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

“We’re never letting you out of our sight again,” Cynde insisted. “That could have been any one of us.”

“I’ve permanently banned all jackals from The Pole Barn,” Madam Belle informed them. “The magical barrier around the house has been extended around the club. No one with bad intent can enter either building. It may thin the crowd a bit, but I won’t have any of you hurt or kidnapped again.”

That was a relief to Rory. It would make things easier and safer for them even if they lost some business.

She was swept up in the chatter and the love of the women around her. They all had something to say.

Belle let them each have a turn but when they started on a second round, she put her fingers in her lips and whistled loud enough to get everyone’s attention. “Magenta needs to rest,” she reminded them, “and you girls need to sleep. I don’t want to see bags under those eyes when you’re on tonight. Now scoot!” she shooed them, watching until the last ones were out the door and upstairs.

“You’ve got the night off if you need it,” Belle told her. “Go to bed. Get some rest. Knowing gargoyles, that Quake had you up most of the night. See how you feel when you wake up and let me know. Go on, now. I’m going back to sleep too.”

As late as they worked, this was still bedtime for Madam Belle’s girls. Rory followed her upstairs, her footsteps flagging. She was wiped out, she realized. So fucking tired.

Covering her yawn, she fumbled with her doorknob and stumbled into her room. Another dizzy spell hit her, sending her hurtling toward the bed. She managed to fall on it rather than land on the floor, grabbing fistfuls of her duvet and pulling herself onto the mattress. Why the hell they had to make beds so tall these days was beyond her comprehension. Some of the girls used a frigging stepstool just to get in bed.

Her room still smelled like Quake. She’d wanted to keep his scent a little longer, not ready to let it go.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow would be soon enough to clean. She needed to freshen the air and see what the winds of change brought. Belle’s girls didn’t have boyfriends. Breakfast with Quake was only a pipe dream and that’s all it might ever be.

Still, just in case, she wrote his number down that he’d scribbled on her forearm. If worse came to worse and she couldn’t bring herself to go back to work upstairs or on the stage . . . , if she started working behind the bar as Belle offered, she might actually have a chance with someone like Quake. End up in a real, lasting relationship, not be trapped in some other man’s fantasy that ended when the hour was up.

It was the last thought she had before she slipped into sleep.

When Rory opened her eyes again, sunlight was peeking through her drawn curtains. Rubbing a hand over her eyes, she looked groggily at the bedside clock. Eleven fifteen a.m. was lit up on the screen. Only two hours had passed. Groaning, she rolled over pressing her face into her pillow. As she lay there hoping to fall back to sleep, it became obvious she was wide awake to stay.

“Shit.”

Rising, Rory stretched . . . and realized she’d gone to bed still wearing borrowed clothes. Finding some fresh pajamas in her closet, she padded into her ensuite and took a quick shower.

Redressed, she walked out of her room, headed for the kitchen, and bumped into Candy in the hallway.

“Hey!” her friend beamed. “You’re awake.”

Rory wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, I couldn’t seem to stay asleep so I thought I’d go have some warm milk or something.”

“What do you wanna do? Hibernate?” the other woman joked.

Confused, Rory followed her down the stairs. “I don’t think two hours leads to hibernation even if shifters were capable of that.”

Candy halted halfway down the steps, turning disbelieving eyes her way. “Magenta, you’ve been dead to the world for twenty-six hours. We wanted to wake you but Madam Belle said to let you rest. I thought you were never going to come out of your room!”

Twenty-six hours?

Rory’s mouth dropped open in shock. She never slept that long. Not even on days off. Her body was attuned to her routine here and sleep-ins were impossible.

“You must have needed it, huh?” Candy continued down the steps, leading the way to the kitchen.

“I guess,” Rory agreed.

She’d barely reached the kitchen counter when a wave of dizziness assailed her. Grabbing onto the edge, she clung to it for support.

Seeing her sway, the other woman watched with concern. “Low blood sugar. You need breakfast. Take a seat, and I’ll make you something.”

“Thanks, Candy.” Slipping onto a stool, Rory watched her friend busy herself, pouring them both a glass of orange juice before making a start on food. Steak, eggs, hash browns, and toast. As predator shifters, they craved meat more than anything else. As dancers, they needed plenty of protein, calcium, and iron.

“You should never skip a meal,” Candy told her, plating their breakfast and bringing it to the table.

“I don’t usually,” Rory admitted. “I wasn’t planning to sleep the day away.”

“Quake wanted to know how you were.”

At the mention of his name, she couldn’t prevent herself from blushing pink. “He was here?”

“Uh-huh,” Candy grinned, waving her fork in the air with a piece of steak skewered on the end of it. “Madam Belle told him you were sleeping. He didn’t go into the club. He sat in the parking lot in the dark smoking weed on his bike while Mason came and played with me.”

Rory arched a skeptical brow. “How do you know what he was doing if you were having sex with Mason?”

Candy winked. “Amos.”

Quake hadn’t been able to see her, but he’d guarded her from afar. Like a knight watching over a princess.

Or a duchess . . .

Rory stopped that thought,