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  They didn’t fuss or argue about Bladen leaving the club at all. Surprisingly, it’s just been a smooth transition. There are no hard feelings from anyone. Bladen calls and checks on his buddies, but they never talk long. He still rides his Harley, but I can’t help but feel like he is missing the club even if his actions seem fine.

  I know they are family and always will be even if we aren’t with them everyday.

  Tempest and Deacon can hopefully use this time to sort their stuff. I know my cousin has deep feelings for the former SEAL, but I also know she has secrets, and until she’s ready to be open about those, there is no future for her with anyone.

  Slicing the tomatoes, I smile, thinking about having all our friends over for grilling.

  In a matter of hours, the rumbles of Harley’s can be heard pulling up.

  Bladen immediately smiles. His eyes dance. It’s this moment that I realize he misses the Devil’s Due lifestyle. Even though, he hasn’t said it or shown it, now having them here, I see it.

  Thinking about Trapper and the fact that he could have been shot saving me, I wonder who will protect him when the time comes to face whatever he has in his past.

  As a whole, the club has taken my back, and even my cousin’s, with X and Deacon staying here with Tempest while the others came to find me.

  There is a longing inside me I didn’t have before. I want to see Bladen live to his full potential. He says I am his purpose, but I think the Devil’s Due Motorcycle Club may in fact be our purpose.

  We all share a meal together. Then Collector and Sonnie stay in our spare room, X and Hadley head out to stay at her friend Cameron Lin’s house to spend time with her and her son, Trapper and Rowdy crash on our couches, and Deacon goes back to Tempest. Our house is full.

  Bladen relaxes. He’s happy. He has most of his family under one roof.

  Knowing that, I make a decision.

  Lying in bed, with our house filled with family, I look over at Bladen in the dark. “Think we need a change, Bladen.”

  “Shit, woman. Can we talk about this in the morning? Night time is not the time for anything serious unless it’s serious fuckin’.”

  Sitting up, I smile. “I want us to go back on the road.”

  “What? Really?”

  He pinches my ass.

  “Ouch,” I whimper playfully.

  “Is this real? Am I dreaming?” He asks watching me.

  “Your friends, they did so much for me. I want to be there for them when the time comes. I want us to go back to the way your life was with them, only we do it together. I don’t know what skills I bring to the table like Deacon and his SEAL training or Trapper and his fearless and reckless way of doing things, but I want to be with them, with you with them.”

  He doesn’t speak, but if the way he seriously fucks me is any indication, I made Bladen a very happy man.

  Epilogue

  ~Tamalyn~

  Six Months Later…

  Hillside Drive has two lots available for purchase side by side. Bladen and I sit on his Harley in front of the ashes of what was once our childhood homes. We signed the papers today to put them on the market.

  “You want to meet Timothy Rick?” Bladen asks knowing we learned my biological dad’s name.

  “Caleb always called me Tim’s like a nickname. It makes sense now.”

  “Baby,” he whispers feeling my pain.

  I look to the empty lots and back to him. “You know Bladen, there are some things best left alone. I think this is one of them.”

  Lifting my hand, I flip my middle finger to the memories.

  “Nothing but good ahead, lover,” I say, wrapping my arms around Bladen and holding him close.

  We pull off without him saying anything. It has me a little on edge that he simply accepts my decision about meeting my real dad. I hope he’s not taking me to him. I meant what I said, I am at peace with where I have been and where I’m headed in life.

  The cemetery we stop in front of is one I am all too familiar with. I don’t speak as I climb off and give Bladen a chance to do the same. Then he reaches down to his saddlebag and pulls out the pinwheel from his home. Taking me by the hand, he guides me to my mother’s grave.

  “She didn’t want you to live what you did,” Bladen gives me honestly.

  “I know,” I whisper, fighting my emotions.

  “Brought you here to leave all the bad here.” He leans down and puts the pinwheel in the ground near her headstone. Then his eyes meet mine. “Today, Tamalyn Mary Andrews, I promise you my life. Once, you said you wanted to write the future. This starts now.”

  I feel the heat of my tears hit my cheeks.

  “I promise you a lifetime of love. From page one until the last breath I take, you are it for me. I will give all that I am to see you happy and without pain.”

  “Bladen …” I start, but he places one finger over my lips, stopping me.

  “The man I am stands before you today, whole only because you are with me. I give you my word, my vow to love you, beginning to end, Tamalyn.”

  “Bladen Jacob Jones, today we write the book of our future. From page one until the last breath I take, you are it for me. I give all that I am to see you happy and without pain.” I take a deep breath. “The woman I am stands before you today, whole only because you have always been with me. I give you my word, my vow to love you, beginning to end.”

  He bends down and presses his lips to mine.

  Without breaking our contact, I whisper against his lips, “This is what happily ever after’s are made of.”

  Bottom Line

  Bonus Time

  ~Trapper~

  T he line rings.

  For a moment, I think maybe, just maybe, this is it. Avery is done with me. This will be the time I don’t get an answer.

  Four rings, then …

  “Fucker!”

  Well, not exactly a welcome hello, but it is something. There is still life on the other end of the phone. This is a positive.

  “Well, hello to you, too, Avery.”

  “Fucker, one year. It’s been one year, Trapper.” The impatience is noted. “I should have known when you easily conceded to my ultimatum it wouldn’t really be easy. Nothing with you ever is!”

  “Oh, and you are! Forget your choice, Avery. It’s time we move on. You’re what got me into this shit in the first motherfuckin’ place. I’m trying to hold on to something I don’t even know is real.” I look at the screen of my phone and see the seconds tick by. “Do I even know this call is real, hm? Riddle me that, Avery!”

  “Jackass, you know this is real. I just don’t understand you. When anyone else is around, you speak freely. Mitchell becomes Trapper, and everyone takes Trapper just how he is. Well, what will Mitchell do if he’s not so easy to handle as Trapper?”

  “Shut. The fuck. Up.”

  “Cuttin’ a little too deep? Well, welcome to my hell, Mitchell Gates.”

  I slide the phone off.

  Fuck Avery Collins. Fuck the day we ever met.

  I pick up the bottle of booze and toss it back, taking a long drag. The burn goes to the back of my tongue and settles into my gut.

  Fuck it all.

  ~The End~

  Until the devil calls his due again in Day of Reckoning, coming later this year!

  Author Note:

  Pinwheels for Prevention is an American non-profit organization dedicated to child abuse awareness and prevention. The pinwheel is a symbol of childhood and the hope for a greater childhood for all children, regardless of race, sex, financial situation, health, etc. I chose to work the pinwheel into this storyline, given the history of both our hero and heroine, and the childhood’s they suffered.

  Child abuse comes in many forms. It also knows no bounds, as it’s not dictated by any segregating factors. Let our kids know what it is to be kids. Let us put forth the effort to give them a chance to live without fear. The world is scary enough without having to be afraid at home.

>   If you would like to learn more, please visit:

  www.preventchildabuse.org

  If you would like to get involved, there are multiple chapters nationwide. Find one in your area. If you would like to purchase a pinwheel for your yard, please do so, and let’s make the world aware that we care about our children.

  I have created my own pinwheel garden in my yard and hope to carry some with me to events to keep the word going. Every moment we share is a chance to give a child a moment of peace. To me, that’s worth more than any money can buy.

  Up next in the series:

  Day of Reckoning

  Time served for a crime he didn’t commit only provided many lessons learned. The domino effect of one person’s crime going unpunished cuts deeply and leaves a mark that can never be covered.

  He’s no saint.

  Jackson “Rowdy” Presley did a dime, and he served his time silently. He could have brought down the real criminals. Instead, he took the term and paid the price. Never had loyalty before the Devil’s Due MC, he finally has the new beginning he desperately needs.

  She’s not afraid to call herself a sinner.

  Peony Michele Forbes lives her life wherever the wind takes her. She walked away from her past to give herself a future with no restrictions. As much as she wants to forget who she is, others won’t let her disappear so easily. Danger follows her everywhere she goes.

  Will Jackson see beyond his jaded connection to Peony and find there is more to life than revenge? When backed to the wall, will Peony let herself trust Jackson to be the one to save her?

  Love, hate, anger, and passion collide as the time comes, and the devil demands his due.

  About the Author

  USA Today bestselling author Chelsea Camaron is a small town Carolina girl with a big imagination. She’s a wife and mom, chasing her dreams. She writes contemporary romance, erotic suspense, and psychological thrillers. She loves to write about blue-collar men who have real problems with a fictional twist. From mechanics to bikers to oil riggers to smokejumpers, bar owners, and beyond she loves a strong hero who works hard and plays harder.

  Chelsea can be found on social media at:

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/authorchelseacamaron

  Twitter: @chelseacamaron

  Instagram: @chelseacamaron

  Website: www.authorchelseacamaron.com

  Email chelseacamaron@gmail.com

  Stay up to date on all releases and sales by subscribing to Chelsea’s newsletter here:

  https://goo.gl/rBipK2

  Other works by Chelsea Camaron

  Love and Repair Series:

  Crash and Burn

  Restore My Heart

  Salvaged

  Full Throttle

  Beyond Repair

  Stalled

  Box Set Available

  Hellions Ride Series:

  One Ride

  Forever Ride

  Merciless Ride

  Eternal Ride

  Innocent Ride

  Simple Ride

  Heated Ride

  Ride with Me (Hellions MC and Ravage MC Duel with Ryan Michele)

  Originals Ride

  Final Ride

  Roughneck Series:

  Maverick

  Heath

  Lance

  Box Set Available

  Devil’s Due MC Series:

  Crossover

  In the Red

  Below the Line

  Close the Tab

  Day of Reckoning (release TBA)

  Paid in Full (release TBA)

  Bottom Line (release TBA)

  Stand Alone Reads:

  Thrillers - Stay

  Romance – Serving My Soldier

  Mother Trucker

  The following series are co-written

  The Fire Inside Series:

  (co-written by Theresa Marguerite Hewitt)

  Kale

  Mason (Release TBA)

  Regulators MC Series:

  (co-written by Jessie Lane)

  Ice

  Hammer

  Coal

  Summer of Sin Series:

  (co-written with Ripp Baker, Daryl Banner, Angelica Chase, MJ Fields, MX King)

  Original Sin

  Caldwell Brothers Series:

  (co-written by USA Today Bestselling Author MJ Fields)

  Hendrix

  Morrison

  Jagger

  Stand Alone Romance:

  (co-written with USA Today Bestselling Author MJ Fields)

  Visibly Broken

  Use Me

  Save Me (Release TBA)

  Teach Me (Release TBA)

  Ruthless Rebels MC Series:

  (co-written with Ryan Michele)

  Shamed

  Scorned

  Scarred

  Schooled (Release TBA)

  Excerpt from:

  Shamed

  Ruthless Rebels MC Book One

  Co-Written by

  Chelsea Camaron

  And

  Ryan Michele

  Copyright © Chelsea Camaron and Ryan Michele 2016

  All Rights Reserved. This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction in whole or in part, without express written permission from Chelsea Camaron and Ryan Michele.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  1st edition published: December 2016

  Cover Design by: M.L. Pahl of IndieVention Designs

  Editing by: Asli Fratarcangeli

  2nd edition published: April 10, 2017

  This work of fiction is intended for mature audiences only. All sexually active characters portrayed in this book are eighteen years of age or older. Please do not buy if strong sexual situations, violence, domestic abuse, and explicit language offends you.

  This is not meant to be an exact depiction of life in a motorcycle club, but rather a work of fiction meant to entertain.

  Shamed

  Dixon James Cartwright – the cowboy on a steel horse.

  Trouble with a capital T.

  The rigid edge of his jawline to his no holds barred lifestyle DJ is the one person I should stay away from.

  Why then when everything crashes around me is he my only saving grace?

  Chelsea Camaron and Ryan Michele have teamed up to bring you an explosive new MC romance that will have you panting for more of the Ruthless Rebels. Hold on tight, it's going to be a wild ride full of action and suspense that these two authors are known for. Throw in two people who finally get their second chance, and things are about to get smoking hot.

  Chapter One

  And Cinderella thought she had it so bad!

  Kenderly

  The alarm loudly beeps behind me, waking me from a restless sleep. Rather than turn it off, I toss the overly fluffy teal comforter over my head, wishing I could hide away. Stay safe and calm in my bubble of warmth. Where nothing can hurt and I can pretend that everything is perfect; okay, a small bit of perfect, in my world.

  “Five more minutes, mom,” I grumble to myself because she really doesn’t care whether I stay in bed or not. Hell, I could leave for days and she’d never be the wiser.

  She’s here, but she’s not really here. She checked out years ago and I’ve lost hope she’ll ever check back in. When my dad died, alongside him my mother did too, just not physically.

  That was eight long years ago.

  Tossing the comforter back from its cocoon of warmth, exposing myself to the world, I roll to my back and slap my hands down forcefully to my sides on the mattress; it does nothing but give a small poof of air. Blowing out a heavy breath, I think about turning the alarm off, but I don’t. Instead, I watch the white blades of my ceiling fan turn around and around. Co
ntinually on the same path and never stopping. Never changing.

  Funny how I can relate my life to a damn fan.

  Reaching over, I slide the plastic piece on the top of my old digital clock to shut the noise off. My dad’s alarm clock. The one that used to be in his office and the one I cherish. I was eight when he passed it on to me.

  “Kenderly, you gotta take initiative. Remember, in life, it’s not about how far someone carries you but how far you take yourself.”

  From that day on, like magic, I got myself up for school on my own, with my special clock. It continued on as I grew up and got a job. I’ve come to love the sound of that alarm and hate it all the same. Love it for the memories, hate it because I’m awake in my life again.

  The sunlight peeks through my teal with gold chevron patterned curtains. I look to the clock, five pm blinks at me.

  The day is wasting, or should I say the night. Everything is mixed up, upside down and twisted in knots. Since mom spiraled down, I’ve had to make some adjustments in life. My job at the bank only lasted so long after I had to call in sick so many days to care for her in the beginning. The only way to make everything fit for me and for her has been this overnight job at the gas station.

  Night shift.

  I used to sing the song with my dad, but I never thought I’d be working the graveyard shift at a gas station on an old back road that truckers use to park and sleep. I still feel the anxiety creep in before every shift. We live in a small town and really nothing horrible has ever happened. Still, can I be so safe all the time? I’m a twenty-seven-year-old woman working all alone, overnight, in a gas station out on an old highway. Not that I let that uncertainty stop me.