Reapers and Bastards Anthology Read Online Joanna Wylde (Reapers MC, #4.5)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Biker, Contemporary, Dark, Drama, Erotic, MC, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Reapers MC Series by Joanna Wylde
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Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 42549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 213(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
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“Wish I had an answer for you,” he finally said. “It’s a fucked up situation and I got no idea what happens next.”

That caught me off guard, because it was so honest. Whenever I managed to corner Loni, she’d just tell me that everything would be okay, and that she’d take care of me. Reese said to calm down, that it would all work out.

Hearing the truth was scary, but refreshing, too.

“Thanks,” I blurted out.

“For what?” he asked.

“For being honest. Everyone is telling me that things are fine, but they aren’t. I’ve got no home, no family to help me, no transportation and if I don’t find a way to get to work soon, I’ll lose my job. Not that I’d even know if I got fired, because my phone blew up with the rest of the house. And I’ve probably got a bazillion dollars in medical bills, too. It is a fucked up situation, so why is everyone pretending it’s not?”

He seemed startled by my sudden burst of speech, which I could understand. I’d startled me, too.

“You know, the house probably wasn’t your fault,” he said slowly. I shook my head, wishing it was true.

“I think I left the gas burner turned on after I made my macaroni and cheese,” I admitted. “What else could’ve caused it?”

“Melanie, leaving on a burner for a couple hours doesn’t blow up a house,” he told me, the words gentle. “I mean, it’s not something you want to go around doing, but whatever happened, it was because of something bigger than you cooking macaroni. It’s not your fault. And Loni’s insurance will probably cover your medical bills, too.”

“I really hope that’s true about the house,” I said, although I knew in my gut it wasn’t. I’d caught a whiff of gas earlier that evening and had meant to investigate. Instead I’d gotten distracted thinking about my mom. “And I guess the medical bills don’t really matter anyway. Not like they can collect.”

He nodded, reaching for the beer he’d grabbed from the fridge earlier. Taking a long drink, he glanced toward the living room, where I could hear Puck rummaging around.

“You don’t have to watch a movie with us if you don’t want to,” he said quietly. “You can go upstairs and rest.”

“I’ll watch it,” I insisted, and not just because I wanted to spend more time with him. I’d had my fill of rest over the past two days. Just having another human being around to talk to was a relief—the fact that he was a super sexy human made it that much better. “Here, let me get your plate.”

“No, that’s all right, I’ll take it,” he said, so we carried the dishes into the kitchen together. He stood and watched while I loaded the dishwasher. Every time I passed him, I caught his scent. Leather and something strange . . . like paint thinner.

“Is Painter your real name?” I asked, avoiding his eyes.

“Nope, my real name is Levi Brooks,” he said. “But I like to paint, and most guys in the club use a road name, so there you have it.”

“Like, paint houses?”

He laughed. “No, pictures. I’m into art.”

That surprised me. It must’ve shown on my face, because he gave another low chuckle. “Let me guess, you assumed bikers aren’t sophisticated enough to appreciate art?”

I coughed, looking away. I’d be damned if I’d answer.

“You’re cute when you blush,” he said, reaching over to catch a lock of my hair, tugging on it gently. He called me cute! My heart stopped for an instant, and it was hard to follow the rest of his words. “And yeah, I like art. I do a lot of the custom work down at the body shop. All the gold on my Harley is my own, too. Sometimes I do bigger projects. Usually painting on boards for customers who want portraits of their bikes, believe it or not.”

“Wow,” I said. God, he was so out of my league—hot and talented.

“What about you?” he asked. “What do you do?”

“Well, right now I’m waiting tables,” I told him, wishing I had a more interesting job. “But I’m starting school in the fall, at North Idaho College. And once I get all my prerequisites done, I’m going to study nursing. I like taking care of people.”

“Yeah, I can see that. You’re friends with Jessica, right? London’s niece?”

I nodded.

“You take care of her a lot?” I shrugged, because I took care of her all the time, but he didn’t need to know that. At least, I’d taken care of her until she’d run off to California to live with her mom. She’d been super pissed at London for dragging her out of a party at the Reapers clubhouse, which was my fault in a way.

I was the one who ratted her out.



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