Luck of the Devil Read Online Marie James (Ravens Ruin MC #2)

Categories Genre: Biker, Erotic, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Ravens Ruin MC Series by Marie James
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
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“I may just do that.”

He nods again before walking out of my room without so much as a goodbye.

Chapter 4

Briar

“Don’t take long,” Lynch advises as we split at the front of the airport.

TJ and Ronan accompany me to the waiting SUV at the curb while Lynch and the other guys pile into two others. Divide and conquer. That’s the plan. Watching the SUVs pull away, taking a left just before our vehicle turns right, I wonder, not for the first time, if we’re making the right choice or if we’re sending our president into a trap.

The heated conversation from the drive to Boston Logan International still rings in my head. He’s cautious, taking Chains, Professor, and Hornet with him, but four guys against an entire cartel is still bad odds. I told him as much, giving a voice to the twisting feeling of dread in my stomach. I shut up after he reminded me that all seven of us together wouldn’t survive a cartel ambush.

“You going to tell me about last night in the hallway?” TJ prods as we settle in for the drive to the Dead-End Demons’ clubhouse.

They don’t know we’re coming. We didn’t want to give them time to prepare in case they aren’t willing to be absorbed into the Ravens Ruin MC. Not that they really have a choice in the first place.

“What about the swelling around your nose?”

Ronan chuckles from his place in the passenger seat, but he’s smart enough not to give his opinion.

“I honestly don’t think Lynch would kill you,” TJ continues, undeterred by the fact that I haven’t so much as grunted a response in his direction. “Maim maybe, but not kill.”

“Unless he’s in a bad mood,” Ronan cuts in.

“He’d have to be in a seriously bad mood to kill Briar,” TJ clarifies.

“Or just out of coffee creamer,” Ronan adds.

“Or that,” TJ concedes.

I can feel TJ’s stare on the side of my face, but I refuse to give any credit to the conversation. It was bad enough climbing into the SUV to head to the airport after realizing that I walked away from Molly without even telling her goodbye. Maybe the sickness turning my gut has more to do with her than this trip.

“Briar,” TJ singsongs, bordering on sounding like a whiny kid who isn’t getting his way. “Tell us what happened.”

It’s in this moment TJ seems his actual age. It’s easy some days to forget he’s only twenty years old when he’s ripping people apart like he’s been doing it for decades.

My eyes dart to the hired driver. It’s not like I have any plans of divulging any scintillating details about what happened in the hallway, but I wouldn’t speak openly in front of a stranger no matter how well recommended they come.

Besides, TJ isn’t interested in me or what I do with Molly. He’s urged me more than once to pursue her. I think it has more to do with my celibacy than his desire for my happiness. All of the guys at the clubhouse are bewildered with my lack of a sex life, but not one single person, not even Lynch, knows why I took that vow. How could they when I’ve never mentioned or alluded to my reasoning. It wasn’t their business ten years ago, and it remains the same today.

Finally, I turn my gaze to meet his. “Wanna talk about where you’ve been sneaking off to the last couple of weeks?”

TJ’s jaw snaps shut.

The sound is so loud Ronan chuckles again from the front.

“TJ,” I taunt, drawing out each letter. “Tell us what happened.”

His eyes narrow, focusing on mine, but he doesn’t say a word.

“Honestly, man.” I cut my eyes back out the window and give him some privacy. I’m not scared of my best friend’s little brother, but he’s volatile on a good day. Going apeshit crazy inside this SUV isn’t on the agenda today.

“Five miles,” the driver says as we turn down a two-lane blacktop. “The supplies you asked for are in the back.”

TJ twists in the seat and reaches over the back. Before long, we’re each tucking two handguns into our waistbands. TJ has a knife also, but I don’t feel threatened as he twists it absently, digging the sharp point into the tip of his finger on the opposite hand until a bead of blood pools. He’s calmer once he lifts the digit to his lips.

The kid is weird as fuck, but I’m glad he’s on our side. His impulsivity and ability to get into trouble when he’s doing things as simple as pumping gas aside, he’s brilliant with his hands. Knives are almost an extension of his body, and I know he’s felt uneasy without having one on him the last couple of hours.

“This is it?” I lower my head so I can take in the run-down building that looks like it could be knocked over with a strong wind. How it has survived the number of hurricanes and tropical storms that have hit the area in recent years is beyond me.


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