REAPER: GOLDEN SKULLS M.C. Rebecca Joyce (romantic story to read .txt) 📖

in a world with so many people. I remember Max being strong and determined, not lost. I wondered if something happened. Worried for him, I tightened my fingers around his and opened my eyes. “I would love to ride with you, Max.”

He had changed so much. Taller, muscular, hell, his muscles had muscles, and every part I could see was adorned with tattoos, well, not his face. He had a handsome face—sharp nose, strong chin, full lips, and eyes that captured mine. Sparkling blue, light almost gray as if a storm were brewing in them. They were hypnotic.

For years I dreamt about Max and the courage he gave me to fight harder. I tried to fight with all my might for a long time, but eventually, the best fighters get beat.

That’s what happened to me. When I saw who took me and what he was going to do, something in me broke. I was tired of fighting. I just couldn’t. Then, when they thought they broke me, I found a way to escape, and I did.

“Remi, are you feeling okay?” Max asked, his hand gently touching my swollen eye. I still couldn’t see well out of it. Everything was still blurry, but at least I could open it now. My body still hurt everywhere, and it was still hard to breathe, but anything was better than what would have happened if I didn’t escape. Trying not to think about that, I looked at Max and gave him a smile.

“Just sore. I’ll heal.”

“I was so worried. When you arrived, I didn’t know it was you, but then you said my name, and everything clicked. I’m so sorry I said the things I said. Please forgive me. I would never intentionally hurt you.”

There was something off about Max. I could tell by the tone of his voice. He wasn’t the strong boy I remembered. He was broken, beat down, his confidence waning. He was fighting something profound, and it was winning. Gone was the sweet boy I remembered, only to be replaced with the shell of a man before me. His eyes gave him away. Where there was once life, now I only saw death.

“Max,” I smiled. “It wasn’t like you knew I was coming. Plus, I imagine I looked horrible and still do. What matters is you figured out it was me and helped me, like I knew you would.”

“How did you know to come here?”

“You told me too.”

“I did?”

“Yeah. When we said goodbye all those years ago, you said if I ever need help to find the Golden Skulls. I remembered the stories you told me about your family and your dad being the President. Even Uncle Peter said to call if I needed help. So, I looked you up. Found out you were in California, and when I got free, I hitched a ride with a nice trucker named Tom, and he brought me here.”

“You remembered my stories?”

“I remember everything you said to me.”

“Remi, where were you?”

“Louisiana.”

“You hitched all the way from Louisiana?”

“Yeah,” I whispered, looking away. “It was either that, or they would find me again. I can’t go back, Max. I just can’t.”

Just thinking about my time there made my skin crawl. The depravity and degradation I endured like so many others. Where I was alive, most were not, and those who did survive were gone forever. They became lost children of the night. Sold and abused until they were no longer wanted anymore. There was no help for them, only death, and it would have been the same for me until I escaped.

“It’s okay, Remi. You’re never going back there again.”

“Promise?”

Max smiled and held up his pinky, “I pinky promise.”

I laughed.

Oh God, it felt so good to really laugh, but damn, it hurt too.

“There is someone impatiently waiting to see you. Want me to get him?”

“Is it Uncle Peter?” I smiled excitedly. I really missed the big biker and his sweetness. While everyone around him seemed to fear him, all I remembered was the big, sweet teddy bear who read to me and watched Princess movies. Uncle Peter was one of the nicest men I’d ever known, and I loved him dearly.

Max chuckled. “Just wait a sec.” Getting to his feet, I watched as Max opened the door and nodded to someone in the hallway. My heart was racing. I hoped it was Uncle Peter. Oh, how I really wanted it to be him. Then, before I couldn’t take the suspense any longer, in walked the man I wanted next to Max.

“Hey, Princess.”

“Uncle Peter,” I sobbed as he came over to me, leaned down, wrapped his arms around me while I cried. It had been so long since I’d been comforted by his strong arms.

I was finally safe.

“Now now. Let’s have none of that. Your safe now, and we ain’t never lettin’ ya go. Are we Reaper?”

“Never.”

“You’re ours now Princess, and we take care of our own. Always.”

Over the next couple of hours, we all talked about everything, from how Hellhound crashed his bike to Max’s dad passing away. I was sad to hear that. I learned that was when Max became the new President. I also knew that the Golden Skulls was the largest motorcycle club on the West Coast, and they had chapters in almost every state. The club itself was big, and many of the chapters were big into different charities. When I asked about this club, both Max and Uncle Peter seemed to shut down but eventually nodded, saying that they took care of those who couldn’t.

I thought it was cryptic but didn’t pry. However, when they both started asking questions about me, well, I glossed over most of it. It wasn’t that I didn’t want them to know. It was just that I didn’t know how to begin. How do I start my story? It all started when my father molested me at the age of four. He then sold me when I turned eight, and when I was returned to