Semua Bab Reaper's Ride: A Dark Biker Romance : Bab 1 - Bab 10

SarahThe concrete floor was ice beneath my bare feet, each cold press a stark reminder of where I was. I didn’t dare ask for shoes. Not here. Not now. I’d learned that asking meant drawing attention—attention that usually ended badly, quickly. So, I kept my eyes fixed on the cracked, stained floor, willing myself to disappear, to shrink into the shadows until I was nothing more than dust.The back room of the clubhouse smelled like stale smoke and lost chances, a bitter cocktail of fear and desperation. Cigarette smoke clung heavy, thick as fog, wrapping around the peeling, grease-stained walls and the battered, sticky-topped table in the center. The sharp clink of bottles echoed through the room, followed by raucous laughter from men whose faces seemed carved out of chaos and sin. Their eyes, hard and indifferent, barely registered my presence, yet I felt them, like insects crawling on my skin. Every scar and faded tattoo on their brawny arms told a story of battles fought and rules

SarahThe night didn’t bring sleep. It brought memories — clawing, suffocating ones that twisted in my gut. I curled up in the farthest corner of the room, watching the door, every creak and shadow a potential threat. The worn leather jacket he gave me lay draped over my legs, his scent—smoke, leather, and something uniquely masculine—wrapped around me like a ghost I didn’t know how to name. I hadn’t taken it off since he threw it at me like I was some stray dog he didn’t want to freeze.And still… I clung to it.The walls were silent, a deceptive quiet that screamed with unseen dangers. Silence never meant safety. It just meant whatever was coming hadn’t shown its teeth yet.I didn’t know what to make of Jax. No—Reaper. The name clung to him like blood, dark and inescapable. He wasn’t like the men I knew, the ones who took and broke and left nothing but wreckage. And that made him even more dangerous, because I couldn't predict him. There was a line in his eyes—hard and jagged, a con

Sarah's Pov I stood in the quiet of Jax’s house, my fingers trembling as they brushed against the hollow at my throat.My pendant.It was gone.Panic spiked through me, sharp and cold. I patted my collarbone, my chest, even the pocket of my worn jeans, hoping, praying it had somehow slipped inside. But it was nowhere.*No. No, no, no.*That pendant was everything. The only thing I’d managed to hold onto from my mother. A small silver disk, worn with age, etched with a design I used to trace as a child whenever I felt scared. And now — now it was gone.My mind raced. *Where did I last see it? When did I last feel the weight of it against my skin?Had I lost it during the chaos at the clubhouse? When Jax had pulled me away from those leering eyes and dragging hands? Or had it slipped off in the night, tangled in the sheets of a bed that wasn’t mine?A wave of nausea rolled through me. *Damn it.*I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to push back the gnawing sense of dread that had no

(Sarah’s POV)The cold night air burned in Sarah’s lungs, a raw, desperate gasp for a freedom she could taste but couldn't quite reach. The small bag she clutched to her chest was pitiful – a meager collection of clothes, a wad of crumpled bills she’d snatched from Caleb’s secret stash. It wasn’t much, but it represented everything: a sliver of hope, a desperate bid for a life that wasn't dictated by the click of a gun or the slam of a fist. Freedom. The word echoed in her mind, a sweet, impossible whisper.But freedom, she now knew, had a terrifying sound.It was the guttural roar of a motorcycle engine, suddenly too close, too powerful.It was the sickening screech of tires on gravel, cutting through the silence of the house.And then, worst of all, it was Caleb’s voice, low and deadly, slithering from the shadows behind her. “You ungrateful bitch.”Sarah froze, her muscles locking in terror. A second, perhaps two, stretched into an eternity. He snatched her from behind, yanking h

Sarah's Pov The night swallowed Sarah whole. Every desperate breath burned in her lungs.Her choice felt like a physical weight, chaining her to the cracked earth beneath her bare feet. This wasn't just walking; it was a surrender.The humid air, thick with the pervasive stench of gasoline, stale sweat, and old sins, seemed to cling to her skin. It was a perfect path to hell, and she walked it willingly.She knew the place. The Viper's Den. A Vulture dive on the city's outskirts, where the streetlights died and laws followed suit. The neon sign above the entrance hung crooked, its few remaining tubes flickering erratically. It dared not stay lit too long, too afraid to truly reveal the depravity within.This was where she’d heard Caleb’s men congregate, a lair for the very monsters she sought to escape. And now, she walked straight into it.Sarah's hands, clammy with a cold sweat that had nothing to do with the night's chill, shook uncontrollably as she reached for the heavy, rusted