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

A wicked smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Well, I do that regardless. You’re right. But fuck, what I mean is, I don’t want any of those fucking clubwhores. Don’t you get that? I don’t know what else I can do to prove it to you, Mouse.”

“Keep doing it?”

7

Cobra

In a sense, tonight is the night that I prove to Mouse she’s the only old lady for me. The new MC in town rescheduled their big shindig to now, something about their clubhouse having a leaky pipe or some shit. In reality, I didn’t give a damn about the reason when the redhead from a couple months back told me about the new date. I only half-listened. She kept trying to convince me to go into the walk-in freezer for head. I would be a liar if I didn’t admit her offer to be tempting, knowing how good she was at it, but that was something the old me would do. Not the person who I am trying to be. I promptly shut her down and thanked her for the information, reporting it back to my brothers.

I had to hand it to them; their clubhouse is pretty damn nice, especially since they have not been in Blackwell as long as we have. I recognize some of the brothers who wore the Dogs patch from Glas’ club, The Den. A handful of them I even know by name. Perhaps this isn’t going to be as shitty as all of us Rebels predicted.

“Dad, this is Cobra,” the redhead purrs as her pointer finger lands on my bicep and playfully taps. I stop myself from physically gagging; she’s the type of woman I need alcohol to be around. Mindless and a waste of my time.

Mouse clears her throat in response.

“That is . . .”

“Mouse, this is Mouse.” I quickly introduce her to them, and she forces a smile onto her face.

“Damn.” He whistles, taking Mouse’s gorgeous body in, and basically eye-fucks her. “You’re a sight for these old eyes.” He admires. “Buy me a drink?” He nods toward the bar and holds his arm out for her to take, leading us into the clubhouse.

My blood boils, and I almost flatten his ass for it but notice his President patch. Mouse’s eyes flicker to mine, and after a slight nod of my head, she does as he asks. There’s one thing you don’t do in another man’s clubhouse, and that’s disrespect the President. Mouse holds a place in our club, but that isn’t always the case in others. A lot of clubs don’t tolerate women to be as liberal as Mouse can be inside ours. The CRMC only patches in men as official members. Judging by the lack of women wearing actual patches and not ‘property of’ ones, I’m guessing this club is the same.

The redhead whose patch reads “Baby Girl” winks at me, and I shake my head. This bitch is relentless and not to mention left out a key detail when telling me all about this party. Her dad is the president of the MC. If she would have told me, I’m betting I could have pried a fair amount of stuff out of her about the club. Doesn’t really matter now, though. We are here, and physically seeing what is going on behind their doors gives us Rebels the upper hand just in case we would ever need it. It’s hard to tell when one of them might get a hair sideways in their ass and try something stupid. It’s happened before, Memphis, Glas’ brother, is proof of that. The idiot got cocky and brought meth into our clubhouse without Bad’s permission, add that along with what he did to Scar, and I left that sack of shit without a pulse.

We four arrive at the bar and drop each of our happy asses on a barstool. I pull out a couple of fifties and hand them to the member serving us. “This should cover us for a little while,” I say in a low disinterested voice, folding my arms over one another on top of the sleek wood.

“What can I get you?”

Mouse and I exchange a knowing look. “We’ll have whatever he’s having.”

“Appreciate that,” the President says. “Not too many of these newer bikers have the respect you’re supposed to have for another club’s president anymore. When Baby Girl told me you were coming, I was wondering if you would wear your cut.”

“Don’t leave home without it,” I mumble, seeing now this night is going to be pretty damn uneventful. Hopefully, Mouse and I can kill a few drinks with this man and dip out as quick as possible. Judging by the death glare Mouse has on her face, I can already tell if we are here too long, she’s going to retaliate against Baby Girl for disrespecting her. I have to give Mouse mad respect, though. If the roles were in reversal, I would have laid Baby Girl’s ass out for touching me as soon as we got here.

“I hear ya. Me either.”

The squirrely looking fucker behind the bar gives us all silver beer cans, and after a quick lift of our cans, we all drink.

I’ve been off my game dealing with all the shit with Mouse. It hasn’t been too difficult to stay true to my word to her. I never particularly wanted to chase all the strange pussy, but it isn’t like I’m the one doing the chasing. The sweet asses do. Once I made it clear to all of them coming and going, I didn’t want anything to do with them, word spread pretty fast. Panhead is more than happy to take care of their needs. Fucker is the only person I know who has been treated for syphilis more than one time.

“It was all pretty damn boring,” I tell Bad over the speakerphone, pulling the shirt over my head and dropping onto the