Ridin' Solo (Sisters From Hell Book 1) Marika Ray (book recommendations .txt) 📖

Ridin’ Solo

Sisters From Hell #1

Marika Ray

Marika Ray Publishing

Contents

Ridin’ Solo

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

Also by Marika Ray

About the Author

RIDIN' SOLO

Copyright © 2021 by Marika Ray

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

First Edition: April 8, 2021

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

Cover Model: Ben Shook

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-950141-28-9

Print ISBN: 978-1-950141-31-9

Ridin’ Solo

A cop with a shady past falls for his boss, the straight-laced captain of his department.

At a measly five foot three, Captain Oakley Waldo seemed just fine riding solo at work and in her personal life. But when I accidentally burst in on her in a, shall we say, compromising position, she’ll have to work double time to keep the tension between us at a low simmer.

My mission as her new partner? To bring out the wild woman I know is there underneath the starched uniform. Only problem is, she seems dead set on discovering the past I vowed to keep hidden away.

With stolen moments of forbidden passion in between arrests, creative uses for those handcuffs, and four meddling sisters who won’t butt out of Oakley’s life, this law enforcement partnership is set to explode!

1

Oakley

Wasn’t every day you attempted to arrest a guy in jorts and a backward baseball cap with Jason Derulo lyrics running through your brain. For the pure spirits and innocent minds, jorts were jeans cut off as long shorts, worn by men who had zero fashion sense. Today must have been my lucky day. Not only was I riding solo still, but I had the great honor of arresting Jeremiah Singleton for the twelfth time in as many days.

“Jeremiah, step away from that door.”

His head swiveled in my direction and the rest of him listed a bit too far left to make me think he was sober. His face crumpled into full-blown tantrum mode, which could compete with my youngest sister, Ulva, affectionately called Vee. Because who the hell would want to go around with the name Ulva? Can you imagine the jokes at school? As the baby of the family, Vee could really put on a performance. Clearly Jeremiah here thought I was born yesterday.

“Come on, Waldo,” he groaned. “I’m jest here to make sure she got my text. She could be bleeding out behind that there door and wouldn’t you feel real guilty for interrupting me bein’ a good Samurai?”

Now it was my turn to frown. I rested a hand on my billy club and rocked back on my heels. Normally, domestic violence calls were taken seriously, and I’d be more prepared for things to turn violent. However, this was the backwoods of Monterey County and I’d known Jeremiah since he cheated in dodgeball in elementary school.

“Do you mean good Samaritan?” I asked dryly.

He nodded vigorously, and I worried his baggy jorts might take the jostling as a sign to slide further down his nonexistent ass. What was with these guys who only lifted upper body? Didn’t they know the ladies appreciated a well-toned lower body? Don’t skip leg day, fellas.

“Dat’s right.” Jeremiah smiled and spun back to knock on his ex’s door.

An ex who had a restraining order out on him.

He may seem harmless to me—annoying for sure, but not particularly dangerous—but it wasn’t for me to decide. The law was the law. He’d violated that restraining order by stepping foot on her property. I grabbed the handcuffs out of the back of my utility belt and climbed the stairs of the porch.

“You know you shouldn’t be here, Jeremiah. I’m going to have to take you in again.” I grabbed one beefy wrist of his and slapped the cuffs on him.

The sound of the metal teeth closing made him jump into action. Getting the first wrist cuffed was always the easiest. It was the second one, when the suspect dropped all pretense of being nice and realized things would not turn out in their favor, that was the hardest. Jeremiah used his bulk to spin around quickly, taking all five foot three of me with him.

In this moment I truly wished I wasn’t riding solo and had a partner to help me out. Hence the Jason Derulo lyrics running through my brain.

Thankfully, I’d taken years of Jiu Jitsu lessons. Dad hadn’t let us girls go through life without some countermeasures to make sure we’d be safe out there in the real world, where fifty percent of the population proved bigger and stronger than us.

So what do you do when you’re up against someone stronger? You use their bulk and momentum against them. He spun, I put a foot out to trip him up. He went down like a redwood. As he flailed, stunned at his new horizontal position, I got the other wrist in the cuffs. I gave him a tug, but he looked like he preferred to camp out here all night.

I rolled my eyes heavenward and asked for patience. This was my last call of the night and then I’d be off. “Could you stand up for me, please?” I asked in my nicest, yet stern voice.

“Nah, I’mma stay right here with my lady love.” Jeremiah gave me a smile, ruined because his mouth smashed into the wood planks beneath him.

I looked around at the darkening trees surrounding the property, the sounds of the night animals starting to make themselves known. “Going to be a cold one tonight. It may technically be spring, but it’s still freezing out here overnight and you have no shirt. I’d