Dixie Reapers MC (#24) Bad Boys (#2)
Date Published: September 26, 2025
delivered passion.
Karoline: My world crumbled when I found out my brother was killed in action.
But the shock deepened when a social worker showed up with Athena—a
niece I never knew existed. With my brother’s last wish urging me to
seek out his best friend, Viking, I found myself at the gates of the Dixie
Reapers MC. What I didn’t expect? The dangerous, inked biker who once
teased me as a kid now makes my heart race… and my body ache.
Viking: I never thought I’d see Karoline again, let alone with a kid in
tow. The moment I laid eyes on her—all grown up and looking like
sin—I knew I was in trouble. But with threats from her brother’s
past closing in, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Karoline and her
niece safe—even if it means risking my heart and breaking every club
rule. But secrets don’t stay buried, and neither does desire.
If you love protective, possessive bikers, secret baby/child tropes, and
off-the-charts chemistry, Viking brings you a ride-or-die romance with heat,
heart, and a hero who falls hard and fast.
Karoline
Athena fell asleep on the couch after lunch, curled into a tight ball with
Hopper the rabbit clutched against her chest. I covered her with a soft
blanket, watching the steady rise and fall of her breathing, the way her
copper curls spilled across the cushion. She hadn’t spoken a single word
since arriving — not to me, not to the social worker. Not even a whisper.
Three hours into guardianship, and I was already wondering if I’d made a
terrible mistake thinking I could do this. She was so small, so vulnerable,
and so completely shut down that I had no idea how to reach her.
Lunch had been an awkward affair — me chattering nervously about nothing
while she stared at the peanut butter sandwich I’d made, taking tiny
mouse bites only after I’d demonstrated that it was safe to eat.
She’d followed me around the house like a silent shadow, those watchful
eyes taking in everything but giving nothing away. When I’d suggested a
rest on the couch, she’d climbed up without protest and simply curled
into herself, as if trying to take up as little space as possible.
My heart ached thinking about what might have happened to make her this way.
Kris would never have neglected her — of that I was certain. Had the woman
who’d been caring for her done something? The thought made my gut clench
in protest. I’d never understand people who could harm sweet innocent
children.
I glanced at the small pink suitcase the social worker had brought in, sitting
untouched by the front door. Maybe there were answers there. At the very
least, I needed to know what she had, what she might need.
Moving quietly so as not to wake her, I carried the suitcase to the kitchen
table and unzipped it. The contents were pitiful — a few sets of clothes,
most looking worn and slightly too small. A pair of pajamas with faded
unicorns. A toothbrush in a plastic case. A small stuffed dog that had seen
better days. I had a hard time picturing my brother neglecting his daughter to
this extent, which made me think it had been the caregiver’s fault. And
at the bottom, a plastic bag containing an envelope. My breath caught when I
saw my name written on the front — Kris’s handwriting, the familiar
slant of his letters making my eyes sting with fresh tears.
“Oh, Kris,” I whispered, running my fingers over the ink. It was
real, tangible proof that he had existed, that he had thought of me. That he
had trusted me with the most precious thing in his life.
With trembling hands, I opened the envelope and pulled out several sheets of
paper. The first was a formal-looking document — legal paperwork naming me as
Athena’s guardian and requesting that I adopt her in the event of his
death. It was dated just three months ago, as if he’d somehow known his
time was running short. Of course, I’d already handled paperwork like
this from the social worker, but seeing a copy my brother personally sent to
me hit me hard.
Behind this was a handwritten letter on lined paper, folded in thirds. I took
a deep breath and unfolded it.
Lina,
If you’re reading this, then I’m gone, and I’m so damn sorry
for that. I’m sorry for a lot of things, especially for not telling you
about Athena sooner. I wanted to. Every time we talked, every time I saw you,
I wanted to tell you about this amazing little person who has my stubborn chin
and your fiery hair. But I couldn’t risk it — not until I was sure it
was safe.
Athena is my daughter. Her mother was someone I met during a mission four
years ago. It wasn’t serious between us, but when she told me she was
pregnant, I stepped up. When Athena was born, her mother decided she
couldn’t handle parenthood and signed over full custody to me.
I’ve been raising her with help from friends when I’m deployed.
Here’s the part that’s going to be hard to believe, but I need you
to trust me. If I died during a mission — and if you’re reading this,
that’s what happened — then there’s a chance you and Athena could
be in danger. The work I was doing was classified, and there are people who
might think I told my family things I shouldn’t have. They might think
Athena knows something, or that I left information with her or her caregivers.
I didn’t. I never brought my work home. But these people don’t
take chances. So I need you to do something that’s going to sound crazy.
I need you to take Athena and go to Lief Hansen — Viking, as he’s
called now. He’s with the Dixie Reapers MC in southern Alabama.
He’ll know what to do. He’ll keep you both safe.
I know I’m asking a lot. I know you probably haven’t seen Lief in
years. But he’s family to me, and he’ll protect what’s mine.
And Lina — you and Athena are mine. My sister. My daughter. The two people I
love most in this world.
Just go to Viking as soon as you can. He’ll explain everything.
I love you, Christmas girl. Take care of my little one.
Kris
I stared at the letter, reading it again, and then a third time, trying to
make sense of the words. Danger? People coming after Athena? It sounded like
something from a spy movie, not real life. Not my life.
But Kris was dead. That part was all too real.
I glanced back at the couch where Athena slept, peaceful for the first time
since I’d met her. Could someone really want to hurt this innocent
child? Or me? It seemed impossible, paranoid even. Yet Kris had never been the
paranoid type. If he thought there was danger, there must be some basis for
it.
And Viking… Lief Hansen. The name sent a complicated flutter through my
chest. In my mind, he was still the golden giant who’d called me
“Little Kringle” and made my teenage heart race. But he
wouldn’t be that person anymore. According to Kris’s letter, he
was part of a motorcycle club now — the Dixie Reapers. I’d never heard
of them, but the name alone conjured images of rough men in leather, doing God
knows what.
Could I really just show up there with a traumatized three-year-old? What
would I even say? Hey, remember me, your old friend’s little sister? The
one who used to follow you around like a lovesick puppy? Well, my
brother’s dead, this is his secret daughter, and apparently, we might be
in danger from mysterious unnamed enemies. Can we crash with you?
It was absurd. All of it.
And yet…
I looked at the letter again, at Kris’s familiar handwriting. I need you
to trust me, he’d written. And I did. Always had. From teaching me to
ride a bike to helping me through my first heartbreak, Kris had never steered
me wrong. If he thought Viking was our best option, then that’s what we
would do.
I folded the letter carefully and slipped it into my pocket. Then I walked
back to the couch and knelt beside it, studying Athena’s sleeping face.
Her long eyelashes cast faint shadows on her freckled cheeks. Her tiny hand
clutched Hopper’s ear, keeping him close even in sleep.
“I’ll keep you safe,” I whispered, gently brushing a curl
from her forehead. “I promise.”
I had no idea how to protect us from whatever danger Kris thought might be
coming. But I knew who might. And no matter how awkward, how difficult it
might be to face Lief Hansen after all these years, I would do it. For Athena.
For Kris.
Tomorrow, we would find the Dixie Reapers.
Harley Wylde is an accomplished author known for her captivating MC Romances.
With an unwavering commitment to sensual storytelling, Wylde immerses her
readers in an exciting world of fierce men and irresistible women. Her works
exude passion, danger, and gritty realism, while still managing to end on a
satisfying note each time.
When not crafting her tales, Wylde spends her time brainstorming new
plotlines, indulging in a hot cup of Starbucks, or delving into a good book.
She has a particular affinity for supernatural horror literature and movies.
Visit Wylde’s website to learn more about her works and upcoming events, and
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