“Sweet, man. It’s good to be back.”
Jack nodded and started the truck. He turned back to me. I was shocked as the corners of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. Was that a… smile?
“It’s good to have you back, you fucker.”
Chapter 1
Lucky
Eight months later
“Is that all you got?”
I regretted my choice of words a minute later when my head snapped back from the force of the punch. Vincent was getting better at this, I thought. And he wasn’t really that mad, I decided. If he was, he’d use his left hand to hit me. The one with the giant gold ring.
I was in an alley, getting my ass handed to me by three guys. Two were holding me while the third took pot shots.
Not that I couldn’t take them. I could. I wasn’t struggling even a little bit. But if I beat them up, they wouldn’t let me come back to the weekly high-stakes poker game. Not to mention there would be a price on my head. It just wasn’t worth it. I loved poker a hell of a lot more than I hated pain.
I’d played well tonight. Too well, apparently. But I didn’t fuck with the Margarelli family. They let me play and that was enough for me. Every once in a while, they took it out of my hide if I played too well.
Hell, at least they let me keep the money.
It was well worth a couple of bruises to get a seat at that particular table. I’d made serious bank tonight. So I took my licks without complaining.
Plus, I was so fucking drunk, I barely felt a thing.
Vincent hit me again and I smiled at him, blood coursing out of my split lip. He stared and me and then shook his head.
“Its no fun if you don’t struggle.”
“Sorry. You want me to pretend?”
“Just let him go,” he said with disgust. “Serves me right for letting a guy named ‘Lucky’ get a seat at the table.”
The two thugs holding my arms released me abruptly and I swayed on my feet. I was hammered and a little lightheaded from the pummeling. But it was only 1:00 AM on a Wednesday night and I had a wad of cash in my pocket. I was ready for more.
I grinned and waved at them.
“See you next week.”
They waved me off, rolling their eyes.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Where you heading, Lucky?” Asked one of the goons. The big one. Joey, I think his name was.
Of course, there were about fifty Joeys in the Margarelli crew.
“I’m going to the Garage.”
He shook his head.
“Sal’s not as friendly as Vincent.”
“I know.”
Vince was the next in line to run the whole family, along with his brother Antonio. He was affable, for a mob boss. Sal was not as high up the food chain but a much bigger pain in the ass. The man had no morals. He had a nasty temper too.
Vincent and his brother were practically teddy bears next to Sal. They were scary but they weren’t insane. Sal was the kind of guy who looked like he enjoyed killing and kept trophies.
I would bet money there was a collection of skin or fingers in his attic. Maybe both.
“It’s your funeral, jackass.”
I grinned.
“Thanks, I appreciate the concern.”
I was always polite when dealing with the mafia. As a professional poker player, I came into contact with them a lot. As a Devil’s Rider, I had a guarantee that they’d never actually hurt me that bad.
Even the mafia didn’t want to deal with three hundred and fifty pissed off bikers. Plus, I only showed up with bank. They were too smart to turn money away, even if I won more than I lost.
So I was welcome at all of the underground gambling places in the area. And there were quite a few. The biggest and the best was the Garage. It was, you guessed it, in a defunct truck parking bay in the ass end of nowhere. The old industrial part of town that was deserted now. Half of it was owned by the mob.
There wasn’t much out there. A couple of chop shops and God knows what else. Bodies probably. Lots of bodies.
I pulled out my phone and called Mac.
“I need a ride.”
“I’m busy. The place is packed.”
“Get one of the new guys to cover the bar. I’m going to the Garage.”
He groaned and hung up. I was pulling rank on him, but he was technically still in his probationary period. Even though everyone knew he’d get his patch soon.
Being related to a core club member was a part of that, but not all. Mac was Donahue’s cousin, but he was also a really good guy. He always had your back in a fight. He was surprisingly good with his fists and always calm under pressure. Probably his martial arts background and time in the Navy.