#Exclusive Bonus Scene for Ryan Michele’s Ravage Me! #Special #BonusScene #MC #Biker @Ryan_Michel
About RAVAGE ME
After spending the last two years stuck behind bars for a crime she didn’t commit, Harlow ‘Princess’ Gavelson’s time inside has finally come to an end, and she’s ready for revenge. Unfortunately, being the daughter to the Vice President of the Ravage Motorcycle Club cuts into her plans, as orders must be followed. Trying to settle back into this life is proving difficult when the tables are turned and the woman who framed her is out for blood. Lucky for Princess, growing up in a MC has taught her how to hold her own.
After spending years in hell overseas, Donavon ‘Cruz’ came home to lose the very thing he went into hell for, sending him to the darkest moments of his life. Joining Ravage two years ago was his safe haven, and he protects his family at all costs.
When a dark-haired bombshell struts into the club’s shop, he’s caught off guard but immediately knows she’s the one he’d do anything for. Tough as nails, and taking no crap from anyone, he’s captivated by a woman who could handle this life. Trying to meet the needs of the MC business and follow his heart proves to be difficult when the two collide, and lives are at stake.
Can these two find a way to be together, or will the needs of Ravage cost them everything, including their lives?
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Read the exclusive scene now:
“Hey, boys!” a male voice came from beside us as we filled our gas tanks.
Cruz, Tug, Rhys, Buzz, Breaker, and I got called on to this run. Pops, my father and our president, wanted extra hands on deck, so that was what he got.
We had been riding for two and a half hours, and luckily, the storms had stayed at bay. Pops almost cancelled the run when the weather guy talked about hail and damaging winds. Fortunately, shit calmed, so we took off.
“What?” Cruz snapped.
“Can I join?”
Cruz looked at me as I put the nozzle back in the holder and shook my head. The fucker was going to get his ass beat; that was what. He had on dark navy jeans, a black T-shirt, and fucking tennis shoes. The problem was that he had no dirt under his nails, and his clothes were so fucking clean there was no way he had ever even changed his own oil before. I would be surprised if the fucker even owned a bike.
“Join?” Rhys questioned, crossing his arms over his chest in that don’t-give-me-shit stance he always took.
“Yeah! Join your gang! I wanna be in.” The asshole sounded so excited you’d think he just won the fucking lottery. Sorry, out of luck.
“You high or just stupid?” Cruz asked as I looked the man up and down. He didn’t seem to get what my brother was asking. “You gotta be fucked in the head to think you have enough balls to even come over here and breathe the same air as me.”
Rhys took a step closer, and after twisting my gas cap on, I went to his back.
“First, motherfucker, we aren’t a fuckin’ gang. We’re a club, a fuckin’ family. Second, we don’t take bitches off the fuckin’ streets. Third, your punk-ass couldn’t hang with us if you tried,” Rhys sneered between clenched teeth. The fucker was going to blow if we didn’t step in.
I went shoulder to shoulder with Rhys, feeling the anger pumping off of him. I swore I saw the guy in front of us shake a bit, but he covered it quickly by straightening his back. Stupid, stupid man.
“I could, too,” he argued.
“You want us to beat you in? That’s what we do: beat the ever-loving shit out of you, and if you survive, you’re in. You die, you’re in a coffin,” I told him, which made him pale.
“Aw, GT, you scared the little man,” Cruz chastised.
Now, for sure, the guy shook.
“You be-beat people in?” he asked.
“Yep, now get the fuck out of here and don’t let us see your face again,” Tug threw in.
The guy turned and took off at a clipped pace, trying to hold on to some of his man card. Too late for that shit.
I listened for the sound of pipes and nothing. What I did see was a small Honda Civic with the asshole in it, driving away as fast as possible.
“What the fuck?” Rhys growled. “Like we’d ever have his ass as a hang-around. Fuck no.”
“That fucker wouldn’t last a day as a hang-around, let alone a fuckin’ prospect,” Buzz said with a tip of his lip.
“You’d know, fucker,” I responded, giving him a shoulder bump as I walked by.
“Some of that shit you had us do was whacked, but we fuckin’ did it with smiles on our goddamned faces,” Buzz fired back, looking at Tug who smirked.
“Fuck, yeah. Still, I say the worst was when Dagger and Rhys went back-to-back in the shitter and blew that fucker up.” Tug shook his head in disgust.
“Damn, we all had to pitch in on that shit,” the ever quiet Breaker said.
I chuckled. “Fuck, man, that’s nothin’.” My mind reeled back to my time as a prospect. “Party night at the clubhouse. Bitches drinking, partying—everything. Somehow, the gallon of dip we served was bad. You want to talk bad? Fuckin’ puke and shit everywhere, brother. I mean …everywhere. Not a single place in the clubhouse didn’t get covered. Took me fuckin’ weeks to get that shit cleaned up.” I shook my head. “And all I wanted that night was pussy.”
“Damn, I assumed they were easy on ya, being Pops’ son and all,” Tug said.
I wanted to fucking laugh.
“Brother, you got it fuckin’ easy compared to me. I had to prove so much. Just because I’m blood to Pops, it didn’t mean shit.”
“Damn.” Breaker shook his head.
“It’s not sacrifice, brother; it’s family. You do what you gotta do for family.” Cruz slapped me on the back then put his arm around me. “Even if that means cleanin’ up piss, shit, and puke.”
“Right. I’d do it again in a fuckin’ heartbeat, too,” I responded.
“Same,” several of the guys said in unison as we all walked back to our bikes.
No way would that fucker keep us from where we needed to be.
“I’m just happy Derek’s cleaning up the shit right now,” Buzz joked, talking about our new prospect.
“Fuck, yeah,” Tug agreed.
We saddled up.
“And we’re not takin’ on any more guys at the moment,” Rhys added.
“Let’s ride, brothers,” Dagger said.
Ride hard and free.