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

Cole puts his gloved hand around the dude’s neck and squeezes. “Next time I have to come deliver this message, you won’t be breathing when I leave, understand?”

The guy manages to nod, his eyes bulging out of his face and his skin tone turning blue before Cole finally releases him. He slumps unconscious to the floor.

Cole approaches the girl, who is now bug-eyed and squirming in Shane’s tight hold. He gets right in her face. “Am I gonna regret letting you live when I walk out of here?”

Shane pulls his hand away so she can respond.

“N-no, sir.”

“Good answer,” Cole replies. He takes in the dump and the loser on the floor, before turning back to her. “You’re a pretty girl. Don’t waste your life on this shit-for-brains asshole.” Then he jerks his chin to Shane, who releases her.

Cole stalks out the door and we all follow. I catch Crash out of the corner of my eye. He grabs the dude’s wallet off the coffee table, yanks all the bills out, and slaps them to the chick’s chest. “Listen to the man. Take this and get on the first bus out of town. Understand?”

She nods vigorously, and whispers, “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me, just help your fucking self.”

We move downstairs, mount up, and head back to our clubhouse in San Jose.

Rolling back onto the lot, we climb from our bikes and stretch. I rub my shoulder where I slammed into the concrete and Wolf chuckles.

“Bro, you’re losin’ your touch. Used to be you could skinny up a drainpipe like a damn monkey.”

I rub the spot. “Suck my dick.”

We walk in the clubhouse, my brothers laughing. I’m barely through the door when a prospect approaches me.

“Someone’s here to see you, Green,” he says, jerking his chin toward a woman moving from the bar toward me. Dressed in jeans and high-heeled stylish boots, a turtleneck sweater with a gold medallion belt around her hips, she doesn’t look her age. My mom is still rockin’ it even in her late fifties.

I hear Red Dog give her a wolf-whistle, and she glances over and winks at him, but when her gaze snaps back to mine, I realize I fucked up.

I close my eyes and curse, immediately remembering I was supposed to be somewhere this afternoon. Shit. I can’t believe I let something so important slide. I imagine if I pull out my phone and check it, I’ll find a bunch of missed calls and texts. That’s the downside of riding a loud-ass Harley, and sometimes the upside, depending how you look at it.

“You missed the reading of the will,” she says, stopping before me.

My brothers overhear that and immediately fade off.

I motion to a table and we sit. I lift my arm and snap my fingers and a prospect runs over with a couple of bottles of beer.

I rub the back of my neck. “Sorry, Ma, shit just got away from me today.”

“She left you the house and a portion of the insurance money, Tim.”

I stare down at my beer bottle, my thumbnail scraping the label, soggy with condensation. I finally meet her eyes. “Don’t you want it?”

“I have a home with Eugene now.”

I scoff at that and give her a smirk as I lift the bottle to my lips.

“Look, I know the special bond you and your grandmother had when you were younger. I think that property has special meaning for you. All the memories, and, well . . . doesn’t it?”

“Of course it does.” I look at her. “But if you need the money, you should sell it, Ma.” I’d hate to think financial reasons forced her to stay in any relationship.

“I know it’s hard for you to believe, but I’m happy now.”

“Really—living in suburbia with a squirrelly looking tax accountant like Eugene?”

“Yes, really, and let’s leave him out of this. He’s a good man.” She reaches her hand across the table to cover mine, and suddenly I’m remembering all the times I held her hand and walked from Grandma’s down the street to Ryker’s for an ice cream cone. “Tim?”

I glance to the table where my brothers are playing pool, before finally meeting her eyes.

“Son, don’t you want it?”

“Come on, Ma, seriously, what would I do with it besides sell it?”

“Live there, rent it out for income, whatever you want.”

I huff out a laugh. “Me in a big Victorian house like that?”

“Why not?”

“It’s in Santa Cruz. The club is here.”

“It’s not that far and you know it.” When I don’t reply, she sighs. “Just think about it, okay? I think you’ll regret it if we sell it off.” She looks at her watch. “I’ve got to go.”

“So soon? You didn’t even drink your beer.”

“I know, but it’s getting late. I need to get home.” She stands and gives me a hug.

My arms tighten around her. “I miss her, Ma. I should have gone to see her more. I wish we’d had more time.”

“I know, baby.” She pats my back. “She loved you, and she knew you loved her too.”

I nod, too choked up for words. We pull apart, and she squeezes my bicep.

“You still have your key?”

“Yeah.”

“I cleaned out the fridge, but everything else is still there. I haven’t had the heart to get rid of any of it . . .” she stares off into space a moment, living in her memories, and then finally looks at me. “You should go look at the place, even if you don’t want it, you know, just to say goodbye, if nothing else.”

I nod, not sure that I will. I walk her outside into the cool night air and we stop beside her car.

“You really doin’ okay?” I ask.

She smiles. “Eugene’s a funny guy. He reminds me of your father that way.” She takes my chin in her hand and gives my head a little shake. “That humor you inherited.”

“I wish I remembered him.”

“You were only three when he got sick. I wish you’d had