Rome’s Chance Read Online Joanna Wylde (Reapers MC #6.6)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Erotic, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Reapers MC Series by Joanna Wylde
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Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
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I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I hugged her harder. We stood like that for long seconds, then finally I pulled away.

“I need to get going. I don’t want to be late.”

My mother smiled at me.

“Hey, if anyone gives you shit about that black eye, tell ’em to fuck off,” she said. “Then send them to me. I’ll kick their asses.”

With that, she reached for her glass, giving me a quick salute before polishing it off with one swallow.

The reunion was a blast, even if it was sort of small.

There’d only been forty-eight kids in our graduating class, total. Of those, maybe twenty-five had come back. Nowhere near enough to rent a big hotel ballroom or anything, which worked out fine because Hallies Falls didn’t have any real hotels.

We’d taken over the upper floor of the Eagles Lodge for the night, instead. It wasn’t particularly special, just a small stage, a dance floor, and some banquet tables. They’d done a good job decorating, though, and the drinks were cheap. Mark Barron, our senior class president, served as DJ. It was just like being in high school again, except all the social barriers that’d been so important back then were gone.

Everyone was friendly, and in the mood to have a good time.

Still, I’d felt self-conscious about my eye at first. Especially after I’d caught several people sneaking looks. Nobody said anything, though. That might’ve been because Peaches—who was also rolling single for the night—seemed to have decided I needed a guard dog. She’d attached herself to my side early on, as if we were long lost friends reunited.

This was funny, because we hadn’t been close at all, growing up. Maybe she felt responsible because I’d gotten hurt at her bar. Or maybe she was just a nice person. Whatever her reason, I was discovering that Peaches Taylor was a hell of a lot of fun. I wished I’d known her better during school, but we hadn’t been the same kind. While she’d been cheerleading, I’d been volunteering in the school library.

None of that mattered tonight.

Everyone was laughing and dancing and having a good time. Most of us had been in school together for the full twelve years, and it was fun to learn what happened to all these people I’d known as children, then as awkward young adults. With Peaches at my side, I found myself letting go in a way I’d never been able to back then.

By midnight, I’d lost my shoes and my voice was hoarse from singing along while dancing. That’s when Peaches announced—loudly—that she needed to pee like a Russian race horse right as a song ended. The whole room fell silent and my stomach clenched for her. Then Peaches started giggling, and someone else joined her and suddenly the whole room was laughing.

She spun around, then gave a graceful curtsy. Grabbing my hand, she dragged me off to a tiny women’s bathroom tucked behind the stage. It only had one stall, and there were five of us waiting in line, including the one girl in our class that I’d truly disliked, Jenny Woelfel.

Jenny was a mean girl.

She’d sat behind me in third grade, and I’d never forget the day she cut off my ponytail because Brett Anderson had given me a scratch-and-sniff sticker. It’d paid off for the bitch, too. She and Brett were married now, with three kids.

“It’s nice to have someone serving me drinks for once,” Peaches declared, fluffing her hair. “Last night was a fucking nightmare.”

“I heard about that,” said Jenny, and I stilled. There was a hint of something nasty in her tone. I reached up to touch my hair, reassuring myself that it was all still there.

“Danica Caldwell works dispatch at the sheriff’s office, and she told me that a bunch of guys got arrested,” she continued. “Randi, you were there with all the Reapers, right? I never saw you as that type of girl…”

“Um, yeah,” I said, glancing toward the stall. Whoever was inside, I wished she would hurry up already. I’d forgotten how fast small town gossip could spread.

“I couldn’t help but notice your eye,” she added. “You know, Rome McGuire may be cute, but that whole family is trouble. You’d think he’d learned something when his brother died, but instead he took up with those bikers. You’d better be careful or you’ll end up like your mom. How many kids did she have? Five? But never a wedding ring…”

Wait, what?

Rome hadn’t said anything about his brother dying, only that they’d hauled stuff up to the loft together. Why hadn’t he told me? And what the actual fuck was she trying to say about my mother?

I turned slowly toward Jenny, and studied her with fresh eyes.

We were adults now, not third graders, yet for some reason she was still trying to cut off my ponytail. I noticed she’d put on some weight over the years, and her hair wasn’t as sleek as it used to be. Faint, unhappy lines were forming at the corner of her mouth. Her eyes held more than a hint of desperation.


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