Wraith: A Second Chance Dark Romance (Masters of Mayhem Book 1) by Renee Rocco

Author:Renee Rocco [Rocco, Renee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780578730325
Published: 2020-12-15T06:00:00+00:00

Nothing says normal like having my ass parked on the back of my Honda CRF450RWE.

Decked out in O’Neal gear, I whale on the throttle as I rip over the motocross track behind Sanctum. I extend my left leg for balance as I take the bermed corner. Ride up the first tabletop, then the step off. Fly around the flat corner. Glide over the rollers. Sail down the ski jump. Speed right into the double jump. Keep riding through the turns, bumps, valleys, and jumps, until my gloved fingers are practically fused with the grips.

By the time I’m ready to come off the track, I’m the last one riding, with Jester sitting on the edge of the track having a beer with Havoc. I roll up to them and pull off my helmet. Hang it from the clutch before tugging off my jersey. I tent the drenched wifebeater, but it sucks right back to me like a second skin.

“Sweat much?” Jester wrinkles his nose.

“Unlike you, I have six months to make up for,” I retort.

Jester throws up a hand, and when it comes down, he slaps his thigh. “Why do you have to go and say that shit?”

“To irritate you,” I drawl.

Havoc tosses me a beer and raises his in a toast. “Good to have you home, brother.”

“Thanks.” I crack open the can and tap his beer. “Good to be home.”

Havoc studies the scars on my face and arms, and his usual ornery expression turns deadly. Don’t blame him for staring, even if it is picking at my pride.

Havoc doesn’t say much—unlike his younger brother, Discord. That one is a wordy bastard. He’s always happy. Always smiling. I used to wonder if he joined the Unholy to follow in his big brother’s footsteps, but when Berserkers decided to get rowdy one night, Discord was the first to throw hands. He came out the bloodiest and smiling ear to ear.

Swear to Christ, it was the creepiest shit I’ve ever seen—and that’s factoring in my time in the dungeon.

“Word around Mayhem is that you came back with a stray.”

I cock a brow and drape my arms over the handlebar. “Jamie Ellis isn’t a stray. She’s Mayhem born. I brought her home.”

“Crazy how life works, huh? You and her being together again?” He takes a long pull of his beer. “Small fucking world.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Jester takes a drink.

Havoc sizes me up. “What happened, Wraith?”

Not only is Havoc a high-ranking enforcer, which makes him privy to sensitive intel, he’s also one of my closest friends. One of the Four Horsemen of Mayhem—as some folks call him, Jester, Malice, and me. And once I start talking, I tell him everything. It bleeds out of me like an open wound.

They, in turn, fill me in on everything I missed while I was in captivity. How the Unholy blamed the Berserkers for my disappearance, and were thisclose to an all-out war with the rival gang.

But shit’s getting too dramatic out here. I came here to forget Gomorrah.

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