Mountain Misfits MC: Complete Box Set

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Mountain Misfits MC: Complete Box Set Page 1

by Voss, Deja




  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.

&n
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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?”

 

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