Page 6 of Ripper's Redemption

“Don’t stop,” I pant, clinging to him as if he’s my lifeline. “Don’t ever stop.”

“Never,” he vows, his pace quickening, pushing us both to the edge of oblivion.

We’re lost in the rhythm of our bodies, the bike beneath us rocking with the force of our passion.

The mountains stand silent witness, the wheat swaying gently in the breeze. It’s wild, it’s chaotic, and it’s perfect.

“Ripper,” I gasp, feeling the climax build within me, ready to burst. “I’m...I’m gonna?—”

“Come for me,” he commands, his voice raw and commanding. “Come on, Tara."

And I do. I shatter around him, the pleasure ripping through me like a tidal wave. He follows moments later, his own release a primal roar that echoes into the night.

For a moment, we stay intertwined, our breaths mingling, our hearts pounding in sync.

God, this is exactly what I needed.

CHAPTER ONE

Ripper

The phone buzzes in my pocket, a sharp vibration against my thigh.

I yank it out, glancing at the screen—Stiletto. She never calls me, always texts, and my pulse quickens.

“Ripper,” she says, her voice taut with panic. “Bama’s been shot.”

“Where?” The word comes out harsher than I intend, but there’s no time to waste.

“On the outskirts of town, near the old mill,” she replies, her breath hitching. “He’s bleeding really bad. I don’t know what the fuck to do, Ripper. Can you get here fast? Please?”

“Hang tight. I’m on my way.” I end the call and shove the phone back into my pocket, my mind racing.

My bike roars to life beneath me, the engine vibrating through my bones as I tear down the highway. I’m riding like a bat out of hell, trying to get there as fast as I can.

The wind whips against my face, each gust like a needle prick on my skin, but I barely register it.

All I can think about is Bama, lying somewhere, bleeding uncontrollably.

The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the asphalt.

The smell of pine and dust fills my nostrils, mingling with the faint scent of gasoline.

Every second feels like an eternity, every mile a lifetime.

I push the bike harder, the world blurring around me as I drive faster than I ever have in my entire life.

Finally, I see the old mill up ahead, its rusted frame a skeletal silhouette against the darkening sky.

I ride around the building and finally spot Stiletto’s figure hunched over a form on the ground.

My heart lurches at the sight. She looks up for a split second, panic and fear covering her features.

I skid to a stop, gravel spitting out from under my tires.

I leap off the bike and rush over.

Stiletto looks up at me, terrified beyond belief.

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