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

It was the kind of income I could never get standing behind a fast-food counter or packing groceries, so I kept doing it.

And things were usually fine until unexpected shit happened, and you suddenly had to find four or five hundred dollars for a device that could save your child’s life.

“I can’t ask the other girls for money.”

“You need it.”

“Everyone here needs it,” I croaked. “I can’t take it from them.”

She pursed her lips. “Fuck you and your putting everyone else first stubborn ass.” I started to laugh, the tears still streaming, and my nose beginning to run. Because if I wasn’t so fucking sexy before, now this was one for the books. “You’re gonna have to ask Mitchell.”

I’d rather streak down Main Street.

But she was right.

Could it wait a couple of weeks until I saved up? Sure.

Could Kadey have an allergic reaction tomorrow and die? Yes.

It was just whether I was willing to play that gamble with my world.

“I need to get it first thing in the morning, tonight if fucking possible in case they have to order one,” I whispered, holding Gem’s chocolate-colored eyes and letting them warm me through. “Maybe he’ll think of it as charity.”

“Or maybe you’ll have to suck his dick,” she corrected with a dramatic eye roll. “Just remember what you’re doing it for. Who you’re doing it for.”

She swept her fingers through my hair, pulling it back from my face as we both looked at Kadey.

My reason for living.

For fighting.

For surviving.

She deserved more. She deserved better, and I was going to give it to her. No fucking matter what.

My stomach swirled and turned as I made my way back down the hall. Mitchell owned the strip club slash bar. If you needed to know what kind of bastard this man was, he was the kind who topped up half-full bottles of liquor with water and sold it at twice the price. He was also the kind who didn’t offer extra hours if you were struggling, but instead, offered himself like some kind of tribute and charged you by the minute.

I pressed my fingers to my lips, holding back that rush of saliva that flooded your mouth when you knew the vomit was coming.

The asshole was sick, twisted, and in total control of every woman here.

He knew it.

We knew it.

And it made me sick.

Inhaling deeply through my nose, I pounded hard on his office door with my palm. The low rumble of voices inside pausing for a second before I heard him call out. “Come in!”

With my tongue pinched between my teeth, I shoved the door open and forced myself to step inside. “Mitchell, I need to chat with you ab—” I froze, realizing there were more than just one set of eyes on me.

“Missy!” Mitchell crowed happily, rubbing his hands together as he stepped around his desk. “This is Hawk, Exiled Eight MC Vice President. Hawk, this is one of my beautiful ladies, Missy.”

We eyed each other, that emerald green that I recognized from our brief encounter last week almost warm and comforting, especially in this office where I couldn’t step inside usually without feeling ill.

His mouth curled at the corner in a gentle smirk. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Okay, so we were doing that.

“You, too,” I answered through pursed lips, making a note of the three other men in the room wearing club colors.

“What can I help with?” Mitchell was quick to cut in, sitting back on his desk and spreading his legs like he already knew I needed something and just how he intended on making me pay for it.

The lump in my throat that tickled my gag reflex threatened to choke me, but I forced it back down, sucking in a deep breath. “I know my shift is over, but I really need to earn a little extra by tomor—”

Mitchell’s face lit up, and his mouth opened, eagerly ready to bargain his way into a little something for himself, but before he could make an offer, someone beat him to it. “I’ve got a party at the club next weekend,” Hawk announced, getting up from the sofa and taking a couple of steps toward me. He was bigger than I remember, his shoulders broader, the atmosphere around him screaming strength and power. Something that would usually turn me off, but with this man, all I wanted to do was sink inside it. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out a roll of bills. “I’d like to hire you.”

Mitchell’s head snapped to Hawk. “Oh, we’ve never… they don’t usually…”

Hawk nodded, and one of the boys pushed off the wall and walked over to my blabbering boss, handing him a stack of bills.

“That’s your cut for letting us borrow her and another girl,” Hawk announced without tearing his eyes from mine. He held out the roll of money. “You dance. You serve drinks. Four hundred each for you and a friend. Paid now. Upfront.”

That would pay for the EpiPen.

Plus, leave me with some extra.

“Done.”

“Miss—” Mitchell started, but one of the club members near him slapped him hard on the back, startling him a little and making him jump. It was obvious that in this room, with these men, where he was usually king, he’d quickly been dethroned. And I couldn’t help but allow myself to smile for just a second.

I held out my hand, Hawk placing the roll of money inside and letting his fingers linger for a little longer than they needed to before pulling back. “I got your number from Mitch here,” he announced, stepping around me and moving to the door. “Find a friend to bring along, and I’ll get you the details during the week.”

There was a second where I could feel a protest tickle my tongue.

It was an instant reaction when I felt like I was being ordered around.

A defense mechanism.

But the retort never came.

It died there on the end of my tongue, and I suddenly realized something.

This man had my defenses