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

against his side. “Magenta, meet the Hell’s Fury MC—also known as The Order of the Dragons.”

She’d heard they were Dragons, but not the story behind the name. Their club patch on the back of their cuts was a black dragon’s head on a red ground with Hell’s Fury MC above it and Las Vegas Chapter below.

“You’ve probably seen us all at one time or another,” he continued, “but this is our President, Stone. Our Vice President, Inferno. Ryder, Maverick, Mayhem, Smoke, Chaos, Blaze, Cookie, and Eagle Eye. Oh, and Chaya, Eagle Eye’s wolfdog. The rest of the guys are at Doc’s, keeping things safe.”

The men were all tall, cut, and as good looking as Quake. The black wolf hybrid was massive. Just guessing, she’d say he was a hundred and twenty pounds or so. Rory was glad to see the shaggy beast offer her a doggie smile and loll his tongue.

The men were all curious, she could tell. When no one grilled her or asked questions, she figured she could thank Stone for that. He must have ordered them to stand down and give her space, because, to a man, that’s what they did.

Excusing themselves, Quake put his hand on the small of her back and guided her to the staircase, stopping at a door halfway down the second-floor hall. Opening it, he reached in far enough to flip on the overhead light and held the door for her to step inside.

His room was much nicer than she expected, styled like an upscale rustic retreat with warm wood paneling, beamed ceilings, and a window that faced the back of the property. A dark-colored quilt covered a king-sized bed with a headboard that screamed kink. A small desk held a computer.

A stand in the corner cradled an electric guitar.

“Do you play?” she asked, curious to see this side of him.

Her question made him blush, which she found adorable.

“Some,” he admitted humbly.

“What’s your favorite?

“Heavy metal. Acid rock. Hair bands. Classic rock. Blues. Not a big fan of disco, hip-hop, or rap and you can forget Country, but AC/DC, Guns and Roses, Stevie Ray Vaughn . . . .”

“Wow.” If he played Stevie Ray Vaughn, he must be good. “Maybe I can talk you into a private concert sometime.”

She made it sound like she was kidding but she was serious. She’d love to hear Quake play something for her.

Yawning widely, she smothered it with her hand. Exhaustion was seeping in.

“Another day,” he smiled. “It’s close enough to when Doc said you could sleep. No offense, but you look like you need it.”

Rory wasn’t going to argue.

Moving to a wooden dresser, he tugged a drawer open and pulled out a folded T-shirt. “Here.”

Shaking her head, she started to strip. “Thanks, but I prefer to sleep naked.”

Tossing the garment back in with the others, Quake moved to the bed, peeling back the blankets and turning on the bedside lamp for her. “You go ahead. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Shimmying out of her sweatpants, she watched him cross the room to another door. Rory got a glimpse of an ensuite bathroom before he vanished inside.

Padding naked to the bed, she slipped beneath the blankets with a soft sigh. It felt good. Really good. Better than the dirt floor where she’d spent last night.

Remembering the darkness and the sense of claustrophobia, she shuddered.

“Hey, you okay?” Quake questioned as he emerged from the bathroom and caught her reaction. Gloriously naked, he was breathtaking to behold.

Why did all the gargoyles around here have to look so gorgeous?

Rory sighed when he turned off the overhead light and joined her.

“It’s good to be in a bed, that’s all,” she admitted, cuddling into his side when he raised his arm to let her snuggle close. “After I tried to escape, they made me sleep in a pit.”

Quake’s lips brushed her forehead. “I’m here if you wanna talk about it.”

“It was bad.”

His arms tightened around her. “Duchess, nothing you say is going to make me look at you any differently.”

Raising her head, Rory rested her chin on his pec so she could meet his gaze. “And which way is that?”

“You’re strong,” he murmured. “A survivor. I’ve seen you stare down customers at The Pole Barn whenever they’ve gotten too close. Watched how you’ve stepped up and defended the other women who work there. You do whatever it takes when a situation calls for it.”

“Phantom and Khan . . .” Her gaze slid from his. “They did things to me.”

“And the others?” Quake questioned.

Rory frowned. “The other Death’s Heads? Some of them touched me but they didn’t . . .”

“So I only need to kill Khan.”

Eyes widening, she snapped her attention back to meet his gaze. He was deadly serious. “You’d do that for me?”

Lips curving up at the corners, he smiled. “I’d burn their whole fucking club to the ground for you, duchess. They don’t deserve to live after touching you without your permission.”

“Quake, I’m an exotic dancer. A whore . . . .”

Cupping her jaw, he silenced her words by pressing his thumb against her lips. “That doesn’t give anyone the right to take what isn’t given freely or consensual. You might sell your body, but it’s your choice who you take as a lover and what you let them do.”

“I tried to escape . . . ,” Rory whispered. Tears threatening, she blinked them back.

“You’re free now. Here. Safe.” Removing his thumb, he replaced it with his lips in a sweet, tender kiss. “Let’s get some sleep. You look ready to drop.”

He reached for the bedside lamp, but she grabbed his arm before he could switch it off.

“Please,” she begged. The thought of losing the light made her chest so tight, it hurt to breathe. “Can you . . . can we keep it on?”

Quake searched her face for a moment before nodding. “Sure, I don’t mind.”

“Thanks.” Rory hated that the dark would remind her of the pit. She was scared she’d end up back there and find this was