Twisted Steel: An MC Anthology: Second Edition Elizabeth Knox (cheapest way to read ebooks .txt) 📖

It might be a group decision but I know that if I said that I didn’t want Devin my brothers would go along with it. His place here is left up to me. It’s a lot of power for anyone to have.

“As you all know by now, our brothers over in the Wings of Diablo have had a devastating and traumatic time. Unfortunately, they will never be the same. One of their members needs a new home, he was displaced not because he did anything wrong but because Clean thought he would be a better fit here with us with his background in law enforcement.

“I hear that,” Spark says out loud.

There is a round of laughter before I put my hand up to silence everyone. “I’m calling to a vote the matter of Devin becoming one of us. I say he was meant to be one of the Boys of Djinn, what say the rest of you?”

The round of yays is deafening and I glance over to Devin who is standing over to the side looking a bit more at ease than he did a few minutes ago. Acceptance will do that for you.

“Welcome, brother.” I put my hand out, a patch that reads patched member in my palm.

He walks over and takes it from me. “Thanks for the chance.”

“You deserve it. Besides, there was no way we were just going to let someone as good as you fall to the wind. Those Wings don’t know what they gave up.” I clap him on the back and look to the rest of my brothers.

“Alright, that’s it. It’s time to celebrate! Cody, I think Devin needs to get a look at our ladies. Let’s show him what the Boys of Djinn have to offer.”

Coming up next for the Boys of Djinn

Find out what happens next for the Boys of Djinn in Cody’s book. Will the boys find Emerson or will the Children of Gaia continue their reign of terror?

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The Exiled Eight MC – Detroit Chapter

Addison Jane

SACRIFICE

The Exiled Eight MC – Detroit Chapter

Twisted Steel Anthology

Addison Jane

Copyright 2021 Addison Jane

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations, or places is entirely coincidental.

All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the author. All songs, song titles, and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

Disclaimer: The material in this book contains graphic language and sexual content and is intended for mature audiences, ages 18 and older.

Editing by Swish Design & Editing

All Rights Reserved

Prologue

HAWK

My feet scuffed the church floor as my father and uncle dragged me down the aisle, unable to keep up with their frantic pace.

Wide eyes filled the pews on either side of us, some in horror, some in shock and awe, but all just so desperate for front-row seats to my demise. I knew because I’d once been one of them, eager to watch the vulgar ritual, knowing it would give me nightmares but desperate to experience something so foreign.

So forbidden.

Something other than the mundane existence I’d been handed.

Maybe that was my mistake.

Maybe it was a sick addiction to sin that had forced me into the position I now found myself.

Being forced to pay for them.

We jerked to a stop merely a few feet from the small stage constructed out of old pieces of wood and a base of bricks. It was made to be removed. It was only there to make sure everyone in the procession got a look at the show they were about to put on but could be taken down quickly and disposed of, so they had deniability if anyone came asking questions.

That kind of disgusting bullshit came with practice.

Because I wasn’t the first.

Not by far.

I was simply the latest.

Today’s lesson in obedience.

“My people…” The murmurs of the crowd instantly halted at the sound of Prophet Andrew’s booming voice.

“You should’ve listened,” my father whispered under his breath, his fingers pinching at my skin. “You should have done what you were told.” There was almost a catch in his voice, a sign of emotion I rarely heard from the man I shared nothing with but my DNA.

I was number fourteen.

Fourteenth out of the thirty-seven children he had fathered.

With seven wives, he spent one night a week in each of their homes.

Because that was what a man did here. He collected wives like they were trophies, the main aim to produce children in the hopes that one of them will turn out to be ‘the chosen one.’ The one sent to save us—the one who has the key to the gates of Heaven.

Did I believe it?

Did I believe our eternal happiness was dependent on some child being born with the perfect cross-shaped birthmark?

I honestly wasn’t sure what I believed now.

All I knew was the chosen one wasn’t me.

“Bring him to me,” Prophet Andrew ordered, his hand reaching for the cloth that covered a large square object on a stand beside him. He tugged it off, a dramatic reveal followed by a wave of gasps moving through the church, echoing in the vast space.

My body unconsciously jerked away from the slithering knot of snakes