The Devil's Curve: a Back Down Devil MC romance novel

by Jaxson Kidman

  They got to the hospital and went to relieve two prospects of their shift as they waited outside April’s room.

  Steph was in there, holding the tiny newborn.

  “Hey, look who it is,” Steph whispered. “It’s Aunt Josie and Uncle Reese.”

  “Uncle Reese,” Reese said. “Makes me sound old.”

  “Makes you sound sexy,” Josie said.

  “Well then… Uncle Reese it is,” he said. “Can I hold my little girl?”

  “All yours,” Steph said. “I’m going to go and get a coffee. Anyone else want one?”

  “No thanks,” Reese said. “Just the baby.”

  He carefully slipped his hands under little April and took her from Steph.

  The baby was so tiny in his hands. It twisted his heart to look at her. The first thing he always thought about was Lasz. Lasz would probably stand there with a dumb grin on his face as he held the baby, telling her stories about his life and the things he wanted in her life.

  Which meant that Reese would have to do the same thing.

  “Little April,” he whispered. “It’s good to see you again. You’re getting bigger and stronger. You’ll be going home soon. You’re lucky because Aunt Josie was nice enough to give you and your mother her apartment to live in. Which means Aunt Josie lives with me now. I’m not sure I like that yet.”

  “Really?” Josie asked. “You didn’t mind this morning in the shower…”

  “Little ears,” Reese said with a grin. He looked down at April and her tiny eyes started to open. “Hey, she’s awake.”

  Her eyes were a rich amber color.

  “Oh, look at her,” Josie said. “Hey, little girl.”

  Reese swallowed hard. “I’m here, April. I’m always going to be here. You won’t have a normal family, but you’ll have the best family in the world. No matter what. I promise you that.” Reese looked at Josie. “I promise you that too, sweetheart.”

  “Look at you. You’re getting all mushy over a baby.”

  “Yeah, maybe I am. Damn.”

  April started to stretch her tiny arms and let out a cry. Reese found himself gently walking around the room until Steph came back. By then, April was crying and looking for her mother.

  “Okay, little April,” Reese said. “I love you with all my heart and soul. Be good for your mother. And you’ll be home soon enough.”

  Reese kissed April’s small head and slowly passed her back to Steph.

  “She’s probably hungry,” Steph said. “Which is good. They want her to eat as much as possible to get big.”

  “We’ll give you some privacy,” Reese said.

  “Hey,” Steph said. “Thank you both for everything. The apartment. The nursery. The club being here. It’s…”

  “Family,” Reese said.

  “And you’re going to have to pay for all of that on your own,” Josie said.

  “I know,” Steph said. “I’m going to figure it all out.”

  “Right now, just feed the baby and smile,” Reese said.

  They slipped out of the room and Reese couldn’t help but smile. Life could have taken a wicked turn weeks ago, but it didn’t. That was how the open road went. How freedom went. Going around each curve, you never knew what was waiting. An ambush. A tragedy in the making. Or just more open road.

  And sometimes, life’s wildest curves had nothing to do with riding two wheels and steel.

  Sometimes it was the stare of a woman… the way Josie looked at Reese in the hallway.

  “What?” Reese asked.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, Josie. I know that face…”

  “I know you do. Give me your hand.”

  Reese put his hand out and Josie’s face turned bright red. “I wanted to wait for this…”

  “For what, sweetheart?”

  Josie slipped something into Reese’s hand.

  It felt like a pen or a marker.

  Reese looked down and quickly realized what it was.

  “Shit,” he whispered.

  “Uncle Reese…” Josie said with a laugh. “You’re going to be a father.”

  Brett finished his smoke and flicked it to the ground. The glowing embers scattered away as he exhaled a breath of smoke. He stretched his neck and let the entire day wash off his shoulders. It was sometimes the only way to get through the days. He looked at the end of the lot at the gates and saw the two prospects standing there. They were probably bored out of their minds, but that was okay. Everyone had to start somewhere.

  Feeling a little good about the day, Brett decided to get the grunts a beer. And he wasn’t going to piss in it and make them drink it either.

  Back in the clubhouse, everyone was completely cutting loose. The only person missing was Reese. The VP was preoccupied with Josie and her family’s situation. Which was a good thing. Brett was happy that Steph and the baby were okay. That was something he had no control over. When Prez gave the orders to enforce the MC, Brett and Jason were the two to do it. That meant by any means necessary.

  After ordering three beers, Brett went back outside.

  “Hey, Prez,” he said when he spotted Levi leaning against a pole.

  “Brett. Triple fist?”

  “Nah. I’m going to take the prospects a drink.”

  “Try some coffee,” Levi said and gave a nod.

  Brett looked and saw one of the prospects sitting on the ground.

  He laughed. “Pulling those all-nighters is a bitch when nothing is going down.”

  “That’s the thing, Brett… when it’s quiet… it’s when it’s the most deadly.”

  “I’ll go wake his ass up,” Brett said. “I’ll break a beer bottle over his head.”

  “Why waste the beer?” Levi asked.

  “Good point, Prez.”

  Brett walked along the lot. He gripped the three beer bottles with one hand and stuck his fingers into his mouth with his free hand. He started to whistle and call for the prospects, but they didn’t move.

  “What the fuck? Are they both sleeping?” he asked nobody.

  He got to the end of the lot and shook his head.

  “I was going to give you pricks a dri…”

  Brett lost his words. When he looked down, he saw the prospect sitting on the ground. He wasn’t sleeping. He had a bullet hole in his forehead.

  “Fuck,” he whispered.

  He turned his head and the prospect that was standing… he was only standing because someone had chained him to the iron fence. He too had a bullet hole in his forehead.

  Brett dropped the beer bottles to the ground and cupped his hands around his mouth. His plan was to scream as loud as he could. The club was under attack.

  Before Brett could yell, he felt a hot pain on the back of his right shoulder. He tried to turn, but something smashed against his jaw.

  This was not the way he planned on dying.

  THE END… for now.

  About BDD MC

  Back Down Devil MC was first released in 2014 with OUTLAW REVENGE. Since that time, it’s been sold across the world, reaching chart topping positions with each release, including the coveted Amazon Top 100 Kindle Chart.

  If you enjoyed THE DEVIL’S CURVE, please check out the rest of the BDD MC series here: http://amzn.to/1NUMMvQ

  THERE IS NO READING ORDER FOR THESE BOOKS! THESE ARE LISTED BY DATE OF PUBLICATION!

  Novels

  OUTLAW REVENGE

  CRASH & BURN

  DARK FALL

  SECRET MAYHEM

  TWISTED PIECES

  STEEL TEMPTATION

  SAVAGE LOVE

  VIPER’S KISS

  RUTHLESS HOLD

  AN OUTLAW MONSTER

  OWNED & UNTAMED

  FILTHY KISSES

  AN OUTLAW FOR CHRISTMAS

  STEAL HIS HEART

  BROKEN

  Novellas

  RIDING DARKNESS

  WILD BLAZE

  EMPTY SECRETS

  BROKEN ROAD

>   About the Author

  Stay social with Jaxson:

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/JaxsonKidman

  Newsletter (part of the True Romance Obsession team): http://eepurl.com/b9BDKb

  Email Jax: JaxsonKidman@gmail.com

  Amazon Page: http://amzn.to/2lgfpLG

  Jaxson Kidman is the bestselling author of several novels, including:

  Dear Everly,

  In Her Words,

  5 Years Later

  Anna’s Dress

  Our Last Road

  A Boy I Used to Love

  Secret Exposure

  PLUS MORE!

  Click here to see all the books available: http://amzn.to/2lgfpLG

  Look for his upcoming novel:

  WHEN I’M GONE

  PREVIEW:

  LET YOU GO

  Top 100 ebook worldwide!

  #21 in the ENTIRE Kindle store!

  HUNDREDS of reviews!

  LET YOU GO

  After our first kiss, he moved away.

  After our first time together, he confessed it wasn't his first time.

  After buying me my first drink, he said he was with someone else... but still loved me.

  Now I'm staring at two pink lines on a pregnancy test... and the number he gave me to call?

  It's been disconnected. Great.

  CHAPTER 1:

  Foster

  “What happened to your lip?”

  “Nothing.”

  I watched Everett struggle to move his fingers from one chord to another. He was a lot better on guitar than the day I gave him his first lesson, but he still had a long way to go. I’d love to ride his ass about not practicing enough, but he was a street kid and I knew that that life gave you nothing but time and nothing to do with it.

  “Can I show you a trick?” I asked.

  “Yeah, whatever,” he said.

  His bangs hung over his eyes. He snapped his head to the side and threw his hair back, but it fell forward a second later. He was still boyish and young with bright blue eyes. Probably a young girl’s parents worst nightmare. I told him straight up that when he practiced enough, playing guitar for girls when he was older would definitely pay off.

  I held my guitar and leaned back against my metal chair in the small room in the musty smelling basement of an old church turned coffeehouse. I was lucky enough to know the owner - a guy we called Cheeky because he only smiled when he was in pain. He bought the building for his daughter Stephanie and helped her get it fixed up and running.

  “Watch my fingers, Everett,” I said. “I’m playing my G chord, right? Now watch the transition to the D. Leave your ring finger, lift your pinky, and move your pointer and middle finger down to the second fret…”

  I strummed the chord. A perfect, clean sound.

  Everett bit his tongue as he copied me, making the transition. His chord was a little choppy, meaning he needed to practice holding his fingers steady, pressing harder against the unforgiving strings, and mastering the positioning on the frets to get the best sound.

  “That’s good,” I said.

  “It fucking sucks,” he said.

  I laughed.

  We made a pact when I first met him. I could smoke in the basement and he wouldn’t rat me out, and he could curse as much as he wanted without me busting him on it.

  “What’s wrong, kid?” I asked. I moved the guitar off my lap.

  “I suck at this shit,” he said.

  “No you don’t. Just keep practicing.”

  “I don’t want to. I want to quit.”

  “So then quit,” I said. “Put your guitar in the case. I’ll give you a hundred bucks for it.”

  “You would?”

  “No,” I said. “What’s wrong?”

  From the moment I realized Everett was a kid living on the streets, learning life the hard way, I took to him. I knew I couldn't save him, and I didn’t want to save him, but if I could point out a different path here and there, then I could say at least I tried.

  I reached and grabbed the neck of Everett’s guitar and ripped it away from him. On the back of the cheap wood body, I saw a girl’s name. Amber. It had an X over it though, and under that, another name was carved into the guitar. Sarah xoxo.

  “Girl problems?” I asked.

  “No. Sarah thinks I like her. I don’t.”

  “She carved her name into your guitar. That sounds serious.”

  “Please. I’m sure that’s happened to you before.”

  “Hell no, kid. Nobody touches my guitar but me.”

  Everett’s cheeks burned red.

  I grinned. I slid my foot toward him and kicked his well-worn, scuffed up shoe. “What is it? Don’t piss me off. Not today. I’ve got a gig tonight and I’m working through some new lyrics.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “I hate my name.”

  “What?”

  “Everett. What kind of name is that?”

  “Proud?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “See? That right there. Even a guy like you doesn’t like it. You have a cool name. Foster. That’s really cool.”

  I spun Everett’s guitar around in my hand and leaned it against a workbench that I found in the basement and used to work on guitars. I was sort of a jack of all trades when it came to surviving. Giving guitar lessons. Fixing guitars. Playing gigs that rarely paid in cash, mostly in booze.

  “You do know my name isn’t really Foster, right?”

  “It’s not?”

  “No,” I said. “That’s what I got nicknamed when I was younger.”

  “Why Foster?”

  “Because of how many times I bounced around,” I said. “House to house. Family to family. I just started telling people to call me Foster. You know, for foster kid.”

  “Wow,” Everett said. “Maybe that’s what I need to do.”

  “There you go.”

  “I’m going to be… Viper.”

  “Viper?” I laughed. “Come on, kid. Be real.”

  “How about Throat Punch?”

  “Why not Rhett?”

  “Huh?”

  “Rhett,” I said again. “Short for Everett. So you don’t sound like an old mountain man eating sardines out of a can over an open fire.”

  “See? Fuck. You hate my name.”

  I laughed again. “Rhett is cool. It’s bad ass.”

  “How about Ratt?”

  “Rat?”

  “Ratt with two t’s. Bad ass.”

  “No,” I said. “You call yourself Ratt and I’m going to give you cheese to eat.”

  Everett sighed and rolled his eyes. “Fine. Rhett. How do I get people to call me that?”

  “Respect.”

  “Huh?”

  “Get respect and show that you’re tough.”

  “Pick a fight with someone and win?”

  Yeah, that’s a good idea, kid. Live like I did. But if you want to be really tough, get a gun. Wave that fucking thing around. Almost get put away for years and years…

  “No,” I said. “Learn guitar. Your name is Rhett, and you play guitar.”

  Rhett picked up his guitar and practiced his chords again. This time, he transitioned with ease. Perfectly from a G to a D, back to G and then down to a haunting E minor.

  I smiled and nodded. “There it is. Now we just need to wo-”

  Rhett’s phone beeped in his pocket. He scrambled with a sense of fear to check it as quickly as possible.

  “Shit. My ride is here.”

  “You still have ten minutes, kid,” I said.

  “I have to go. Right now.”

  Rhett hurried to pack up his guitar and notebook.

  At one point, he was damn well shaking. I grabbed his wrist. “Hey. Is everything okay at home?”

  “You know that answer, Foster,” he whispered.

  I nodded.

  I looked at his lip again.

  “That happen at home?”

  “No.”

  Probably a lie.

&n
bsp; Rhett stood and took money out of his back pocket.

  I jumped up and put my hand over his. “Not today. This one’s on me.”

  “You can’t keep giving me free lessons, Foster.”

  “I’ll do what the fuck I want, kid. Take that cash and hide it in your guitar case. Then get yourself something good to eat. Forget about Amber and think about Carrie.”

  “What? Girls…?”

  “Hey, you never know when the right one will pop up and scratch her name on your guitar.”

  “I thought you said nobody ever touches your guitar?” Rhett asked.

  I grinned. I looked up. My heart warmed over in a way that I hated. “Well, there’s only one girl that carved her name into my guitar…”

  READ THE REST OF LET YOU GO HERE: bit.ly/lyg-release

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. (This also includes the cover image and/or cover model(s) appearing on the cover. The context of this book does not in any way depict the personal life of said cover model(s). Image is licensed and used purely for fictional purpose only.)

  First electronic edition April 2018

  Copyright © 2017 by Jaxson Kidman & London Casey

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part of any form.

  Copyright image DepositPhotos

  Copyright cover Cormar Covers