Twisted Steel: An MC Anthology: Second Edition

by Elizabeth Knox

  Mom says I worry too much. But I think she doesn’t worry enough. Dad has always been here for us through the snowy months when nothing could be done outside. But with her working late shifts and me needing to finish my online studies, I’m not sure how we’re going to survive on her salary alone.

  And it’s not much.

  The rumble of bikes in the distance is testament to where I am. My attention rapt at the four bikers passing by the house, and I offer them a wave. The Kovenant MC is a family. My family. My dad made sure the members were there for Mom and me, but now that he’s gone, I wonder if they’ll still look out for us.

  They’re a myriad of men and women who found each other through loss, through love, and through connection. Their passion for the open road brought them here, and even though our community is small, these people would die for each other. A thundering grumble of a truck catches my attention, causing me to look up from my schoolbook.

  I should be studying, but the vehicle circling our enormous driveway keeps my attention locked. Behind the truck is a blacked-out SUV, similar to Dad’s. When it comes to a stop at the house next door, I can’t tear my curious gaze away.

  Eighteen years I’ve lived in this town, and I haven’t ever seen newcomers move in. Everyone who lives here has been here since before I was born. As the driver emerges from the SUV, I notice his tattoos that snake up his arms, just like my dad’s do. But when the passenger door shoots open and long limbs draped in dark denim appear, my breathing halts.

  The guy who gets out is tall, broad-shouldered, as if he plays football. I recognize the build of his tapered torso from our own football team at school. I don’t go there anymore, but I recall the boys in their senior year, vying for the cheerleader’s attention. Dad pulled me out of the school after I was bullied for being a biker’s kid. Now, I stay in Anchor Bay and go to school online.

  He rounds the car, heading to the truck, and helps the movers with the boxes. When he sets one down, he turns his head, and his dark eyes land on me. He’s built bigger than most of the boys I went to school with. He straightens before shoving his hands into his pockets and locks his intrigued stare on me, and everything around me disappears.

  Chocolate-brown hair hangs over his forehead, a lock slipping into his left eye as his full lips quirk. His chiseled features are classically beautiful, but from here I can see that he’s definitely not the squeaky-clean footballers we have at school.

  No. There’s a glint of silver in the corner of his lower lip and in his right eyebrow, which shimmers in the sunlight as well. Two piercings. And for a short moment, I wonder what else he has pierced.

  Shaking my head, I manage to drag my stare away from him to the men now emptying the truck. Next door, the house that had been standing empty for months is being filled with furniture and boxes.

  Mom comes up behind me, her legs encased in the black leather pants she loves to wear to work. Down at Davey’s, the bar where my mom tends every weeknight, there’s no uniform, but my mother loves to show off her figure.

  “New neighbors,” she remarks, taking in the man and his son. But I can’t find words because the stranger is still staring at me, causing my cheeks to heat. “Stay inside. Don’t you go looking for trouble next door. You hear me, Trinity?”

  “Yeah, Mom,” I respond, holding back the sigh that threatens to escape. I know she’s going to want to lock me up since there’s a guy my age next door, but she has to realize I’m growing up, and there’s nothing she can do to stop it.

  I watch my mother slide into the driver’s seat of our dark-blue Rover. She pulls out of the drive slowly, her eyes locked on our new neighbors. As she disappears around the corner, I notice the intriguing stranger coming toward me.

  My heart kicks against my chest at his approach. When he stops inches from where I’m sitting, he offers me a stare that I can’t get a read on. I’m not sure if he’s angry or annoyed.

  “Hey.”

  “Hi,” I answer, my voice coming out croaky as I glance up, finally seeing him up close. And I wasn’t prepared for just how pretty he is. Yes, pretty. Because even under the sneer, he is one of the most beautiful guys I’ve ever seen. But looking at him so closely, I realize he’s a lot older than I thought. He’s not at all a boy—he’s a man. Possibly early to mid to late twenties, I would guess.

  “My dad wanted to know if you knew where The Kovenant guys hang out,” he speaks, his voice deep and gravelly, nothing like the boys at school. “He’s supposed to meet Snake?”

  Shit. Snake is our President. The motorcycle club my father was a member of doesn’t take on new members very often. When I glance behind my new neighbor, I see his father standing back, and I wonder if he sent his son over so I wouldn’t freak out.

  Little does he know that Snake is like a father to me. Since mine left, he’s taken over the role, and deep down, I wonder if he and Mom will ever get together.

  “They’re down at Davey’s,” I tell the stranger. “What’s your name?” I ask, but his dark eyes have the rest of my confidence withering under his glare.

  “You don’t need to know that,” he informs me before turning and sauntering away, leaving me staring at his all-black outfit. The black denim pants along with his black hoodie make him seem like a mirage.

  When he reaches his dad, they speak for a short moment before he turns and heads into his new home, leaving me staring at nothing but a truck of belongings that pique my curiosity even more.

  And I realize this isn’t the end of our strange interaction.

  It’s only the damn beginning.

  2

  Rogue

  Bullshit.

  I don’t spit out the word like I want to. But I’m sure the look on my face says it all. The men that surround the table take me in, then they look over at my father. I’m not about to become some fucking servant boy just to get my patch back. When we lived out in Colorado, the MC had given me my duties. The leather cut I wore for two years swore that I was a fully-fledged member. But then I fucked up, I did a number on my family, which is why Dad was adamant we had to come to Anchor Bay. A piece of shit town in a piece of shit state.

  “Your Prez tells me you’re cut from the same cloth as all my men here in Anchor Bay,” Snake says. The man has eyes and a tongue like a serpent, which has me curious as to what the fuck happened to him. As much as I want to ask, I don’t because he doesn’t look like he’d take kindly to the query.

  “We are. My son was patched in after serving two years as a prospect,” Dad informs them. “He is hard working. The MC runs through his veins.” And that’s the fucking truth. Since I was little, I wanted to be a member. I watched my father work his ass off to earn the VP patch, and then shit hit the fan, and we needed to leave. It wasn’t by choice, and the club didn’t want us to go, but there was no other choice.

  “My brother said you’re both loyal fuckers, which is the main thing, and we can always use more hands in Anchor Bay.” Snake nods, a smile turning his expression sinister. I wonder which of the clubwhores bounces on his dick with that look on his face. None is what I’m guessing.

  He lifts the gavel, waiting as he meets the gaze of each and every man around the table—a sign of a leader. Each of the brothers gives a yes, and each man looks at us with some form of a grin on their faces. And I wonder if this will be a turning point. Will the past leave me alone? I’m almost certain Snake knows what I did and why we had to run like fucking convicts. If he does, he doesn’t say anything though.

  When the gavel hits the smooth mahogany, it brings me back to the present and the new venue for church. Luminous green eyes pin me to the spot, and for a moment, it’s as if he’s trying to see what sinister bullshit lies in my soul. It’s fucking disarming.

  “It’s settled,” Snake announces before looking at Dad directly. “Kovenant, let’s welcome our new Treasurer and his son, who’ll be a patched member.” The tension in my muscles ease. Roars and shouts go up, whistles and cheers, along with back
slaps and one-armed hugs.

  I spent most of my life on the outside. Once I graduated high school, I walked away from the bullshit of that system and straight into the MC. My father wasn’t happy, forced me to study online. He said if I didn’t want to be around scholars, I’d do it alone. And I did.

  Accounting was my major, and it felt like it would take me forever to get my degree, but I most certainly did it. At twenty-five, I love focusing on the numbers. I found it calms me, but still, there’s an underlying bloodlust that runs rampant through me. Deep down, I wonder if it’s only because of the revenge I’m dying to exact, or if it’s something else.

  I will get vengeance. I promised Dad, and I promised myself.

  We all move to the bar where sofas, a pool table, and a few coin machines are situated. The room is nothing more than a glorified living room, but there’s alcohol. Perching myself on a stool, I order a beer from one of the prospects serving. With my drink in hand, I take in the scene before me. Twenty-five or so men settle around on the leather couches, some at the pool table, others standing around with glasses in hand, talking.

  The door swings open, and the party starts when a handful of clubwhores walk in, their heels high and their skirts short. I’m almost certain none of them are wearing panties. Easy access, cheap thrills. Not my kinda thing. Even when I was back home, I never bothered with them too much. I like a challenge. I don’t want pussy dropping in my lap at the flick of my fingers. Even though I can get it, I prefer fighting for my prize.

  The girl I met earlier isn’t here. I didn’t think she’d be; she didn’t seem like a groupie. But the woman I saw with her brings me another drink, and I realize she’s someone’s ol’ lady. A smile graces her lips when she sets the bottle down.

  “Welcome to Anchor Bay. One of the friendliest places in the continental US.”

  “That’s what everyone keeps telling me,” I respond, lifting the drink and tipping it toward her in a thanks. “Place is like one of those overly friendly shitholes.”

  She laughs out loud, the sound husky, as if she’s smoked far too many cigarettes in her life. “That’s exactly what it is.” The glint in her eyes tells me momma would be interested in riding the Rogue stick, but when I look at her, all I see is her daughter.

  “Name’s Rogue,” I tell her, holding out a hand, which she accepts.

  “I’m Tawny. You probably saw my daughter, Trinity, earlier,” she explains, and now I have a name. Wonder if momma and daughter would be up for a threesome. The thought makes my dick jolt.

  “Yeah, good girl doing her homework.”

  “That would be her.” Another flash of perfectly white teeth and the look of a woman who’s hungry. When she leaves me to serve one of the other guys, I can’t help but watch her for a long moment. She certainly ain’t bad looking for a mother. Older woman and all that shit. She must easily have about twenty years or more on me.

  “Be careful of that one; she bites,” Snake warns as he slips in beside me, a grin plastered on his face. “Daughter is off-limits too.”

  I shrug it off, trying to hide my disappointment before asking, “Your ol’ lady?”

  He shakes his head, casting a quick glance at Tawny. “Fuck no. She’d bite my dick off if she ever came near it. My VP, the man who is no longer with us, knocked her up when she was seventeen. When Trinity was born, he took to fatherhood like a fish to water.” Snake tells the story with sadness dripping from every word. “Then Trinny turned seventeen, and he upped and left.”

  “Just like that?”

  He turns his stare on me. “Yeah, just like that.”

  What the fuck makes a man walk out on his family without a word?

  My curious mind needs to know. “Don’t you think something happened to him?”

  Snake swallows back his drink, swirling the empty glass as he focuses on the few drops still in there before he tilts his head to the side, regarding me. “Something did happen to him,” he says. “There are a lot of rumors going around the clubs about what when down. Problem is, we’re not sure where he’s gone, or how to find him. But the thing about it is, he’s better off gone.” He slams the glass on the wooden surface, it’s filled without question, before Snake shakes his head.

  And there it is. The reason Tawny’s husband left—he fucked up and ran.

  “You keep them here even though he walked out on you when you needed him?”

  “The girls are good people,” Snake informs me. “They didn’t deserve that fucker leaving them. And I have to be honest,” he murmurs, glancing over at the buxom brunette with plump lips and hazel eyes. “If she’d give me half a chance, I’d happily show her just how good this tongue can make her feel.” He chuckles, shaking his head as he pushes away from the bar. “Enjoy your night.” With a slap on the back, he leaves me to drink, but my mind is replaying all the information I just got.

  And now that I know Trinity’s name, I’m almost certain it’s not going to be the last time I think about her.

  3

  Trinity

  It’s been a few days since our new neighbor moved in, and if I said I wasn’t even more intrigued knowing he’s a member of The Kovenant, then I’d be lying. Mom’s been like a prison warden, with her rules and regulations about me hanging out at the club. Even though I have friends there, she clearly doesn’t want me around the new guy I learned was called Rogue.

  The gossip around the clubhouse is that he and his dad patched in from Colorado and that he’s here to stay. When I spoke to Larkin, one of my only friends, she had the inside scoop since her dad, Gunner, is the Road Captain.

  My phone buzzes, and Larkin’s name illuminates the screen. It’s a new message, which I shouldn’t open since I’m studying, but Mom’s at work, and I’m bored. For the first time in my life, schoolwork has me needing an escape.

  Flicking open the message, I scan the text.

  Larkin: It looks like the dad is here, so your hottie is alone at home. Get it girl!

  Laughing, I shake my head at her. When the seasons change and winter eases into spring and summer, the new faces we get to see are exciting, giving us something to talk about. And now that the tourist season is almost upon us, I can only imagine Larkin readying herself for a summer romance. After an isolated winter, having a brand-new, sexy guy sauntering around like he owns the place is the most excitement our part of Anchor Bay has seen in a while.

  I tap out my reply, “I’m studying,” and hit send. With a smile still firmly in place, I stand and pad over to the window. Settling on the bench seat Dad built for me, I look out into the garden, and I’m startled by what I find. It’s not full dark yet, but both our gardens are illuminated by the yellow lights that trail toward the back of the property. There in all his half-naked beauty is Rogue. Weights gripped in each hand, sweat dripping from his toned, inked torso, and his long, dark hair falling into his eyes as he lifts and lowers the heavy metal.

  With every movement, his arms bulge and tense, and his abs, which are cut with prominent dips and peaks, as are his obliques that look good enough to trail with my tongue. Most times, we only gawk at guys like him in magazines or online, but right here, almost in my backyard, is a real-life hottie that has me wanting to climb out this window and get even closer.

  With my schoolwork forgotten, I settle in for the show. After his weights, he drops down and starts push-ups, which allows me to ogle his back. He oozes strength as he completes fifty in no time at all.

  The black shorts he’s wearing hang low on his hips, and I notice how his ass curves in the flimsy material. I have never seen a guy like him in real life, and there is no way I can deny that he is breathtaking. A walking piece of art.

  When he’s on his feet again, he tips his head, locking his dark gaze on mine, sending a wave of white-hot embarrassment through me. He caught me looking. His mouth quirks, and he turns to face me fully. Every inch of him shimmers in the light, glistening with sweat, and I feel my cheeks heat.

  Rogue lifts his h
and, two fingers crooking, calling me to him. Like a fighter would challenge his opponent in the ring, this man is challenging me to come down to where he is. I want to shake my head no, but I find myself moving on autopilot. Slipping on my flip-flops, I head down the steps to the back door, which leads into our garden. Since the houses are built with community in mind, we don’t have a fence blocking their side and ours.

  “Enjoy the show?” Rogue arches a brow at me, a lock of hair hanging over his left eye as he watches me intently. Heat searing through me from his stare.

  “I . . . I heard a noise.” Inwardly, I cringe at the stupid words coming from my mouth. “I just looked out the window for a second.”

  He smiles. He fucking smiles, and my heart does stupid flips in my chest. “That’s a mighty long second you had going there. I mean . . .” He shrugs, satisfaction at catching me painted across his handsome face. “I did my weights, then my push-ups, and then only did you move.”

  My mouth falls open, but no words come out. He saw me all that time I was gawking from my bedroom window. Shame flushes itself through me. My cheeks heat, and my eyes lower, but my mistake is clear when I notice the bulge behind the soft material of his shorts. Quickly, I flick my gaze back to his, and I pray the ground will open and swallow me.

  “Like the view?” he challenges, taking a few steps toward me, and I can’t move. I’m frozen in place, watching him stalk me like a predator. A hunter after its prey. When he stops inches from me, the scent of him engulfs me. It reminds me of hot summer nights and spicy drinks in winter. I inhale his smell of masculine testosterone and intense craving.