The next morning began before sunrise.
The sound of motorcycles starting outside dragged me from sleep.
Not one engine.
Several.
I frowned and reached for my phone.
5:12 a.m.
Who willingly woke up at five in the morning?
Apparently everyone in the Reapers Motorcycle Club.
I pulled on a sweatshirt and padded downstairs.
The smell of fresh coffee filled the bar.
Maria stood behind the counter filling travel mugs while Ghost, Hawk, Mason, and several other club members checked duffel bags stacked near the front entrance.
The mood was calm.
Too calm.
Like everyone already knew exactly what they were doing.
Luca looked up the moment I entered.
“Morning, Sleeping Beauty.”
“It’s five in the morning.”
“And?”
“That’s illegal.”
He grinned.
“I’ve been awake since four.”
“That exp
