Page 14 of Royally Twisted

Women lay on the long tables, their bodies on display with different assortment of food placed strategically on them. He shook his head at the offer. The only body he wanted to eat off of was Ivy’s.

“Drink? You know it’s rude not to accept an offer from your host?” King snagged a bottle of beer from one of the buckets on the table between the two women. He then ran the cold bottle up the calf and inner thigh of the one on the left. The redhead closed her eyes, moaning at his actions.

Tymber didn’t want the bottle that had just been rubbed all over the woman. His hand reached for a bottle, glad when nobody struck out at him. “Thanks,” Tymber said after he downed half the contents of the cold brew.

“My pleasure. Now, let’s have a seat and talk, shall we?” King made another sweeping motion, getting people to move from their spots, leaving two chairs open plus the one at the head which clearly belonged to the president.

Tymber sat in one of the chairs, the fine hair on the nape of his neck standing on end. “While I appreciate the hospitality, why don’t you tell me exactly what’s brought me here?” He took another healthy swig from the bottle.

King tipped his bottle toward him. “You know, I always liked you. You do good work and don’t seem to shake easily. I admire that in a man. Now, I got a question for you, and I want you to think before you answer.”

Placing the bottle on the table, he waited for King to continue. Fuck, he swore the entire place had gone quiet, yet he could still hear music. “I’m always honest. No reason not to be. Besides, it cuts the bullshit down when you just spit shit out truthfully.”

“You fucking Ivy, and if so for how long? And, before you think to get stupid, know your answers are very important to your health.” King’s hand flexed and unflexed on the table.

Shit. Was she one of theirs? He tried to think back to the past few weeks. There’d been no sign of a boyfriend nor did she let on she knew the club when he’d talked about tattooing King that first night. “My first inclination is to tell you it’s none of your business, but I have a feeling that’s not going to go down really well.”

King nodded. “You’d be right. So, what’s your answers? Do I need to ask the questions again or are you just working up the courage to tell me to my face you been fucking my brother’s old lady?”

Shock held him immobile for a second. “What the fuck do you mean? Your brothers’ old lady?”

King motioned to someone behind him, but Tymber kept his eyes on the leader, his next words would be a defining moment in his life.

“Ivy is my brother Luke’s girl, didn’t you know?”

“I’m not nor have Iever been any of the club members’ old lady,” Ivy shouted.

Tymber jumped up, reaching out for Ivy, only to come up short as another member shoved the tip of a knife near his throat. “The Prez ain’t done talking to you,” the guttural words said with such menace, silenced him.

“Rooster, back the fuck off him with that knife, or so help me I’ll be shoving it so far up your ass the sun will be the last thing you think about,” Ivy warned. Her heart had been racing the entire drive from outside Twisted Ink and didn’t seem ready to slow a bit.

“Everyone out,” King said, his voice booming above the other sounds.

It wasn’t a hot night, but she swore her entire body had to be sweating from fear and adrenalin. She kept her eyes on Rooster and his wicked looking knife. The man was a lover of making his point with a blade. She shifted her focus to King, moving forward, her hand brushing Tymber’s. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Alright, now that the only ones here are family.” King nodded, waiting until the entire MC club seemed to surround them.

Ivy thought they’d be somewhat safe since there were others around who weren’t fully patched members who’d brought their old ladies. She should have known King didn’t play by one set of rules. “King, it’s me you’re mad at. Let Tymber go and I’ll—” she licked her lips before continuing in a firm tone. “I’ll do whatever you ask of me, just don’t fuck with him.”

King gave a dry chuckle, sitting back down in his chair as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Tymber’s arms flexed, showing the muscles and strength he had within him. She didn’t doubt one bit he could take on any member of the Royal MC and probably win. However, he’d be taking on more than just one man.

“Sit, Ivy. We’ve things to discuss.” King tapped the table, expecting obedience.

“Look, King, I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but this shit ain’t cool,” Tymber growled.

Ivy turned to see what Rooster did to Tymber. There were rules in an MC. One of them being respect the President. Tymber’s little outburst could be deemed disrespectful. Her focus was ensnared by the man who she cared too much about. Within the club, the golden rule is that club comes first, loyalty and commitment to the wellbeing of the club is always first priority. This is never to be questioned. After club then comes the brothers and sisters, family, friends, job, personal possessions and even personal safety.

“Ah, look at that, boys, she’s already replaced my brother,” King said. His voice that deadly quiet.

She’d only heard him use that tone when he was pissed or discussing club business. The fact he was allowing Tymber to stay while she and he had their talk wasn’t good. Nobody but club members were allowed when discussing anything club related.

“You know there’s two types of people in the world in my mind. There’s my brothers and sisters, and then there’s those who are a potential threat to our club. Which do you think your friend falls into, Ivy?” King let the silence linger, then he pointed to the chair again. “I suggest you sit down, little girl, unless you want to see my bad side come out.”

It took her seconds to do as he said, her heart pounded in her chest with fear and anger she was having to go through this. “Why?” she asked.

King sat back, his arms crossing over his chest, drawing her gaze to the cut he wore and the patch that marked him as President. “Let’s start by discussing why you’ve not answered my calls or texts for the past couple months.”

She tried to keep her hands from shaking as she placed them on the table. “I...I didn’t know what to say. I think you said it all at—” she swallowed the lump in her throat. “You said enough the last time we spoke. I figured it would be best if I removed myself from, everything.”

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