Twisted Steel: An MC Anthology: Second Edition

by Elizabeth Knox

  “Got it, Prez,” Lucky says with a quick nod.

  Shiner opens his mouth to speak when someone knocks on the door.

  “Yeah,” I call out for them to come in. When the door opens, Rain steps in. “Hey, Rain, what can I do for you? You okay?”

  “Have any of you by chance seen Storm?” My gut twists into a dozen knots at Rain’s question.

  “What do you mean? She should be here,” I mutter, coming to my feet.

  “I’ve looked everywhere for her and asked some of the others, no one’s seen her,” Rain murmurs with a tremble of her lip. Being Sniper’s ol’ lady, I’m sure she’s been filled in on the situation to an extent with Nerd, seeing as to her, he’s one of her babies.

  “We’ll find her,” I say, rounding my desk. I clasp her shoulder, giving her a squeeze in comfort. Rain’s a one-of-a-kind woman and Sniper’s a lucky fucker to have her as his ol’ lady. All of us are lucky, to be honest, since she does everything, she can keep the women around here, as Storm would call them, fallen harlots. This name stuck to our clubwhores, and Rain takes care of making sure they stay in line and to do as they’re supposed to.

  “I know you will, Blow, but just remember, don’t be too hard on her,” Rain mutters and leaves my office.

  What the hell does she mean, don’t be too hard on Storm? The woman is missing, and now I’ve gotta find her.

  “Lucky, Shiner, you two get on Kurt and this bullshit. Nines get Keys to track Storm’s phone and tell me where she is. I’m gonna head out to see if I can find her,” I growl as I stalk toward the door to leave.

  “Prez, why don’t you just wait a minute and see for yourself what Keys has to say,” Nines suggests.

  “Because I do that, I miss the chance of possibly finding her sooner. You know Storm. Most likely, she went to that diner down on the edge of town,” I mutter without stopping.

  I storm out of the clubhouse to my bike. Straddling the back of my girl, I start her up and turn her in the direction of the road. The prospect on the gate holds the remote to the gate up, and the gate opens for me to exit. If by chance I find her and she’s unharmed, my first question is gonna be how the fuck she got past the prospect at the gate.

  As I hit the throttle, I speed down the road faster than I normally would, but the more I think about Storm leaving the clubhouse, the way she did infuriates me to no end.

  I make it to the diner in record time. Glancing in through the front window, my vision goes red at the sight of Storm sitting there laughing with another man. What the ever-lovin’ fuck does she think she’s doing?

  Putting the kickstand down, I climb off my bike and stalk into the diner throwing the door open as I pass. My fury grows as I get closer to their table and notice exactly who the hell she’s sitting with.

  Fuck.

  Dickerson.

  He glances up at me and gives me a shit-eating grin. “I told Nerd I could get to her if I wanted to,” he chuckles.

  I ignore his words for the moment and move to Storm’s side of the table. Reaching out, I grab her by her bicep and haul her up out of the booth.

  Only when I have her in my clutches do I give Dickerson my attention. “You’re damn fuckin’ lucky we’re in a public place, and you didn’t touch Storm. I suggest you get the fuck out of my area before I change my fuckin’ mind and put a bullet in your head here and now. However, I’m leaving the satisfaction to Nerd and Coyote for what you did to Cara,” I snarl, hating the idea I’m letting him walk. But with him bein’ by himself, that leaves the rest of the men who helped him out there somewhere. There’s no way you can cut the head and it not grow back. These fuckers are like a hydra and constantly keep growing back its head times two.

  Dragging Storm behind me, I ignore her protests. I need a moment to calm down before I face her again. Getting back on my bike, I order Storm to climb on behind me and hold on tight. Pulling away from the diner, I catch Dickerson’s evil glint and know I need to take caution in keeping Storm safe from him. How the fuck he drew her out of the clubhouse is gonna be another thing I find out from this infuriating woman who’s right now pressed against my back.

  Instead of riding toward the clubhouse like I know I should, I take us somewhere secluded. Somewhere, where I can yell at her and find out before we even get to the club what the fuck she was thinkin’.

  Turning down the lane to my land I’d yet to build a house on, I pull up into the meadow that I’ll eventually have a home. Shutting my bike off, I put the kickstand down and tap Storm’s thigh signaling for her to hop off. Though I don’t have to do this since she’s already on the move swinging her leg off and stepping away from me.

  “What the hell do you think you were doing? I mean, who do you think you are speaking like that to someone I classify as a friend?” she snaps.

  “Friend?” I sneer, narrowing my gaze on her as I also climb off my bike. Stepping closer to her, I can nearly feel the heat radiating off her body. “Sweetheart, Dickerson is no friend of yours. He’s the fuckin’ reason your brother and his ol’ lady are hurt in the first fuckin’ place. That motherfucker would gladly see your throat slit before being your friend.”

  I don’t give a damn if her eyes widen with fear at the fact this fuckhead is the cause for her brother being hurt or anything else. All I care about right now is making sure Storm gets it in her head that she can’t do shit like this.

  “That still doesn’t give you the right to come into the diner the way you did, acting like some jealous boyfriend or whatnot. I’m not yours. You’ve made that perfectly clear, jerk face,” she screams.

  Unfortunately, my entire being reacts, and I’m unable to stop myself at her screaming those words. Jerking her into my embrace, I wrap one arm around her waist, and the other goes into her hair, tangling my fingers into its dark locks. Using my fingers in her hair, I tilt her head back and slam my mouth down on hers, claiming it in a way that I wish I were able to truly do so.

  4

  Storm

  Holy macaroons, Blow’s mouth is on mine. His tongue dances with mine while he holds me flush against his body.

  Oh. My.

  I know rationally I should shove Blow away from me. Demand to know what he’s doing, then again, no matter how much seeing him with those other women hurts me, I’ve been in love with this man since I was fifteen.

  I’ve dreamed of having his lips fused to mine in the very same act as they are now.

  Moaning into his mouth, I wind my arms over his shoulders and curl them around his neck while lifting myself up on my tiptoes.

  Blow’s hand in my hair tightens as he deepens the kiss even further. My heart races in my chest, nearly beating out of my chest at the passion pouring from his mouth to mine. Breaking the kiss of a lifetime, Blow lifts his head long enough for him to remove my t-shirt from my body. Leaving me clad in only a bra and jeans.

  In a haze of lust, I suppose you can blame it on the two of us allowing our bodies to do all the talking rather than we use words. I don’t think I could form a word if I wanted to at this point.

  With an easy movement, Blow lowers me to the ground, my back pressed into the soft grass of the field he’d brought us to. I whimper in protest as he rips his mouth from mine and begins a trail of wet kisses along my jaw, down the side of my neck. A squeaking noise slips past my lips as Blow nips where my neck meets my shoulder. The hand Blow had tangled in my hair is now running along the side of my bare waist since he’d removed my shirt. The blades of grass tickle my back, but I don’t care.

  I arch further into his touch and not wanting to ever stop feeling his fingers trailing across my body.

  Blow lifts his head back up to my lips, taking them in another demanding kiss. This time I decide to get in on the touching action and move my hands down his bare stomach. I’d removed his shirt when he’d taken mine. My fingers go to the buttons of his jeans, and I unfasten them the quickest I can without fumbling in the process.

  With his jeans unbuttoned, I slide the
zipper down, more than ready to move this along. To have the one thing I’ve wanted with him for so long. It’s embarrassing to say I’d kept myself from boys in high school, and after moving to the cabin to get away from Blow, I didn’t see the point in trying when my heart hurt. I was fine writing my books.

  I want to scream in protest when Blow removes my hand from his jeans and breaks the kiss that I knew would be one I always remembered. Lifting his head, Blow meets my gaze, and words don’t even describe the look in his eyes. There’s something completely enticing about the shimmering lust in his eyes that also shows something else. This being something I’m not sure what to make of it. All I know is the glimpse completely shattered the barely up wall where he’s concerned.

  God knows most people would call me weak forgiving in this way, but this is Blow.

  My Blow. My Brenon.

  Most people don’t even know his real name is Brenon, but I do. He’d told me one day when I asked him. I remember the grin he’d given me as he’d said it, Brenon Smoke Taylor.

  “Tell me to stop now, sweetheart,” Blow rasps gravelly, bringing me out of my mesmerizing thoughts brought on by the look he’s giving me.

  Licking my bottom lip, I whisper words I never thought I’d get to say, “I don’t want you to stop. I want you to take me.”

  Blow’s eyes darken even more, and his mouth comes back down on mine in a demanding kiss. Releasing my hand he’d been holding on to, to keep me from touching him, Blow undoes the button of my jeans and slides his hand in to find I’m commando.

  “Fuck, Storm, you’re already soaked,” Blow growls, fingers toying with my entrance.

  I gasp in pleasure as he flicks his thumb over my tiny bud while he sinks two fingers inside my pussy. “Brenon,” I murmur, using his real name rather than his road name.

  Blow’s response to hearing his name is immediate. Removing his hand from inside my jeans, he pulls back and pulls them completely from my body. Next, is him pushing his jeans down, his cock springing forward. Blow grasps the large part of him and gives it a jerk.

  Oh. My. He’s larger than I thought he would be.

  Moving, Blow lines his thickness with my entrance. Slowly inch by inch, he thrust in and pulls back till only the head is still inside me. Only then does he push further. When he pierces the barrier, I wince but don’t cry out in pain like I thought I might. I’d heard it could be painful, but it was only a slight sting.

  “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Storm, sweetheart, why didn’t you tell me to stop?” he rasps, not moving anymore.

  “Because I love you and have always wanted you,” I whisper, refusing to feel rejected at this moment. “Please don’t stop, Brenon,” I murmur, moving my hips in encouragement.

  Blow groans but does as I want and starts moving. With each thrust forward, he brings me closer to orgasm. So close to the edge, I didn’t even see it coming when Blow reaches between us and circles my clit.

  Moaning out his name, I let it come over me, washing through me. Blow’s tempo picks up, and he joins me several thrusts later groaning my name.

  My heart leaps with joy at the sound of it on his lips.

  This is how I always imagined being with him would be but even better.

  5

  Blow

  Shit. I need a bullet put in my head for what I allowed to happen. I should have fuckin’ ended it with that kiss, but this is Storm. A woman I want as mine even if I can’t have her. She deserves so much more than I can give her.

  Storm needs to go to college, make something of herself with how smart she is.

  After pulling out of her pussy, fuck, I still can’t believe she’d been a virgin. I helped her dress and brought us back to the clubhouse. She’s still supposed to be on lockdown here. Needing space from her for a bit, I put her in my room and told her not to leave it.

  In my office, I sat there and pulled out a bottle of Maker’s Mark from the bottom draw of my desk. Pulling the lid off, I lift the bottle straight to my mouth and guzzle a hefty amount down, welcoming the burn as it slides down my throat.

  What the fuck was I thinking?

  I never should have fucked her.

  Storm’s innocence shouldn’t have ever been tarnished in any way, and me fuckin’ her outside like I did was fucked up. She deserved someone to give her hearts and roses. Which is something I’d never fuckin’ do. That ain’t me.

  I need to get her the hell out of here. Maybe make her hate me.

  Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll have to come up with a way that doesn’t involve her seeing me fuck another bitch. Doing that would be too much. All I want to do is make her leave and understand that she and I won’t be happening.

  “Because I love you and have always wanted you.” Storms words cause my chest to tighten. She can’t love me.

  I have to protect her from this life.

  Shit, I sound like a redundant bitch saying the same shit over and over when it comes to Storm. However, I want nothing more than to go back to my room, take her in my arms, and show her how much I want her.

  Too bad it can’t fuckin’ happen.

  Taking another large gulp of Maker’s Mark, I think of what to say to her. On what words will cause her to want to hate me rather than hurt her.

  Mind made up on what to say, I put the cap on the bottle of liquor and place it on the desk. I’ll need that shit when I finish with Storm.

  I leave my office and make my way to my room, ignoring the stares of my brothers in the main room. They’d seen me drag Storm back into the clubhouse. I’m sure they’d seen her disheveled appearance. The woman still had grass in her hair when we’d gotten here.

  Outside the door to my room, I lower my head and take a deep breath in order to steel myself for what I’m about to do. Twisting the doorknob, I open the door and step inside, making sure to close it behind me. I don’t need anyone who might walk by to hear this.

  Storm looks up from where she’s sitting on the edge of the bed, brushing her fingers through her wet hair—a look of uncertainty shimmering in her eyes.

  Good, I can play off that uncertainty.

  “We need to talk,” I growl harshly, causing her to flinch though she quickly covers it.

  “Um, okay,” she murmurs quietly.

  “What happened should never have happened,” I declare, getting straight to the point.

  “I know,” she whispers, casting her gaze to the floor.

  What the fuck?

  “I’m talking about you letting me fuckin’ fuck you in the middle of a damn field,” I say, clarifying to make sure she gets what I’m talking about and not about Dickerson.

  “I get it, Blow. You’ve made it clear with the way you dragged me in here and stalked right now. You don’t want me, I get it now,” she says meekly; however, I don’t miss the wobble in her voice.

  Motherfucker. I do want her. That’s why this shit is so fuckin’ hard. But of course, I have to drive home what she’s already said.

  “Good, glad you fuckin’ get it. What we did is nothing more than another notch on my belt.” Storm lifts her head and stares at me in horror and pain.

  “You can’t mean that,” she utters softly.

  “Yeah, sweetheart, I can mean it. I’m not looking for an ol’ lady or anything else. What we did was a fuck up, one that I’ll reduce to another notch on my belt. I don’t give a damn if you say you love me because you’re too fuckin’ young to know what the feeling is. And on top of that, you aren’t even my type. So do us both a favor and from now on, forget your delusions of being with me ‘cause it will never happen,” I grind out, making myself sick in the process.

  My gut is in knots with what I’m doing to her. Seeing the tears spilling down her cheeks kills me. I want nothing more than to take my words back, but this is for her own good. This is the only way to ensure she’ll move on and find a good life.

  Turning on my heel, I head for the door. I put a hand on the doorknob and bow my head. “You can stay in here until Sniper ge
ts back,” I mutter and leave without looking back at her.

  Stalking down the hall, I decide against going back to my office and my bottle of Maker’s Mark. Instead, I walk straight out of the club and head for my bike. For right now, I need to put some distance between Storm and myself. Straddling my bike, I look up to find Nines, Lucky, and Shiner all doing the same thing without saying a word to me.

  This is what it means to be a part of the Devil’s Riot MC. No words are needed for us to ride through hell in order to get out the other side. Long as we do it together as brothers, that’s all that counts. Because from here on out, my life will never be the same. I’ve hurt the one person who means the world to me, and it doesn’t matter how much hell I ride through. I’ll live the rest of it, making sure my club stays strong and nothing more.

  6

  Storm

  The moment the door slams shut behind Blow, a sob escapes. Why he felt the need to push what he’d already said with his actions when we got back to the clubhouse is beyond me.

  My heart doesn’t just shatter at this moment, it’s completely destroyed. Standing from his bed on wobbling knees, I step over to his desk, grab a few pieces of paper to do this next part as my mind comes to the conclusion I can’t stay here. Not even the cabin. Being even an hour away is too close for comfort for me.

  Not knowing how much time I have before Blow comes back to his room, I quickly scribble out a letter to my mom and dad, telling them to understand, I won’t get into it with them about my decision, but for them to respect me, I need space away from everyone. That when I’m ready I’ll call them. I’ll tell them what I need to. I write the other letter to Blow telling him he can have what he wants—me out of his life.

  Picking up both letters, I put Blow’s in the middle of his bed and leave his room. I walk down to the room that belongs to my dad and knock before entering. I don’t know if my mom’s in the room or not. Opening it, I find it empty. I close the door behind me when I enter the room and do what I did with Blow’s letter. I put it in the center of the bed for my mom to see. Scanning the room, I find the keys to my dad’s restored Mustang. Closing my eyes, I shake my head. He keeps it at his and mom’s house, which is only half a mile from the clubhouse. He’ll understand, and I’ll make sure to take good care of it. He and Nick did all the work on it, and so I feel guilty for what I’m about to do, but I have no choice. I’ll take it up to my cabin so I can get my car.