Page 2 of Twist’s Raven (31 Days of Trick or Treat: Biker & Mobster #6)

Chapter Two

M axwell “Twist” Graham saw the sign for the rest area five miles ahead and decided he’d stop there.

He was a couple hours from home and had drunk entirely too much coffee trying to stay awake tonight.

Thirty-six hours without sleep while he and some friends chased an unexpected flare-up of tornadoes had him dragging.

Although he was a Bluff Creek Brotherhood MC nomad, after his brother Booker had found his woman, Lexi, they’d all pretty much adopted her family’s Logan Falls ranch as their home base.

He loved the freedom of being a nomad but also enjoyed the home-cooked meals he could get at the ranch.

The tranquil rolling hills and atmosphere always recharged him.

He was looking forward to some downtime while the vehicle he used for storm chasing, which he named Storm Sweeper, was being repaired in Kansas City.

A couple panels had come loose and were being welded back on.

He also had the man adding a drop-down bed with a real mattress and reupholstering the seats to stand up to being rained on.

He’d made do with a sleeping bag sometimes, but he was getting too old for that.

Storm Sweeper was a modified Ford van with all-terrain tires and four-wheel drive.

His equipment took up the majority of the room in the vehicle, but he was adding a real bed .

Being around Booker, who had found Lexi after years apart, along with Lexi’s mom falling for their club brother Compass, had Twist wishing for a woman of his own.

Their MC was more family-oriented than many others.

The original chapter in Bluff Creek, Kansas, hadn’t had club girls on the premises since the nineteen seventies.

But Twist was fine with that. The days of just wanting a warm body were gone for him.

Being in his forties, there were days he felt ancient.

His time in the military had hardened him, not to mention the toll it had taken on his body.

Now that he was thinking about it, one of the brothers needed to fall for a masseuse.

Wouldn’t that be an added benefit if he could have someone get the knots and tight muscles in better shape?

Of course, that was assuming one of his brothers would allow their woman to have her hands all over his body.

Maybe he could suggest the tattoo shop look at adding a masseuse.

He was sure the women of Bluff Creek Brotherhood could keep one pretty busy without anyone else.

He'd make the pit stop and then push his baby to her max to get home tonight.

He’d grabbed his 1997 Harley Davidson Softail Heritage Springer from the Saint’s Outlaws MC clubhouse to get home.

He’d removed the small passenger pad about six months ago and replaced it with a larger case for clothing.

He’d had it specially made to match the original fringe on his seat and leather saddlebags.

It had cost him a pretty penny, but he lived frugally and had never been one of those soldiers who spent everything he earned.

And he had his inheritance. His parents were older when they had him and had passed a couple years ago.

It was probably why he latched onto being a part of the MC.

It had given him a brotherhood like the Army but had also given him family again.

He was an only child who’d been born to only children.

Twist considered himself a positive person most days, but when he imagined a family, it hurt knowing his parents would never know his children.

Even though his parents had been worried about him, they’d never curtailed his dreams of serving in the military or his fascination with storms. He’d turned that fascination into an obsession that not only provided endless hours of adrenaline for him but also became a stream of income.

He loved storm chasing. Tornadoes were his favorite and his bread and butter on his online channel.

But he also did other storms when tornadoes weren’t quite as prevalent.

Twist grinned to himself, thinking about this storm-chasing trip. It had been late in the season, and Stinger, one of the Saint’s Outlaws MC members, had asked to go with Twist.

Twist and his buddies had laughed more this trip than ever before because Stinger hadn’t remotely prepared for how close they’d be to the tornado.

A couple times, Twist had wanted to ask Stinger if he’d watched any movies with tornadoes or even remembered seeing an actual tornado since Stinger had grown up in Kansas.

Watching a two hundred and forty-pound, six-foot-five tall man scream like a baby had been entertaining.

His screech of I’m gonna die had them laughing, but his threat of I’m gonna kill you all if you share this had been hysterical.

Maybe because he’d been huddling on the floor of Storm Sweeper, trying to hide at the time.

And yep, that video had been shared with all of the Bluff Creek Brotherhood MC and the Saint’s Outlaws MC and on Twist’s social media.

Heck, that video alone had over one million views.

Lexi had suggested making T-shirts to sell with Stinger’s face on them and the phrase I’m Gonna Die .

Twist would have to think through all the ramifications besides getting Stinger’s approval to sell them.

Twist wasn’t sure how scary anyone would think the Saint’s Outlaws MC Enforcer was after seeing him cowering on the floor of the van.

Twist signaled he was taking the exit and rolled into the parking lot, parking close to the restrooms, though the parking lot was pretty empty, so he had his choice of places.

The emptiness was probably why the black van caught his eye.

Let’s face it. A van sitting by itself in what appeared to be a deserted rest area had his senses tingling.

After being in the military, Twist never discounted his instincts. They’d saved him multiple times.

A flash of white by the restrooms had him shutting down his motorcycle, then getting off and bending down. He wanted to appear harmless, and checking his bike for a problem would do that.

The flash of white caught his eye again. He turned enough to see but not to catch the attention of the group. It appeared to be two men pulling a woman in a wedding gown toward the van. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Pit, the Saint’s Outlaws President, and his men had been discussing with Twist how much human trafficking had increased over the last six months. Or maybe the traffickers were just getting braver because law enforcement didn’t seem to be doing much about it.

The SOMC, along with Bluff Creek, was working to dismantle a network that had tentacles everywhere. A couple months ago, they’d taken down three huge players. But it didn’t guarantee there weren’t more to take their place.

Twist slid his gun out of his saddlebag and then sprinted toward the men.

“Hey, leave her alone,” he yelled, running toward them. His first choice was to avoid taking on the men. His hope was they’d decide escape was easier than fighting.

The men decided to ignore him and picked up speed, dragging the woman along, holding her under her arms, her white dress trailing on the ground behind her .

He’d worry about where they found a bride later. Now he needed to get the upper hand before they tossed her in the van and tore off. As he ran, he shot toward the van, aiming for the tires.

At the sound of gunshots, the men carried the woman a little farther, then must have decided it was too much work and dropped her.

As he got close to where they’d dropped her, they started the van and peeled out of there.

A mud-covered license plate didn’t even give him a tag to have Scoop, their tech guy, search for.

He glanced down at the woman on the ground and reached to move her thick blonde hair and veil out of her face. Gray eyes glaring up at him had him pausing, but then her face smoothed out. What the hell? Wasn’t she happy he just rescued her ?

“Are you okay?” he asked. Maybe he’d imagined it because now she wasn’t glaring.

“I’m not sure,” she said.

Twist held his hand out to help her up. Something was still off about this.

Her hair was blonde, thick with lighter streaks in it and in a bun that had come loose during her tussle with the two men.

The dress had a couple tears in the skirt and had leaves stuck to the lace on the bottom.

The white lace short sleeves highlighted the pale skin of her arms, which were surprisingly sleek with muscles.

Nothing about this was making sense, but he would never have allowed someone to be hurt on his watch.

She took his hand and stood up, swaying a little. Twist pulled her close.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I hitched a ride to get away from my family, who wanted me to marry an ass. Unfortunately, the guy who gave me a ride didn’t want to just supply the ride.

When I said no to a blow job as the price, he dumped me here.

I texted an old friend who runs a towing company to pick me up, but then those guys got me as I came out of the restroom,” she huffed, rubbing her arms.

“You seemed almost mad when I first helped you,” he said.

“I was mad at them and myself for not being aware,” she said, leaning her head on his shoulder. A tremble went through her body.

“I just couldn’t believe it was happening,” she said softly.

“Okay, I need to hit the restroom before going on. Do you want to come by the door? Where is your friend you texted?” he asked. Something was still off, but Twist was willing to play along until he could figure out why the hot-as-hell woman was lying her ass off to him.

“He was still a half hour away before they grabbed me.” She shuddered again. “Could you maybe give me a ride so I don’t have to wait as long? This place is creeping me out,” she asked quietly.

Twist had a hard time concentrating on what she asked.

He was distracted by her big gray eyes with thick lashes and lush lips, which could look fantastic wrapped around…

and he needed to stop thinking about that because his cock was already half hard.

He didn’t need to try to ride with a steel pole trying to punch through his jeans.

Besides the fact, he still needed to piss something fierce.

“Yeah, I can give you a ride. Let me actually take care of what I came here for, and we can leave,” he said, walking toward the bathrooms. She followed right behind.

“I’ll stand right here outside the door, but if they come back, I’ll be running in,” she said.

He walked in and spent time trying to convince his cock to go down so he could piss.

He finished and washed his hands, then headed back out to his bike. It had turned chilly, and the wind blowing through the bare trees, with the shadowy light from the moon, set the scene for every Halloween movie he’d ever seen.

The woman whose name he still didn’t know was standing by the door in a decidedly shorter dress than earlier. At least with it being knee-length, he wouldn’t worry quite so much about it getting caught in the spokes .

“So maybe we should exchange names before I give you a ride,” he said as they walked toward his bike.

She stuck out her hand, “Britt Meadows, thank you so much for the rescue. I know once I’m home and reflect on this, I’ll be crying, realizing how close I was to being taken.”

“Name’s Twist and glad I came along. You get ahold of your friend?” Twist asked.

“Yes. He said he’d meet us at an exit about thirty minutes down the road,” she said.

“Have you ridden on a bike before?” he asked.

“Umm, yeah, it’s how I knew I needed to shorten my skirt.”

Her soft voice turned him on. He should be thankful she wouldn’t be on his bike longer than a half hour, but the time she was would be torture .

Britt got on behind him.

He realized it was chilly, and her dress didn’t cover much.

“There’s a sweatshirt in my saddlebags.”

She leaned over and got his sweatshirt out.

He waited while she slipped it on before starting up the bike.

Once she’d grabbed onto his waist, he took off.

She was cuddled right up to him because his added clothing storage didn’t leave much room for a passenger.

A little bit of guilt at not even having a “pussy pad” had him hoping she wasn’t too uncomfortable.

Though if his brother’s wife, Lexi, heard him, he’d get this whole lecture that no woman wanted to hear a man using the word “pussy” unless it was the man saying, This pussy belongs to me .

Since meeting Lexi, he knew more about romance books than he’d ever thought he would.

Though now that he had some favorite authors, he read a lot of romance.

Sometimes he needed to escape from the nastiness of the world to the world of happily ever afters where love won.

He still loved reading thrillers, but sometimes the world was a place he wanted to escape from.

He pulled out onto the road and sped up when he realized Britt wasn’t lying about being comfortable on a bike.

He focused on the road and the other vehicles, who half the time didn’t care about where a motorcycle was.

Middle of October had the moon in the waning crescent phase, and it was dark.

He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake giving her a ride, but his instincts once again were screaming; only this time they were shouting she was on the up and up.