” she shouted.
“I need you to come find me, Lizzy,” he whispered.
“That’s not my name,” She corrected. “I told you I like to be called Beth.”
“But you’re my Lizzy,” Reaper said. “You’ll always be my Lizzy. Come find me, please.” Elizabeth pulled her hand free from his and fell back into the sand. The surf engulfed her and she was dragged out into the almost violent water, not quite sure what had happened and how things seemed to get so turned around.
Once again, she cried for help but no one could hear her except Reaper. He stood on the sandy shore and waved to her, “Find me, Lizzy,” he yelled. “I need you. Don’t forget.”
****
Elizabeth Sibyl woke in a cold sweat, not sure why tonight’s episode seemed so much worse than the others. She had the same recurring dream just about every night since she was ten, but tonight’s visions seemed to upset her more than most nights. She looked down at her hand; the same one that Reaper held in his and painfully squeezed, stretching and flexing her fingers. She wore his fingerprints on her skin, just as she had most nights, but tonight it was as if she could still feel his touch.
“Who are you, Reaper?” she whispered to herself. Her cat, Raven, looked at her as if she had some nerve disturbing his sleep and stood to turn three times in a circle and then he curled into another tight ball to find his slumber. He was always by her side, especially when she slept and when she woke from a dream, he seemed to be able to sense her distress, even if he didn’t seem to care.
Beth really wanted to roll back over and try to let sleep take her again, but that meant risking being sucked back into the same vision and she didn’t want to chance that. Instead, she decided to get up and hopefully finish the painting she had been working on—the one of the ocean that always seemed to remind her of Reaper and her dreams of being by the shore.
It had just been purchased by an anonymous buyer in Southern California and she had a few finishing touches to put on it before sending it out. Honestly, she worried that once she actually finished it, she wouldn’t be able to send it out. It was the most personal painting she had ever done and the thought of letting it go into the world made her heart ache a little.
Beth spent the morning painting by the dim light of the pre-dawn sky and when she was sure she couldn’t possibly add any more detail to the painting, she thought of something else from her dream. Painting used to act as an outlet for her to let the dream out—give it life and let it go. Her grandmother saw how Elizabeth seemed to suffer more and more after every episode. One day, her grandmother took her to an art supply store and told her to pick something that would allow her to get her visions down onto paper or in this case—canvas.
Her grandmother was the first person in her life to realize what she could do. She was the one who explained to Elizabeth that she was a seer and apparently she came from a long line of women just like her. Although her grandma never came right out and admitted it, Beth suspected that she was also a seer and that gave her some comfort—knowing she wasn’t all alone in the world. It made her feel like less of a freak. Beth’s mother and father were too busy fighting and clawing at each other’s throats to pay her any attention. When she’d cry out in the middle of the night, her father would stumble into her room, flick on her overhead light and tell her that it was just a bad dream. He even went as far as to tell her to think happy thoughts as she drifted back to sleep but that never worked. At least her dad tried. Her mother usually just shouted at her to shut up and go back to sleep or she’d give her something to cry about. Yeah—her mother wasn’t really cut out for the whole mom thing, but she had her dad when times got rough and Beth could always count on her grandmother.
The sun was just about up when her cell phone rang and Beth knew who it was before she even looked at the screen. “Lyra.” She smiled.
“Hey, why are you awake?” Lyra questioned. Lyra was Beth’s younger sister. They were only nineteen months apart and looked so similar that everyone thought they were twins.
“How did you know I was awake?” Beth asked. She grabbed her paint brushes and walked back into the house from her sun porch which doubled as her studio. It always got the best light, even before the sun came up.
“Well, I didn’t,” Lyra lied. Beth knew that her little sister had the same visions and abilities she had but she seemed almost afraid to admit it. Beth couldn�
�t blame her, really. Saying the words out loud made her not only feel crazy but sound it too. If Lyra wanted to keep that part of herself private then Beth was willing to play along.
“You just answered the phone and I thought I’d get your voicemail,” Lyra continued. “I was just going to leave a message.”
“Oh, and what were you going to say?” Elizabeth countered.
“Um—I was going to ask if you wanted to meet for lunch. I have a few things I need to run past someone and well, I don’t trust too many other people besides you,” Lyra said. Beth wanted to “Aww” into the phone but she knew Lyra well enough to know that would just piss her off. If her sister needed her, she’d be there.
“Just name the time and place and I’ll meet you,” Beth offered.
“Thanks Sis,” Lyra said. Beth could hear the little break in her sister’s voice and she worried that she wasn’t going to like what Lyra had to tell her.
“Are you sure this can wait for lunch or do we need to move it up to a breakfast date?” Beth questioned.
“No, I can’t make breakfast. I have to take Delilah to school and then I’ll be free to meet you. She’s so far behind with being sick, she can’t miss any more time or they won’t let her move up with the rest of the kids in her grade.”
Her sister had gotten pregnant with Lil when she was just a kid herself—only nineteen. She tried to help with her niece as much as she could, but Beth knew she wasn’t much help. Lil’s dad was still in the picture. Zane and Lyra were high school sweethearts and after graduation, they got a place together. For a while, Beth thought that they were going to actually make it work. She and Lyra didn’t really have much in the way of marriage role models in their parents, but she thought her sister and Zane really had a chance. That was until Lyra ended up unexpectedly pregnant. It was also about the time they started fighting and by the time Delilah was born, they had split up. Lyra and Zane shared custody and Beth was damn proud of her little sister for making things work for the three of them. Lil was one of the most well-adjusted kids she knew and that was a credit to both Lyra and Zane and the way they worked together to be the best parents they could be for her.
“She’s only six, Lyra,” Beth said. “Maybe letting her stay back a year wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Let her have a re-do of first grade and take some of the pressure off both of you.”
Lyra’s laugh sounded through the phone and Beth knew immediately that she had said the wrong thing. “You just don’t understand,” Lyra chided. “Wait until you have a kid of your own and then tell me it’s a good idea to hold him or her back.”
“Okay, I get it,” Elizabeth said. “I’m not a mom and you are. Do you want to meet for lunch or do you want to sit here and tell me how I’m failing as a human being?”
Lyra sighed into the phone. “I’m sorry, Beth,” she said. “I’ve just been having a shit time of things and I’m taking it out on the wrong person. Forgive me?”
Elizabeth smiled. “Forgiven,” she said. “Just text me where and when for lunch. I need to wash my paint brushes and take a quick shower and then I’m all yours.”
“Thanks, Beth,” Lyra whispered and hung up. Yeah, she definitely needed to get to the bottom of what was going on with her sister. Beth worried that she might not be able to help Lyra, but she could do the next best thing and listen to her.
Reaper
Reaper pushed his motorcycle to the side of the road and fought the urge to toss it to the ground. The hunk of shit never got him to where he needed to be and right now, he needed to make his meeting or risk his business partner finding out that he was the one selling him out to the Feds. He knew he was taking a huge risk but what choice did he have? His partner was holding his little sister and Reaper needed to take over his father’s half of the business, or risk losing Sophie forever and he couldn’t let that happen. He promised his mother, on her deathbed that he’d pick up where his father left things and keep Sophie safe. The latter was proving to be difficult since his younger sister seemed to find trouble without even searching for it. She was like a magnet for bad boys, enjoying the attention they gave her. At first, he didn’t say anything since most of the guys his sister hooked up with were friends from work. Who was he to judge his little sister? Reaper had seen and done much worse, but now they were holding her against her will and he had no choice but to step in and make things right.
Sophie had gotten involved with his business partner’s son, Anthony Jr. Everyone called him Ringer since he was a dead ringer for his old man. He not only looked like his father, but he was being groomed to take over the business after his dad gave it up. With the way things were going, Reaper had a feeling that might never happen. Ringer had a way of fucking things up and now, Anthony Sr. had sent Reaper in to clean up his son’s mess and bring Sophie home. Although, if he had to guess, that last part was less important to his business partner than it was to him.
Ringer had taken Sophie and left town a little over a week ago and Reaper had been chasing down leads for days. Today’s appointment was the first real prospect he had and it happened to be with a man who could not only save his sister, but also help him bring down Anthony Sr.’s whole crooked organization. His father would roll over in his grave if he knew what his business partner had done to the little clothing manufacturing company that they had started together over thirty years ago. Anthony Sr. didn’t even try to hide the fact from Reaper that he was running a trafficking ring on the side. Reaper was never treated like a partner after his dad died. Sure, he walked away from the company and even told Anthony Sr. that it was all his, but they both knew that wouldn’t stand up in court.
Reaper had taken a year off and even found a quaint seaside town that he called home. He imagined staying there forever, but then Sophie called and said that their mother had taken a turn for the worse. He had no choice but to pack up his dreams of living by the ocean and head back home to an overcrowded city, filled with too many ghosts and reminders of every one of his failures.
His mother begged him to pick up where his father had left off and find a way to get back in with Anthony Sr. He reluctantly agreed and his father’s old partner hadn’t made it easy on Reaper to come back into the company. Reaper agreed to a lesser cut of the business, technically making Anthony Sr. his boss. That was a hard pill to swallow but he had no choice, really. When he suspected that Ringer and Sophie had been hooking up, Reaper warned her to steer clear of him, but she refused to listen to reason. Anthony Sr. told him that Sophie would be safe as long as Reaper kept his head down and his nose out of his business. At the time, it seemed like a no brainer—he’d keep his promise to his mother, be able to keep an eye on his crazy little sister and earn a paycheck to boot. Everything seemed good until it wasn’t.
Reaper started noticing little things that eventually clued him into Anthony Sr.’s dirty business dealings. The extra set of books, the large amounts of cash stashed in the safe and too many secret meetings between the higher ups in the company and people Reaper knew to be shady businessmen. By the time he put it all together, that Anthony Sr. was running a human trafficking ring, it was too late. Reaper’s name was on everything and his boss had made sure that if he went down, Reaper was going down with him and Sophie would be collateral damage.
He had worked to find an out for both his sister and him and today was the day that might have happened. Now, he was stuck on the side of the road with his crap piece of hunk metal that looked like a motorcycle.
“Shit,” he growled, kicking the bike’s tire for good measure. “Now what?” He knew he sounded like a crazy person talking to himself but at this point, who gave a fuck? He was on a stretch of road that didn’t get much traffic and Reaper knew he’d be lucky if someone happened to pass by in the next hour. Hell, he’d be lucky if someone passed by in the next day and now, he’d never make his meeting. He pulled his cell from his jeans and cursed when he realized he had no signal.
“Fucking perfect,” he grumbled. He sat down
on the side of the road, finding a good sized bolder to perch on. He had no water, no food, and no cell service and was too pissed off to think straight.
“I need help,” he yelled out into the air, as if sending a plea into the universe would help him. No one was listening and Reaper knew that better than anyone. No one was coming to save him and if he wanted to be rescued, he’d have to do it himself. It was a hard lesson and unfortunately, one he had to learn firsthand.
He wanted to laugh at the irony of his thoughts—comparing being broken down on the side of a highway, to being kidnapped when he was just fourteen years old. Even back then, he knew the score. No one was coming for him; his kidnapper had told him that. Reaper knew that if he wanted his freedom, he’d have to do whatever it took to find it—and he had. He had to do things that most people would never be able to imagine, but he did them to survive and break free from the man who held him for almost a year. He fought to stay alive and when he saw his chance to escape, he took it. He had nothing else to lose; everything had already been taken from him at that point—his hope, his dignity and he was slowly losing his mind. He had survived though and Reaper thought that was all that mattered. Well, until the nightmares started.
His parents had sent him to specialists and doctors, trying to stop the dreams and the panic that followed but no one seemed able to help him. He loved his parents, but he knew he could never tell them what he had been through—not all of it. It would have destroyed them both to know what he had to do to make it through that ordeal but he’d do it all over again if it meant his freedom. He owed no one apologies for what he had done and he was determined to give none. The ordeal might have ended, but the shame and guilt stayed with him, no matter how many times he told himself that he had nothing to feel guilty over.
Reaper blamed his mother for years. He knew that was transference of blame, or at least that was what his therapist told his parents when she thought he wasn’t listening. His mother was supposed to pick him up at school after his soccer practice but she never showed. She had forgotten to pick him up and when he finally realized that, he started to walk home. It was just about dark when the strange car approached him. Reaper was only one mile from home—one more mile and he would have had a whole different life. One more mile and he wouldn’t have had to go through hell, but he had.