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

my head as two women slid down the hallway from Cobra’s room. The blonde rolled her eyes, and the redhead stopped about five feet from me.

“He isn’t all that great if it makes any difference to you.” She tried to console me, running her fake press-on nails along the dustpan’s handle as she held it, waiting for me to sweep the dirt onto it.

“Makes no difference to me, honey.” I casually brushed her off, glaring down at her from where I stood. Typically, I would’ve jumped her ass for thinking she had even one ounce of freedom of speech in this house, but I promised King I wouldn’t cause a scene when Cobra and I split and remained true to the agreement now, even if I wanted to stomp their asses for the sheer fact of disrespect.

“Sorry, Granny. We didn’t mean to rattle your wrinkles.” She swiftly opened her grasp, and the dustpan clattered against the floor, making an unnecessary upset for this time of the morning as she idiotically laughed to herself, “We didn’t know his pretty dick is spoken for.”

“It’s not!” I barked, unintentionally baring my teeth and ground them into my lower lip to stop the rest of my statement from finding life. With a deep breath, I scooped the pan’s handle into my palm and curled my fingers around it one at a time for added dramatics, my eyes never straying from hers.

“Careful,” the blonde warned, adjusting her sad excuse for a shirt and, out of the clear irritation bubbling through her insides, flipped her wrist outward with an exasperated huff.

Just as I got to my feet and tucked my thumb over my knuckles, footsteps approached from behind us, and what I am about to do pulsated through my body and turned into recognition. Over something so trivial, I’m about to break my promise to King, but they lacked the reverence that should be given in this house. The way they spoke of Cobra alone is enough for me to stomp their asses. Fuck. I sucked in a deep breath as adrenaline crashed over my body in a tidal wave.

“What the fuck did you just say, bitch?” Lathe shouted, cracking his neck while flames of hatred bolted out of his eyes in their direction.

“Do you fuckin’ little bitches think your opinion means a thing in my house?” He paused as his southern drawl thickened. He spat the pissed-off statement out of his mouth while stuffing a cigarette in between his lips, right after he licked them, and eyed his fingers that shook as he cupped a matchbox from the pocket of his shirt. He struck the match against the box, waiting for one of them to open their ludicrous mouths, slowly holding the new fire to the end, and his eyes briefly closed. At this point, I hope one of them is smart enough to understand that his question is rhetorical. Lathe didn’t smoke often. He always carried a pack on him but never smoked unless he’s getting ready to fuck shit up. He’s on the edge of going fucking belligerent, which is how he earned his road name, Lathe. A lathe machine might be slow and sedentary, but once the bit dropped into the precise position needed in that exact moment, shit is on point.

I wanted to react, oh fuck did I ever, but knowing Lathe like I did, I only smiled. The only thing racing through my body is sympathy for those clueless girls. They didn’t know who they were up against. Lathe’s protection over me is his default, but aggression is his hard set. The little fucker might have stood a good five inches below most of the brothers, but his mean streak couldn’t be measured. There is a reason I thought of him as family. We both were instinctively hostile.

The redhead stepped forward, and just as her lips parted, he shook his head, and his feet froze as soon as they met the floor again. “Not even in the least, you fucking idiots! Do you see that woman right there? The one you disrespected. She calls them like she sees them. If you all know what’s good for you, you’ll leave before she loses her shit because when she cries, the whole club hears her tenfold, bitches. Ears to the ground, you fucking cock teases. Do you understand who you just insulted? She’s my fucking mom, and trust me, no one trumps what the house mom says. I love that fucking bitch more than life and would slash your fucking juggler just to please her. That’s who you are up against.” He took a step toward them, squaring his shoulders, and cracked his knuckles against each other.

The blonde’s hip popped out, and one of her hands landed on the dip in her side. Her other hand flew into the air with attitude.

He cocked his head sideways and slowly blinked his eyelids in disbelief. “Are you fucking stupid? I’m serious. Do you see any other female in here that didn’t just ride a dick for validation like you just did? No. The two of you are doing the walk of shame out of here, dick fresh on your breath. Guess what?” He wiped his fingers over his mouth and smoked billowed outward from his lips as he clamped the cigarette between two fingers and sharply pointed them to where I stood. “That bitch right there is a Chained Rebel. No one fucks with her, period!”

“Get the fuck out!” he yelled, unlocking the door, and nodding as the light of the day skirted across the club’s floor.

The girls stopped in front of him deep in thought, and I chuckled, sweeping the dirt onto the dustpan, and emptying it into the trash.

“This is as much her house as it is mine. Get that shit straight right fucking now. When it boils down to brass tacks, you’re both nothing more than a warm muffin for a cock. News flash. Let me shine a light on your