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Luck Of The Devil (The Devil’s Riders #6)
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They call me Lucky. I never want to play the same hand twice. Until a gorgeous single mom deals me a hand I can’t refuse.
I’m one of the Devil’s Riders, the inner circle of the biggest MC in Southern California. I’m just back from my final deployment. I paid my dues, and now I just want to enjoy myself.
That means fast bikes, stiff drinks and easy women. As many as I can get.
At least that’s what I thought I wanted. Until I see her. Working the tables at an underground gambling den run by the local mafia, Kirsten is like a beautiful rose blooming in a pile of garbage. They might own her but she doesn’t belong there.
Neither of us do.
I risk my life every time I go back to see her, but I just can’t stay away. She turns me down again and again. But the night her world threatens to implode, I learn her secret. There is nothing that will stop me now. It’s her kid who finally helps me break down her walls. Once we start, it’s too late. We are both in too deep. I might be risking both of our lives, but I can’t get enough. I’m addicted to her and nothing in Heaven or Hell will stop me.
I’ll save her and her kid if it’s the last thing I ever do.
Luck of The Devil is the sixth book in the Devil’s Riders series. It can be read as a standalone. As always, this book has a guaranteed Happy Ever After and no cheating!
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I rubbed my eyes and stretched, staring out the grimy bus window. It was dark but I recognized the road. I was in familiar territory. I was nearly home.
I never thought I would actually make it back here. I was lucky to be walking out of there after some of the shit we’d seen. My last tour had been brutal. I was happy as fuck just to be alive.
I’d been traveling for almost thirty-six hours. I was tired but I was used to it. When you are deployed across the globe, you get used to traveling. This crappy bus was actually a step up from the hard seats and cramped quarters they provided in the service.
I turned, feeling like I was being watched. A cute little white-haired lady sat across the aisle, smiling at me. I nodded my head in greeting, and she took the opportunity to scoot into the seat next to me.
“Thank you for your service,” she said, holding out a Tupperware container. I opened it and got hit by the scent of fresh baked cookies. How they smelled fresh on that dingy old bus, I had no idea.
That was some old lady magic, right there.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“My name’s Shirley.”
I offered her my hand and she took it.
“You talk in your sleep.”
“So I’ve been told.” I smiled and chose a cookie. I took a bite and sighed, it was so damn good. “Did I say anything good?”
“Something about a devil. Are you alright, son?” She put her hand on my arm. “Do you need to see a priest?”
“Not a devil. A Devlin. He’s one of my brothers.”
“How many do you have?”
“About three hundred and forty six. Last time I checked.”
She giggled girlishly, clearly thinking I was joking. I was not. I counted the entire MC as family. She told me to take more cookies. I shook my head. I didn’t want to take all her supplies. She held out a hankie and plopped six more cookies into it, leaving only two for herself.
“I insist, young man. When is the last time you had home cooking?”
“It’s been awhile,” I admitted. And it had been. A long fucking time. Unless you counted some of the families that tried to feed us overseas. Some of the people had been grateful to us, despite popular opinion.
“I’m getting off in about ten minutes, you might get hungry.”
She leaned over.
“That’s alright. I have a whole other tin full of muffins.”
We shot the shit and ate cookies for the next few minutes. It wasn’t long before the bus door opened with a groan. It was my stop so Shirley went back to her seat and we said goodbye. I turned back and held up the hanky full of cookies at the door and saluted her. Then I hoisted my duffle bag over my shoulder and stepped out into the cool California night air.
I inhaled deeply with my eyes closed.
“Are you going to stand there like an idiot or are you going to get in the car?”
I opened my eyes to see Jack leaning against the hood of a massive truck. It had a flat bed like his old one, but this one also had two and half rows of seating. I readjusted my bag and strolled over to him.
My eyebrows shot up.
“Lots changed since you left.”
“I can see that. You could send a fucking postcard once in a while, you know.”
He grunted. Jack was a man of few words. But then he surprised me.
“So could you.” He gestured to the truck. “Get in.”
I tossed my bag in the back and climbed in, looking around. “Nice… really fucking nice.” I ran my hand over the dash. “Want a cookie?”
Jack just stared at me. I stared back. He was intimidating as fuck, but he was my brother. I wasn’t scared of him. I grinned, happy as fuck to be off public transportation.
“So, where are we going? Strip club? Bar? Poker game? I need alcohol and women. And a bed, eventually anyway.” I grinned. “I can fuck standing up.”
Jack ignored my comments.
“Clubhouse. You can shack up there. Dev said you can take his room.”
“Yeah. He doesn’t need it.”
I nodded. I’d expected to crash in one of the little spare rooms at the clubhouse, but I hadn’t expected to get Dev’s sweet room. He had his own bathroom and a mini fridge, not to mention privacy. It was the only room upstairs, far from the stripper poles and pool tables that were usually going until dawn.
I had put all my shit in boxes and let my lease expire. My bike was in Jack’s shop and I had a couple of boxes and maybe two pieces of furniture in Donnie’s barn. Other than that, everything I had was in that beat up duffle bag in the back of Jack’s truck.