2020 Piper Davenport
Copyright © 2020 Trixie Publishing, Inc.
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States
Calling the Biker’s Bluff is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Cover Art
Jack Davenport
Cover Model
Jeff Button
Photographer
Wander Aguiar
CONTENTS
Copyright
Praise
Acknowledgements
Back Blurb
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
Bound by Sight
Book List
Reading Order
About Piper
All it took was one page and I was immediately hooked on Piper Davenport’s writing. Her books contain 100% Alpha and the perfect amount of angst to keep me reading until the wee hours of the morning. I absolutely love each and every one of her fabulous stories. ~ Anna Brooks – Contemporary Romance Author
Get ready to fall head over heels! I fell in love with every single page and spent the last few wishing the book would never end! ~ Harper Sloan, NY Times & USA Today Bestselling Author
Piper Davenport just reached deep into my heart and gave me every warm and fuzzy possible. ~ Geri Glenn, Author of the Kings of Korruption MC Series
This is one series I will most definitely be reading!! Great job Ms. Davenport!! I am in love!! ~ Tabitha, Amazeballs Book Addicts
Liz Kelly:
Thanks again. Your insight is always so spot on!
Jack:
Thanks for being my muse, and really great in bed!
Gail
You are a scholar and a saint, and I ADORE you!
Brandy
Thanks for keeping the timelines and characters straight. You are godsend!
Mary
Thanks for always being available to read! Even last minute. I appreciate you so much!
18+ for language and sexual situations.
Otter
It was supposed to be an easy job. Fast money with no complications. Then she showed up and changed the game. Now I have to decide whether to hold my cards close to the cut, or go all in and risk losing everything.
Shiloh
I am the lucky bearer of one dumbass older brother who fancies himself a high-roller. I should disown him, but he’s my only family, and when he’s not on a losing streak, he’s pretty decent. But now, he’s dragged me into a world I have no business being a part of, and I see no way out.
But then Otter steps to the table and I must decide if I cash out or ante up.
For Kathleen Kelly
You’ve been a wonderful friend and ally this year and I appreciate you more than you will ever know!
Otter
I HAD A rare afternoon ‘off.’ Meaning, I had a rare four hours where I didn’t have club business, or any other kind of business, and could focus on my metal work. I headed out to the shop and geared up, grinning at my current creation. I was in the middle of a sculpture that I was actually loving. It had been a long time since I’d created something for myself, and although I had a long list of client requests, I’d been inspired last week and ran with it.
I had just lit the torch and lowered my mask when my president, Doc, yelled my name. I frowned, shutting everything off and raising my mask. “Yeah?”
“Jordy’s runnin’ a game tonight. He asked if you’d work it.”
I sighed. Jordy Blain was a man who ran a few illegal games around town. On occasion, our club would help out with security, only because the man paid well.
“I’m in the middle of somethin’, Doc. Can he find someone else?”
“He’s offerin’ you fifty-grand and giving the club ten.”
“Jesus, high rollers?”
Doc nodded. “Sounds like it. He wants your expertise as much as your brawn, I think.”
I had been raised in Vegas by a family of card sharks. I’d learned to count cards before I learned to count to ten, and if I wanted to live a life of poker games and pussy, I’d make millions.
But I didn’t.
I’d visited Savannah over ten years ago and didn’t leave. I’d fallen in love with the southern hospitality and chose Harleys instead of cards, of course, never foregoing the pussy.
“What time does he need me there?” I asked.
“Nine.”
That gave me two hours to work, and an hour to clean up and get to the game. “Yeah, tell him I’ll do it.”
“Thanks, brother.”
I nodded, lowering my mask, and relighting my torch.
* * *
Pulling up to the private parking lot under the building, I backed my bike into a spot, then pulled my suit jacket from my saddlebag. Replacing my club leather for Armani, I slid my phone and keys into my pocket and headed inside.
Upstairs, Blurr was booming. I doubted the nightclub patrons had any idea there was illegal gambling happening below them, but Jordy kept a tight lid on both clubs. There were two floors separating the gambling from the dancing and the games were locked down tight.
A bouncer I didn’t recognize stood outside the entrance to the games. Other than the burly man guarding the door, you would think it was a door to a utility closet.
“No entry,” the man said.
“Easton Ottenheimer,” I replied. “Jordy’s expectin’ me.”
My birth name was foreign on my tongue, considering I had gone by Otter for more than ten years.
He pushed open the door. “Right. I’m Vinnie.”
I gave him a chin lift and walked past him into a hallway that was lit with one red lightbulb. I continued straight, entering the code on the panel on the wall, then a secret door slid open, allowing me into the room. Tonight’s set-up included roulette, blackjack, and four coveted poker tables with a hundred-grand buy-in per game.
“Otter!” Jordy greeted me with a huge grin on his face. “I’m so glad you could come.”
“I bet.” I smirked. “Big spenders tonight, I heard.”
He grinned. “One hundred grand buy-in, plus twenty-grand just to get a seat at the table.”
“Who’s at the table?”
“Atticus Artrope and Buford Davis.”
“Are you fuckin’ high?” I ground out. “Do you really wanna get into bed with the Dixie Mafia, Jordy?”
One of the worst things about the Dixie Maf
ia was that they weren’t organized or loyal to anyone, which meant they didn’t have a moral code. No honor among thieves type thing. There was no honor, period.
“I’m not gettin’ into bed.” He grinned. “It’s just a little over the clothes heavy petting.”
“Jesus,” I hissed. “You’re a fuckin’ mad man.”
He laughed. “I’m a rich fuckin’ mad man.”
“Hey, Dad,” a young man greeted Jordy, virtually bounding into the room. “Are Beau and I in?”
“Haven’t got the final count.”
“But we’re ready,” he whined.
“Tuck, you’re being rude. Meet Easton,” Jordy said. “Easton, my son, Tuck.”
I gave the kid a chin lift. ‘Kid’ probably wasn’t entirely accurate, because he wasn’t much younger than me, but he seemed entitled and immature.
“Nice to meet you,” Tuck said, then turned back to his father. “How long until we know?”
“An hour.”
He huffed. Like a fuckin’ four-year-old. I had to look away.
“Fine,” Tuck said, and stomped out of the room.
“Sorry about that,” Jordy said. “The boy is almost thirty and thinks he’s due everything. His mama’s influence.”
I highly doubted his mother created that mess, but I kept that opinion to myself.
“Let me give you a rundown of the players and their known traits.”
I nodded and we spent the next hour mapping out the room, figuring out the best seating arrangement, making sure to accommodate Atticus and Buford’s need to be close to the bar.
“I think we’re ready,” Jordy said. “I’ll let Tuck know he and his friend are in and we’ll open the door.”
I nodded, taking a minute to scan the room, then another to get to know the servers and bartenders, before standing against the wall by the entrance and taking stock of every person who walked in. They all had their buy-in and their cover charge, which were counted and verified by three bouncers.
Everyone had followed the rules, so Jordy deemed the games open and the men took their seats, while some of the women they’d brought as eye candy played roulette or blackjack.
For the next hour, I walked the room, watching quietly, but noticing Tuck and Beau were up to something, I decided to hover by their table. The little shits were cheating. Not only counting cards but signaling to each other. I didn’t know what they were signaling, but it was neither subtle nor smart.
I caught Jordy’s eye and signaled for him to meet me in the back. We walked back separately in an effort not to raise suspicions, and I closed the door behind us. “Tuck and his buddy are countin’ cards.”
“My son doesn’t cheat.”
“Well, I’m telling you he and his friend are. What you want to do with that information is up to you, but you better hope no one else notices.”
A rather feral scream indicated I’d spoken too soon.
Rushing back into the room, Jordy and I arrived to find Tuck seated in his chair, a knife handle sticking out of his thigh. I didn’t know how long the blade was, considering you couldn’t see any of it.
“Dad!” he screamed.
“This bastard is cheating,” the man with the knife accused. I believe his name was Bobby Joe Waller and he appeared to not only have the ability to use a knife, but also how to hide it from security.
“My leg!” Tuck squealed, grabbing the handle.
“Don’t fuckin’ touch that and don’t move,” I warned. “You’ll make it worse.”
“How the fuck did you get a knife in here?” Jordy demanded
I saw Beau stand slowly and attempt to sidle out of the room, but a bouncer shook his head, removed his gun from his holster, and pointed it at Beau. “I don’t think so.”
“If anyone was cheating, it was him,” Jordy accused. “Take care of him.”
“No, wait!” Beau snapped, raising his hands in surrender.
“Just pull the fucking knife out, man,” Tuck screamed.
“No!” I warned.
“Why wait?” Jordy asked.
“Because that knife looks like it’s dangerously close to an artery and he could lose his leg, or worse, bleed to death if we take that knife out,” Beau said. “I know a doctor. She can come right now and fix Tuck’s leg. No questions asked.”
Well, this just got interesting.
“Call her,” Jordy demanded.
* * *
Shiloh
I had just finished my fourth twelve-hour shift in a row, climbing into my car almost on autopilot and starting the engine. I had the next three days off and I planned to sleep. I was about to back out of my parking space when my phone rang. It was my brother. I sighed, rubbing my hand over my forehead. If he was calling me at two a.m., it wasn’t because he was calling to say hi.
“BoBo, I’ve had a long day—”
“I need you to come to Blurr,” he said, sounding frantic. “Now. Bring your kit.”
“What’s going on?” I demanded. “Are you hurt?”
“No, not me. Tuck.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“He got knifed in the leg.”
“I am a neonatal nurse, Beau, how the hell am I going to help Tuck who has a knife wound?”
“Well, if you don’t figure it out, my body will be dumped in the river.”
“Oh my god, what have you done?” I squeaked, already pulling onto the freeway in the direction of Blurr.
“It’s not really important,” he hedged.
“I swear to god, Beau Theodore Abernathy, I will kill you myself if you don’t start talking.”
“I can’t,” he said. “Will you just get here, please? Pull around the back and a bouncer will meet you.”
“Fine,” I hissed out.
“Thanks, sis.”
I hung up, then did a mental inventory of my ‘kit.’ My brother was lucky I had just restocked a few common emergency type things, but it’s not like I had a surgical suite. Or a degree for that matter. I was an RN, a gifted one according to the doctors I worked with, but I was not a surgeon, so I was limited.
Pulling around the back of the nightclub, I popped my trunk and climbed out of my car just as a very large, very scary man walked up to me. “You the doctor?”
I didn’t want to lie, so I lifted my bag without answering his question. “Are you going to take me to the patient?”
“Yeah, follow me.”
I closed my trunk and we walked through a back door and down two flights of stairs. I swear, I felt like I was being dragged into the pits of hell. It didn’t help that we walked into a hallway lit with a red lightbulb. Lord, this was seriously terrifying.
The bouncer entered numbers on a keypad and a wall, that was really a door, slid open to reveal a huge room that looked much like a Vegas casino.
“Shy!” Beau called. “Over here.”
I scowled at my big brother and headed that way. Standing sentry was one of the biggest and best-looking men I’d ever seen. Good god, he was like a modern-day Norse god. His dark-caramel hair was swept back to reveal green eyes that I could melt in, and he had a beard that I would be happy to spend a few hours running my fingers through. His shirt strained against his ridiculously muscled arms, as he held onto a man who I assumed was the one who’d caused the injury.
I set my bag on the table next to Tuck and surveyed the damage. I’d met Tuck a sum total of twice. He was kind of a douche, as were most of my brother’s ‘friends,’ so I didn’t tend to hang around them much.
“Okay, let’s have a look,” I said, pulling gloves on. “This is going to hurt, but I need to see what was hit.” I studied Tuck who was sobbing. “I need you not to move. Okay?”
Tuck squeezed his eyes closed and nodded.
“You ready?”
He nodded again and I gently felt around the knife. “This isn’t something I’m equipped to deal with.” I sighed. “You’re going to need surgery, Tuck. We need to get you to a hospital.”
&nbs
p; “No hospitals,” the older man standing next to the Viking growled.
“Sir, he could have permanent damage if he doesn’t see a surgeon. Not to mention, this could have nicked the femoral artery and could bleed out.”
“They will ask questions,” he countered. “I am paid for discretion.”
“I know a place,” the Viking said. “But just me, Tuck, and the doc go.”
“My sister isn’t going anywhere with you alone,” Beau demanded.
“Yeah, well, you’re not goin’ anywhere until Tuck’s delivered back here whole,” the older man said. “So, you go and deal with this, and I’ll make sure Beau here stays comfortable.”
I shivered, glaring at my brother.
He returned a pleading look.
“I’m deleting your number from my phone,” I hissed.
“Pull the knife out!” Tuck squealed.
“No!” I snapped. “Don’t. You could bleed out. I’m going to wrap the knife with sterile gauze to stabilize it so we can move you.”
The Viking nodded to the bouncer who’d led me inside and he took over watching the perpetrator of the crime. My Norse god smiled gently at me. “I’m Otter,” he said for my ears only.
I nodded. “Shiloh.”
“I’ll hold him while you do your thing.”
“Okay.” I grabbed gauze from my bag and did my best to pad the wound, then we worked together to secure it.
Otter lifted the man as easily and carefully as he would a child and moved to leave the room, nodding for me to follow. I rushed to keep up, following the sounds of Tuck’s squeals.
“We’ll have to take your car,” he said. “I rode tonight.”
“Rode?”
“Harley.”
“Oh,” I said on a breath. He owned a Harley? Shit, I was in trouble. “Okay.”
I moved in front of him, leading him to my car where he gently lay Tuck in the back, sitting beside him so he could keep his leg steady, while I climbed into the front seat.
“Okay, Otter, where am I going?” I asked.
Calling the Biker's Bluff (Dogs of Fire MC: Savannah Chapter Book 7) Page 1
