Mountain Misfits MC
Complete Box Set
Deja Voss
Contents
Above & Below
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Never Coming Down
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Epilogue
Highest Sins
1. Fifteen Years Ago
2. Present Day
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
15. Fifteen Years Ago
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
22. Fifteen Years Ago
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
28. Fifteen Years Ago
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
46. Epilogue
Bound by Steel
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Epilogue
Rising Son
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
6. Fifteen Years Ago:
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
11. Three Years Ago
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
19. Fifteen Years Ago
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
23. Fifteen Years Ago
Chapter 24
25. Three Years Ago
Chapter 26
27. Fifteen Years Ago:
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Epilogue
Twisted Fates
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Epilogue
Ascension
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Epilogue
Afterword
Copyright © 2019 by Deja Voss
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Chapter 1
Sloan:
“Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?”
I am helping Olive curl her long blonde hair into tight rings as she works on gluing the big, thick fake eyelashes to her eyelids. I’d long ago accepted her life as a free spirit and realized the only thing I could do was be the most supportive best friend possible regardless of her life choices.
This situation is a little trickier to wrap my brain around than her previous brilliant ideas, but who am I to judge? I just admitted to the DEA that I conspired to sell heroin to pay my student loans. If they found me innocent, surely I could white-knuckle my way through Olive’s stripper phase.
“I don’t see why not. Rent, car payment and sushi every night for the next month just for showing up and taking off my clothes? Shit, what more could a girl ask for?” She laughs. Her bubblegum pink lipstick matches the tips of her hair, and by the glimmer in her bright blue eyes, I can tell she’s dead serious.
“Well, when you put it like that… why don’t you sign me up for next time? We can double down.”
“Oh shut up, Sloan. You don’t need this. You’re going to be a surgeon.”
“Maybe,” I mutter, grabbing the hairspray to hold the springy ringlets in place. “Cover your eyes.”
“Don’t even maybe me. You’re good now. You’re free. Everyone knows you’re innocent. Clean slate, baby.”
I spray her head down and she finishes off her eyelashes with silver glitter mascara.
“How do I look?” she asks, spinning around on my tile floor.
“Pretty?” I say, not wanting to state the obvious.
Her fringed thong leotard leaves very little to the imagination. Her silver-tipped stilettos look like an accident waiting to happen.
She lets out a loud sigh.
“Ok, seriously, you look beautiful, Olive.” She really does. No matter how much she tries to disguise herself in over-the-top slut gear, she always looks beautiful. She just doesn’t see it like everyone else in the whole entire world does.“Well, thanks. But do I look like a stripper?” she asks, popping her hip dramatically.
“I don’t know. I haven’t spent much time in the clubs. I’ve been meaning to, but by the time I get off work, all the best girls are already busy doing private dances.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
“How’d you even get tangled up in this scheme?” I ask. “I thought your bartending job at Cleary’s was going really well.”
“My boss hired his fiancée and my hours got cut in half, so I told him to get bent. This is a much better gig anyway. I work for myself, whatever hours I want, and get to keep all my tips. Rachel hooked me up with this job, but I think after this gig, I’ll make a website or something and start my own business.”
I love her gumption. She makes everything sound so easy. She sees the best in every situation, but sometimes details go over her head.
“Do you have protection?” I ask seriously.
“Like these?” She whips out a strip of cherry-flavored condoms from her makeup bag.
“What the hell do you have those for?” I’m more overwhelmed by the sheer quantity than anything. “I mean like a bodyguard or something. You don’t know what could happen, Ollie. I don’t want you to feel like you’re in a situation that’s out of your control.”
“Aren’t you driving me?”
And that’s a prime example of her lack of attention to detail.
I’m a fit chick and I can hold my own, but I’m fairly certain I don’t have the intimidation factor like some tattooed bodybuilder named Spike might have.
“You can use my gun.”
“You’re kidding, right? I’ve spent the last six years of my life resisting the urge to shoot someone in a house full of weapons.”
“Pepper spray?”
“You didn’t really think this out, did ya?”
“Seriously, don’t worry. These are personal clients of Rachel’s. I’m sure they’re fine.”
“Or she’s pawning them off on you.” I shrug.
She slides a pair of cutoff jean shorts on over her leotard and puts on a button-down gingham blouse. She puts on her cowboy hat and downs the last of her beer.
“Yee-haw!” she squeals, and I just shake my head.
I throw a bag of sunflower seeds and a stack of magazines I’d been meaning to read for the last month in my purse. “You ready to do this thing?”
“Here,” she says, tossing me a can of pepper spray.
“Do you know where we’re going?”
“I have a vague idea. Hopefully GPS works out there.”
I feel like some sort of fucked-up pageant mom, touching up her lip liner and giving her an extra coat of hairspray. I’ve learned with Olive it’s better to just cooperate than try and fight. She’s my rock, my best friend for life, my constant support system. Offering her the same in return is the least I can do, even if it means offering her up to a roomful of horny guys. She’s going to do whatever she wants, whether I’m there or not. Might as well be there, just in case.
The GPS on my phone is taking us down some dark back roads. No street lights. No buildings. No traffic. There are tiny camps and cabins every few miles, but the only signs of life I catch are the glowing eyeballs of deer feeding on the side of the road. My geriatric Honda Civic is not exactly thrilled by the terrain.
“This looks like some sketchy-ass hillbilly shit, Olive,” I warn. “You sure you still want to do this?”
I accidentally ram my car into a pothole and cringe as I feel the body quake and crunch. It’s not damaged, but the reality of the situation is starting to set in.
“Were you serious about that gun?” I ask her. The last thing I want is to be stranded out here in the sticks with no way to keep us safe from whatever might be bumping around in the night.
“Yeah. We’re good.”
“In one-quarter mile, your destination will be on the right,” the GPS chirps, and I’m half expecting to be greeted by a dilapidated shack filled with killer clowns. It’s just creepy out here, not knowing where you’re going.
“Holy shit,” Olive whispers.
The mansion on the side of the hill lights up the night on the road below. We pull up to a giant wrought iron gate with ornate elk and trees carved into it.
“Hit the buzzer?” she stammers.
I press the button.
“Yeah?” a gruff voice on the other side of an intercom says.
“Ummm… we’re the entertainment,” I say, not sure what the protocol is for things like this.
“What now?” The man sounds confused.
“I have the dancer?” Olive is cracking up in the passenger seat at my awkward attempt to sugarcoat the situation.
“Oh shit, ok.” The gate opens before us and I pull to the other side and stop. A younger guy with a leather vest comes to my window and I roll it down. He’s holding a clipboard. “Which ones are you?”