Page 91 of Ridin' Free

‘Don’t worry, Red. Your secret’s safe with me.’

He couldn’t wait anymore. He needed answers.

If Ali wasn’t around to tell him the truth, he was going to have to seek it elsewhere.

Twister didn’t second guess himself before heading to the clubhouse. He didn’t know where else to start his hunt for Scorpion—but he’d been like a damn hang-around since his release. He still sported Stallion ink, which technically made him one of them; but history made acceptance of him tenuous at best. Bull still wasn’t sure what to do with him. He didn’t trust him with a wrench any more than he trusted him with his life, so Scorpion was in no-man’s-land. It was pathetic, honestly, the way he was trying to make allies.

Then again, the clubhouse was the only address he could boast. The old man was relegated to the couch, seeing as all the private rooms were claimed. Even the ones barely occupied by the ranked members who spent most nights at home were not inclined to share with the asshole.

When Twister barged into the clubhouse, he halted in order to survey the room. It was mid-afternoon on a Friday. A number of his brothers were still on the clock, but the clubhouse was never empty, and today was no exception.

It didn’t take him long to spot his target—but it was Lyla he saw first.

She was straddling his lap, her back to him, her jean skirt bunched up around her waist as she rode his dick. She always was a vocal lay, but he could tell the noises she was making were for show. He wished he could say he was surprised, but he knew better. She took Scorpion’s cock as a power play. He never thought her stupid until that moment. Anyone dumb enough tobelieve Scorpion would ever be of importance to the club again deserved his shriveled old prick.

They were in the middle of the room, on a couch he’d be sure to avoid in the future. As he made his way toward them, he couldn’t help but to curl his lip in disgust.

“Fuckin’ sun is still up,” he clipped as he came to stand beside them.

Lyla paused, and they both looked up at him—Scorpion in annoyance; Lyla coy as hell, as if she was trying to bait him.

She would never learn.

“Off,” he grunted with a jerk of his head.

“Fuck you. She’s not goin’ anywhere,” argued Scorpion, palming her breasts

“Sun is fuckin’ up,” he barked. “You know the damn rules.”

When Lyla ignored his command and began to lift her hips in defiance, she did it staring directly into Twister’s eyes.

He moved so quickly he wasn’t sure who was more surprised—her or himself.

With a fistful of her hair in his grasp, he yanked her forward, forcing her to her feet. She yelped as she fell, but she managed to steady herself as he angled her head so she had no choice but to look at him when he all but growled, “Get gone.Now.”

She whimpered as he let her go then raced for the hallway, disappearing into the bathroom.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Scorpion bellowed as he stood, pulling up his pants in anger.

“I’m the VP of this club, you motherfucker. You want to screw her, be my guest—but the sun is up, which means the clubhouse is still kid friendly.”

“You see any kids around here?” he yelled.

“Does it look like I give a shit?”

“How ‘bout you take it down a notch, brother—it’s all good,” piped in Dog, obviously attempting to defuse his VP.

Twister glared at him and muttered, “How ‘bout you stay the fuck out of this. You were here. You should have said somethin’.”

Dog took a step back, biting his tongue, knowing Twister was right.

When Twister shifted his attention back toward Scorpion, he was turning to walk away. Twister pressed his palm square in the middle of the man’s chest and pushed.

“You’re not goin’ anywhere. We need to talk.”

“Funny how you think I’m inclined to do so after you chased off that pussy. Rumor has it, she used to be sweet on you. But as I understand it, you ditched her for Red.” A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth before he continued, “Not that I blame you.”

Yet another statement Twister didn’t quite understand.