Read Forbidden Beauty (Coffin Cheaters Motorcycle Club) for Free Online

well in 2014 both used this one old-timey-movie phrase,
at different intervals? Oh, but...wait. Shit.
    “That's right, you sons o' bitches. The Styx are back
in town.”
    An angry ripple tore through the crowd. I felt my limbs go
numb. Dog, after shaking his head and murmuring a curse to the ground, noticed
my pallor. He drew me under his smelly armpit, started patting my head like I
was a Labrador.
    “Didn't we run those sad sacks out?” called Viper, a young
kid who'd already lost a lot of his natural beauty to an unfortunate love
affair with methamphetamine.
    “We did once before. We'll do it again.”
    “I'd like to fucking SLICE those sons of whores. Tear every
single one of 'em limb from limb, like a beast.”
    “I wanna burn them. Nice and slow-like.”
    “Motherfuckers gave me THIS SCAR! Everyone see it? Everyone
seen my scar?”
    “HEY.” A hush fell. Tall Man had done the improbable: risen
to speak in a crowded room. “We are all full of anger. But attention must be
paid, and pans must me considered. We will accomplish nothing unless we are
strong.” Then, the cold-eyed prophet turned to me. Everyone's eyes seemed to
follow suit.
    “There is one among us who has lost family to these
miserable dirtbags,” Dixon broke in, his voice rent with uncharacteristic pity.
“Our very own baby girl here. So as we contemplate how to respond to the
threat, I want you to think about the good men we've lost to the Knights of
Styx.” The riders murmured a slow, dopy assent. These men, for all their
bravery, were intimidated by planning. Coffin Cheaters were men of action,
Coffin Cheaters were soldiers. I felt a burst of relief, imagining how all this
rabble-rousing still might come to nothing. I sure as hell didn't want a fight.
Especially when...
    “There's another thing, boys. Before we all get to the
drink,” this was Flapper now, his angry little voice cutting high above the
crowd. “Because we must appear strong, it seems high-time that our MC
re-establish some of its old hierarchies. With this in mind, we'd like to appoint
a Den Mother, to help with some of the club's inner workings. Thankfully, we've
already got a nice candidate for the job right here in our midst: Ms. Gisele
Owens.”
    Yet again, the whole MC pivoted in my direction. I felt my
traitorous face bloom hot again, so uncomfortable was I with the attention.
    “Whyn't you stand up and stake your claim,” Dog hissed into
my ear. “You're already like our Den Mother. Comes with a bit more
responsibility, is all.”
    I was dazed, so I followed the directive. As soon as I was
standing tall, the Crossroads erupted into cheers. In spite of myself, I did
feel a little honored. Dad was probably looking down from (or up from...)
wherever he was, puffing up with pride at his baby's being officially inducted
into the MC that had shaped his life. The support of the men, it did mean
something to me.
    “With Gisele as our Den Mother, she must be treated with
absolute respect. She'll get a say in how the club moves, have a hand in our
financial operations, and most importantly, will help the council decide what's
to be done with the Knights of Styx MC,” Dixon explained. As punctuation, he
spewed out a long, brown trail of chew.
    “...so when the time is right, we can waste every last one
of em. Slaughter them like little piggies. Vengeance will be ours, boys!”
    And the men cheered.
     
    * * *
     
    As soon as the meeting concluded, my formerly love-addled
mind kicked into high-gear again. With a racing pulse, I ran back to the
shelter of my bedroom to think, to pace, to attempt to make some plan of my
own.
    Unsavory characters. By itself, the word choice
wasn't much of a coincidence—it wasn't the craziest thing I'd heard a Cheater
say, by any means—but something about how Scotty and Carter had murmured the
term suggested a code... I live by a code, and I just hope someone would do
the same for me. Then there was this clue: Knox had fled the tiki-bar