Twisted Steel: An MC Anthology: Second Edition by Elizabeth Knox (top 5 ebook reader txt) 📕

over to sign checks and make the deposit to save her a trip to the bank. Sometimes, if I wasn’t busy, I’d do it more often, because I could be a nice guy when I wanted to be.

That one day a week I signed the checks was also the day I collected the cash from the extracurricular activities that didn’t run through the bar’s till. They were a large source of income.

After signing the checks, I stood.

She opened the safe, handed me the bank deposit, then rolled the chair to the side. I lifted the plastic chair mat and rolled the rug up. The second safe was in the floor under all that shit.

As I pulled the stacks of cash out, I raised a brow. “Damn. Busy week?”

A bark of laughter escaped her. “Yeah, you could say that. Gina’s pretty popular. We get a lot of requests for her private dances.”

“I’d say.” We weren’t pimps, but if the girls wanted to make extra money during their private dances, we got a cut for keeping them protected in case things got crazy. That rarely happened, because one or more of us were often there to help keep things in line. We had good bouncers, trained by Bull, who held shit together when we weren’t around.

The cops looked the other way because half of them were customers and didn’t want their families to know. The others couldn’t prove a damn thing.

“Wendy wanted to know if she could get an occasional customer in the private rooms.”

My gaze locked on her. “You trust her?”

She gave me an eye roll that I wouldn’t have tolerated from many. “Please. Do you think I’d have her working for me if I thought she wasn’t trustworthy?”

“True. Then do what you see fit. Ensure she knows the cut.”

“Will do.” Her eyes trailed over me. “Something different about you.”

“Huh?” I blurted out as I tucked the cash into my inner pockets of my cut.

“You look… different. Can’t put my finger on it, though.” She tapped a bloodred nail to her lip.

“I got a haircut?” I offered.

“No. Not like that. It’s something in your eyes.”

“More wrinkles?” I joked. She glared.

“Boy, you’re the same age as me, so if you start saying you’re old, I’m gonna kick your ass.” I laughed at her exaggerated snarl. She’d had a bit of a rough life, so she definitely didn’t sport a youthful glow, but other than smoking, she took care of herself.

“Boy? If we’re the same age, which I know we are, how are you gonna call me boy?” I tried to hide my grin. Zena was fun to spar with, but we’d never taken it further than that. She’d offered in the past, but I’d been with Cammie. Zena had never offered again. Not even after Cammie left.

“Well, I figure if I can convince you that you’re a boy, then it means I’m young too!” She chortled at her humor. Though I wanted to roll my eyes, her laughter was infectious.

“I gotta go, babe. Anything else you need from me?”

“Yeah, the Blue room needs new speakers. Two of them are all crackly.”

“I’ll have Soap come over to check on it.”

“Mmm, maybe someone else. Unless you have him come early. Like way early.” I gave her a curious glance, and my eyes narrowed.

“Why? He do something I should know about?” At my question, she looked slightly uncomfortable. She wouldn’t meet my gaze, and she shifted from foot to foot.

“He kinda lost his shit the other night.”

“Kinda?” I crossed my arms and raised a brow as I waited for her to elaborate.

“Yeah. Tash was dancing, and some dude got handsy. Bull would’ve handled it, but he didn’t get a chance. Soap was all over the dude—hauled him outside and would’ve beat the dog shit out of him if Bo wasn’t coming in from his break and stopped him.” She looked worried.

“Had he been drinking?” I already knew the answer, but I needed verification. She closed her eyes and sighed.

“He always does. First drink starts the minute Tash takes the stage, and he doesn’t quit.”

“Goddamn it. I’ll deal with him,” I promised before I grabbed the bank bag.

“What I don’t understand is why he doesn’t just claim her and get her ass outta here,” Zena said.

It was my turn to sigh. “I don’t know,” I lied. It wasn’t my story to tell.

We said our goodbyes, and I left for the bank, then headed home.

When I pulled into the lot of the clubhouse, I frowned. There was a cruiser parked in front of the doors.

Not wasting time, I got off my bike and tugged off my helmet. I hung it on the handlebar, finger-combed my hair back, and stood.

Stepping into the dim, cool interior, I saw the broad back of a sheriff’s deputy talking to Vinny and Hacker.

“Is there a problem?” I asked. Baker turned to face me, and I saw the lines between his brows.

“You got a minute?” he asked in his deep baritone.

“Yeah, let’s go in my office.” Baker nodded, and they all followed me down the hall.

“You on the clock or off?” It was my way of asking if this was an official or unofficial visit.

“Off.”

I nodded.

“They found the girl from the Leon.” His eyes went back and forth as he looked from one of my eyes to the other. I didn’t like the fact that he didn’t say they found her safe.

Baker was a tough bastard. I’d known him all my life. The way his face was ashen and the lines framed the edge of his mouth wasn’t a common look for him. The fact that he palmed his jaw and scrubbed over his mouth was disconcerting as well.

“You gonna tell me the details?” I asked, tired of waiting. Knowing it was bad, I grabbed the shot glasses and whiskey from my drawer. While I waited for his response, I poured us each a shot.

Keeping one for myself, I slid the rest across the desk.

Baker’s shoulders slumped a bit, and he reached for