Twisted Asphalt (Asphalt Outlaw Series Book 1) Read Online Free

face.
    She spun around and bolted for the door, leaving behind a
surprised and sputtering Demon. She knew Maggie was behind her, but didn’t
care. How could someone love that piece of shit? Who in their right mind would
take that kind of abuse?
    Demon was right behind them, brushing past both of them. He
paused long enough to glare at Maggie, snarling at her. “I’ll deal with you
later.”
    Did he just really?
    Yes. Yes, he did.
    Amy watched Demon walk off toward his bike. She was going to
blow a gasket. She had to get out of there. Turning around, she nearly slammed
into Maggie.
    Brain to mouth filter? Malfunctioned.
    “Why do you let that arrogant asshole treat you like that?”
Amy couldn’t help but yell at her best friend.
    Maggie balked at being yelled at, stuttering, “I—I left with
you, didn’t I?”
    Amy threw her hands in the air and turned around in a slow
circle, counting to ten. She loved Maggie, but sometimes, she swore the girl
was dense. Dragging in a deep breath, she pulled Maggie into a hug. “Let’s get
out of here before half of Orcutt thinks we’re having a torrid affair.”
     
    * * * *
     
    Washing bar glasses sucked.
    Being a prospect sucked.
    He’d get over it, maybe after he was done with the damn
glasses these assholes used all night. This was one of those shit jobs that he
didn’t like, but it was all part of it.
    He’d be razzed all day about Stone’s daughter putting him on
his ass, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it, unless he wanted
to eat leather. If he opened his mouth, he would get punished in some fashion
he really wouldn’t like. The last prospect had to wear a string bikini and wash
every damn hog in the parking lot of the clubhouse. That shit was so not happening
to him. The other punishment was getting your ass beat. Some things he would
take, but taking an ass beating and not fighting back?
    Fuck that.
    He’d end up killing someone.
    Seeing Stone’s coffee cup empty, Mace dried off his now
raisin-looking hands and grabbed the pot of coffee to give him a refill. As he
was pouring, the front door of the clubhouse slammed open, then banged closed
as Demon stormed in.
    Romeo’s bald head snapped up at the loud intrusion, single
brow lifted in question. Years of cigarettes made his voice deep and scratchy.
“Your ass on fire?”
    The cold, dark eyes of the sergeant at arms leveled on
Romeo. “We need a meeting, now.” Demon stalked past Stone, Romeo, and several
of the club brothers toward the Chapel Room where they held their regular
church meetings. A place Mace was not privileged to enter until he was patched
in.
    He wanted those three patches.
    Currently, he had two: a Six-Gun Outlaw top rocker, prospect
bottom rocker. When he was patched in, the bottom rocker would be replaced with
his state tag, California, and he’d be wearing a center patch that said it all:
two six-guns crossed with a skull in the center wearing a bullet-hole-ridden
cowboy hat. It was a sick-looking patch with an evil glint that let everyone
know these brothers rode in death’s glory.
    Stone cleared his throat, thumb rubbing against the whiskers
on his chin. “Take your dishpan hands, prospect, and head out to my place. Go
to the barn and grab a box of spare parts I have in the last stall.”
    “Heard.” Mace nodded, jotting down the address of the
president’s home.
    “Take your cage. It won’t fit in the saddle bags.” Stone
pushed away from the bar, scooped up the coffee cup, and headed to the room.
     

CHAPTER 3
     
    “Good freaking God,” Mace muttered when he pulled his pickup
onto the long driveway of the one hundred and thirty acre spread Stone called
home. The ranch was just off Rice Ranch Road behind wine country. The driveway
was asphalted, making it easier for bikes to travel on when they rolled
through. Fruit trees lined the winding drive on both sides, with wooden fencing
as a decorative piece. Sprawled out before him was an adobe Spanish-style