LOGINIn the heart of a city ruled by chaos, Armando Romos stands as the ruthless leader of the Demented Devils MC. Known for his fierce loyalty and unyielding power, he thrives in a world where weakness is a sin. But everything changes when a sudden ambush leaves him bleeding in a park, a bullet wound signaling an unexpected turn in his tumultuous life. Maya Connor, a compassionate nurse seeking a moment of peace, stumbles upon Armando's crumpled form. Initially, Armando's pride and fierce independence resist her offer of help; he's a man used to being in control, not relying on anyone. Yet as the blood pools around him, desperation forces him to confront his mortality and the bitter betrayal that led him here. With no choice but to surrender to Maya's care, he discovers that she sees beyond the ink and anger etched on his skin. As she tends to his wounds, a spark ignites between them, bridging the divide between their worlds-a world of violence and a realm of healing. Caught between the violent loyalty of the Demented Devils and a burgeoning passion for the woman who saved him, Armando must face his past and make a choice: embrace the chance for redemption with Maya or be dragged back into the darkness that claims so many.
View MoreThe wind howled, cold and furious, as it whipped across my cheeks with a relentless speed. I flung my purse onto the seat of my old, beat-up 2005 Camry and shoved the keys into the ignition with such force that I feared they might snap off in the keyhole. Anger boiled inside me at the thought of Barbra getting the promotion instead of me. I had worked my ass off for months, sacrificing my free time and dedicating myself to the patients who came in every night just to prove to Marco that I was ready. And yet, here I was, watching someone else take the opportunity I deserved.
Screw this... I cranked the engine, and it barely started, the battery in desperate need of replacement—something I couldn't afford. As usual, I could barely scrape together enough for gas for this piece of junk, and now I was facing the prospect of a new battery too. Interning never pays well, but what was I expecting? A job? I rolled my eyes as I clicked on the left turn signal, steering toward my rundown apartment downtown. Most likely, the water would be turned off again, and I'd be without cable. I briefly considered splurging on a hotel where at least the water would be included in the stay, but that would require money I simply didn't have. Instead, I clicked on the right blinker and headed to Otto's—a tiny one-window shop known for making the best hamburgers in the city. At least, that's my personal opinion. Sure, the amount of oil he uses on the patties might raise some eyebrows, but the flavor is undeniably worth the trip. I parked my Camry next to Otto's blue pickup truck, an older model that he had fixed up himself, and rounded the corner to find the trailer empty. At this time of night, it was always quiet, except for Otto and his wife, Jackie. Jackie, always wearing a hairnet, had a white work uniform that was mostly covered in grease. Her bronze skin glistened from the condensation that lingered in the trailer. "There's my favorite customer of the night," Otto said, leaning over the small window. His burly arms were covered in hair, and he wore a Dodger hat turned backward, paired with the same uniform as Jackie. "I'm right on time," I replied, adding a hint of sarcasm as I leaned up to check the menu, even though I already knew what I wanted: fries and a classic hamburger—no tomatoes. "Just in time! I saved you the last burger." Otto pulled out a greasy white bag with my name scrawled on the front. "You didn't have to do that. What if I hadn't shown up?" I replied, reaching into my purse and gripping the only bill I had left—my last resort before begging my mother for more money. She always advised me to find a job that pays better, but nursing would pay off someday... "If you're hungry, you show up. And lately, you've been showing up like a rat looking for leftovers," Otto said with a small chuckle as he handed me the bag. "This is on me tonight; keep the money for something you need." I sighed and shook my head. "No, please..." But Otto was insistent, closing the window on purpose. "Keep it, Maya!" he yelled from behind the closed glass. I hugged the bag close as I retreated to my car, letting the warm, greasy aroma swirl around me like a sweet perfume. With the bag settled on the passenger seat, I turned the engine over and pulled out of the parking lot, the steering wheel guiding me effortlessly. I knew exactly where I wanted to go—somewhere I loved that I was sure would be deserted tonight. Going back to my apartment wasn't an option, especially since the water was still out. I cruised down the main highway, letting Pink take over the radio. The night air was pleasantly breezy, but my thoughts were consumed by Barbra. I couldn't shake the image of how she had weaseled her way into Marco's office, offering herself up on a platter. It was no secret that something was brewing between her and the manager; she always dressed in a way that invited his gaze, buttoned-down shirts that often revealed too much. I'd seen him adjust himself whenever she pranced into the office, looking like a misguided love child in leggings and librarian glasses, her dark wavy hair styled in a thick braid reminiscent of a Britney Spears music video. It sickened me to think that society seemed to value looks over qualifications when it came to jobs. Here I was in my scrubs, my blond hair pulled into a tight ponytail, with no cleavage to show. I knew that being just an intern, fresh out of graduate school, wouldn't be easy. But Barbra had graduated from the same school; the only difference was that her curves had opened doors for her that were still closed to me. As I hit the exit on the freeway, I slowed to a stop at the buzzing red light. I reached into the bag of food and pulled out a few fries, savoring the greasy satisfaction they provided. It had been since breakfast since I'd eaten anything, and my hand instinctively dove back into the bag as I waited for the light to change. When it finally did, I turned left, heading towards the park that felt like my safe haven. I tied the bag closed, anticipating more bites. At the rate I was going, I was down to less than half a bag of fries. Upon reaching the park entrance, I noticed the gate faintly illuminated. The trees loomed in the distance, their leaves shimmering under my headlights. I slowed the car and quickly turned onto a dark gravel road that ran alongside the river. The crunch of gravel under my tires accompanied the soft glow of my lights as they drifted towards a large oak tree in the distance. Once I spotted it, I knew I had arrived at my spot by the river. It was beautiful during the day—the river flowed gracefully, and the trees exuded a sense of tranquility. But tonight, everything felt different, even a little frightening. Usually, when I visit at night, it's quiet, occasionally interrupted by the sounds of wildlife. Yet tonight, as I rolled down my window and listened to the wild night, all I could hear was the gentle flow of the water and the cool night air whispering into the car. My hand wrapped around the bag holding my burger, fingers gripping the meaty delight as I brought it to my mouth, savoring the greasy juiciness that dribbled down my chin. My stomach grumbled in anticipation, welcoming the indulgence that slid down my throat. I chewed absentmindedly, only lifting my gaze to glance at the river when I noticed a single headlight lingering across the water. As I continued eating, another pair of lights appeared behind the first, which had now shut off, illuminated by the moonlight cascading over a pair of legs planted firmly on a motorcycle. Instinctively, I ducked down in my seat, setting the burger on its wrapper and gently wiping my mouth. Juicy gossip had been scarce for too long. Could it be lovers sneaking away to the park? I squirmed in my seat as I watched a group of people approach the motorcyclist. They scanned the area, their eyes casually passing over my car, parked discreetly under the trees. I let out a sigh of relief and refocused on them while I nibbled on a fry. As I sat frozen in my car, the moon cast long shadows across the park. My heart raced as I watched one of the men in the group pull out a metallic object that glinted ominously in the fading light. It took a moment for my brain to register it—a gun. My breath hitched in my throat, panic clawing at my chest. He leveled the weapon at the man on the motorcycle, who stood there with his hands raised, terror etched across his face. Time seemed to stretch, every second stretching into eternity as silence enveloped the park, a thick blanket of dread. My fingers trembled against the steering wheel, each pulse echoing in my ears. Then, without warning—BANG! The shot thundered, shattering the eerie quiet. The biker collapsed, crumpling to the ground like a broken marionette, the sound of his body hitting the earth swallowed by the chaos unfurling around us. I gasped, my fry bag slipping from my grip and tumbling to the floor like my resolve. A whirlwind of movement erupted as the men swarmed the fallen biker. They kicked his lifeless form, snarling insults as they tossed his motorcycle into the river, splashes sending ripples across the surface. One of them spat on him, the act carrying a sickening finality. Before I could process what was happening, they jumped into their car, tires screeching as they peeled away, leaving only echoes of violence behind. My heart raced, panic flooding my senses. Calling the cops would be the logical choice, but what if I didn't? What if he lay there dying? Caught between a visceral instinct to flee and the oath I took as a nurse—to help the helpless—I felt the recklessness surge within me. I shifted the gear into drive, the engine roaring to life beneath me. Every part of me screamed it was a terrible idea, but I couldn't turn away. He needed me, and my heart wouldn't let me abandon him.The world blurred as they dragged me through the trees.Branches tore at my arms.My feet bled.My breath came in sharp, broken gasps.I didn’t know where I was.I didn’t know how long I’d been running.I didn’t know if Armando was alive.But I knew one thing:Reaper was close.I could feel him behind me — not touching me, not speaking, just there, like a shadow stitched to my spine.“Keep moving,” one of his men hissed.I stumbled. Fell. Hit the ground hard.A hand grabbed my hair, yanking me upright.I screamed.Reaper’s voice cut through the dark.“Enough.”The hand released me instantly.I collapsed to my knees, shaking, sobbing, unable to breathe.Reaper crouched in front of me, brushing dirt from my cheek like he was wiping away tears.“You’re almost home,” he whispered.I shook my head violently. “No—no—please—”He smiled.“You’ll understand soon.”A gunshot cracked through the trees.Then another.Then a scream.Reaper’s smile faded.He stood slowly.“He’s here.”My heart stop
Reaper’s words hit me like a bullet.“She’s with Demetri.”For a second, the world went silent.Not quiet.Silent.Like sound itself had been ripped out of the air.Armando froze.Torres stiffened.Reaper smiled like he’d just dropped a match into a room full of gasoline.And me?I couldn’t breathe.Not because it was true.Not because it wasn’t.But because Reaper knew exactly where to aim.He didn’t want to break Armando.He wanted to break us.I forced myself to inhale, my ribs screaming, my vision blurring at the edges. I stepped forward, ignoring the pain, ignoring the blood soaking through my shirt.“Armando,” I said quietly.He didn’t turn.“Armando,” I repeated, louder this time.Still nothing.He was staring at Reaper like he was deciding whether to kill him or tear him apart with his bare hands.I stepped between them.Armando’s eyes snapped to mine — wild, furious, wounded.“Demetri,” he growled, “move.”“No.”His jaw clenched. “Move.”“I’m not moving.”Reaper chuckled behi
Pain dragged me back to consciousness.Not slowly.Not gently.Like being yanked out of a grave.My ribs burned.My head throbbed.My throat tasted like blood and smoke.For a second, I didn’t know where I was.Then I heard Torres shouting orders.Heard men scrambling.Heard Demetri groaning somewhere behind me.And it all came back.The breach.The smoke.The fight.Maya’s scream.Her being dragged away.Reaper stepping between us.Her fingers slipping from the floor.Her voice breaking as she screamed my name.My eyes snapped open.“MAYA—!”I tried to stand.My body didn’t cooperate.Pain shot through my side, white‑hot and blinding. I collapsed to my knees, gasping, gripping the dirt so hard it crumbled between my fingers.Torres rushed to my side. “Boss—boss—stop—your ribs—”“Where is she?” I rasped.He hesitated.Wrong answer.I grabbed his vest and yanked him close, ignoring the pain tearing through my body.“WHERE. IS. SHE.”His jaw clenched. “They took her.”I shoved him away
Darkness swallowed me whole.Not the kind you see — the kind you feel.Thick. Heavy. Suffocating.My ears rang from the explosion. My cheek burned where someone hit me. My wrists throbbed from the zip ties cutting into my skin. My lungs couldn’t catch a full breath.The truck jolted, throwing me sideways. A hand shoved me back upright.“Sit still,” a voice growled behind me.I couldn’t.I couldn’t stop shaking.I couldn’t stop crying.I couldn’t stop hearing Armando screaming my name.I pressed my forehead to my knees, trying to breathe, trying to think, trying to understand how everything had gone so wrong so fast.The truck hit a bump. My shoulder slammed into metal. Pain shot down my arm.“Please,” I whispered. “Please don’t hurt me.”A laugh. Cold. Amused.“No one’s hurting you,” the man said. “Not unless he says so.”He.Reaper.My stomach twisted so violently I thought I’d be sick.I lifted my head, blinking through tears and darkness. The truck had no windows. Just metal walls.






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