Page 41 of Knox (The Devil’s Luck MC #6)

Even Jackson and Grant were pretty chatty. A part of me was really glad to see Grant upbeat. I didn’t know if it was just an act to hide how upset he still was over Gabriel, but as long as he wasn’t in some deep funk, that was all that mattered.

I chugged half my beer and looked at Caroline, still laughing at Tex’s shut-down of Abel’s exaggerated explanation of one of the fights at the warehouse.

My grin faded. She looked like a puppy left out in the rain, and had barely touched her drink—made personally by Sam.

“Care,” I said quietly, the rest of the Devils fading into the background.

“Hm?”

“You look miserable.”

“Am not.”

“Are so. Come here.”

With one arm, I pulled her out of her chair and into my lap. She halfheartedly resisted, embarrassed, but once I had both arms around her torso, resting on her thighs, she settled, relaxing for the first time since… Well, I wasn’t sure when.

I caught Sam’s eye. She was smiling softly, winking encouragingly. I gave her a wink back.

Jackson saw the exchange and thumped his glass on the table to get everyone’s attention. Everyone shut their traps and looked at our fearless leader.

“We’ve been through every level of hell these past few years,” he said, his voice heavy with the weight of loss, anger, fear, joy, and everything else in between.

“Together and personally. I want each of you bastards to know how grateful I am. The Devil’s Luck was built on brotherhood, loyalty, survival, and chosen family.

” He looked at Sam tucked under his arm, hands on her belly.

“And for the women who went through hell with us.”

Sam blushed. “Even when they get their bar burned down.”

That got a few chuckles.

Mason picked up where Jackson left off, looking at Suzie like she owned his heart.

“We lost and loved.” He lifted his beer and met the eyes of each member—even Caroline—and said, “To Will. We’re less without him, but his memory lives on, making us better, too.

Bates took him, so we took Bates. The war’s finally fucking over. ”

The VP’s voice cracked on those last words. The rest of us lifted our drinks in a somber toast.

Grant cleared his throat, tipping his bottle higher. “To Gabriel. My best friend. He gave his life for his brothers. He would’ve been alongside us in that damn warehouse laughing his head off like a hyena. He’ll be remembered for his shitty humor and reckless bravery.”

My throat tightened, and I toasted again to carve Gabriel’s lopsided grin into my memory.

There was a beat of silence, and then Jackson spoke again, with somehow even more weight to his tone.

“To Caroline.”

Caroline sat ramrod straight. But Jackson didn’t say more.

Just the nod toward her and the small toast said it all—how grateful he had become for her.

For coming to her senses and being brave enough to do something about it.

For trusting the Devils when she had no reason to.

For standing up and saving Mason. For making sure Gabriel didn’t die in vain.

My hand found hers, and I squeezed it reassuringly. That’s my girl.

Sam got up—with a bit of support from Jackson—to move her seat next to Caroline’s. I let her off my lap. She immediately got emotional when Sam put an arm around her shoulders and said, “Welcome to the Devil’s Luck, Caroline.”

To that, everyone toasted again, muttering or smiling genuine approval—a formal acceptance, no initiation necessary. She’d more than proved herself worthy just by shooting Vane’s dick off postmortem.

Then Abel said, “Shit! Wait. No. Not yet she’s not.”

I immediately got defensive. “Why not?”

Abel grinned at my reaction, then tipped his head at the Wolverine patch tattoo on the back of her neck exposed by her lower ponytail. “Not until that ugly bitch is a Devil’s Luck skull and shamrock.”

Caroline’s hand flew to her neck, hiding the ugly mark, and she looked at me. “Is that offer still valid?”

I leaned forward to kiss her. “Any day, any time, baby.”

An hour later, most of the guys and some of the women were tipsy or drunk. I only had two beers—I had one goal in mind.

Take Caroline to my apartment.

She was deep in conversation with Sam now, a hidden chatty side of her exposed. Sam seemed to be coming around to getting along with the woman who caused her so much pain in the past. Suzie, Elle, and Carrie were more hesitant, but at least they weren’t shooting her nasty looks.

“Care,” I said. “You want to head to my place?”

Sam gracefully made her return to her spot next to Jackson as Caroline turned to me, surprised. “Back to the trailer?”

I laughed and shook my head. “No. That place’ll never see anyone’s ass ever again. I got a real place I want to take you to.”

She smirked. “Oh, no, poor Harlon’s legacy.”

“Tragic,” I agreed, pulling us to our feet.

We said our boisterous goodbyes and headed out to my bike. I patted the sleek body. “Missed ya, bud.” I got on and patted my seat behind me. “Saddle up, woman.”

Caroline climbed on, arms around my torso, and we pulled out of the gravel lot.

Both of us felt freer than we had in years.