Snake An MC Romance Book 6 in the Twisted Devils MC By Zahra Girard Copyright © 2020 by Zahra Girard All rights reserved. This ebook or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you'd like to share this book with another, please purchase a separate copy for them. Thank you for respecting the hard work that went into my work. Connect With Me Thank you so much for checking out my book. 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Thank you, -Zahra Table of Contents Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Epilogue – Adella Want More Steamy Action? The Twisted Devils MC Book one: Razor Book two: Rusty Book Three: Mack Book Four: Blaze Book Five: Crash The Rebel Riders MC: Book one: Thrash Book two: Riot Book three: Duke Book four: Rooster Book five: Creole Book six: Bull The Wayward Kings MC Series: Book one: Bear Book Two: Ozzy Book Three: Hazard Book Four: Preacher Other books by Zahra Girard: His Captive Liar Chapter One Adella “Mom, I need a tattoo.” The small, nine-year-old voice that delivers this statement does it with such gravity and determination that I can’t help but look up from the glasses I’m washing and gaze across the clubhouse to where Violet, Sophia, Kendra, and little Matyas are sitting at a table. Josie’s standing next to the table, hands on her hips, and her head angled so forcefully to the side that, if she tilts it any more, she’ll fall over. “Oh, so you want a tattoo now, little Speed Demon?” Snake says. He’s sitting at a different table, not far away, drinking beers with Mack. Both men turn to the girl with smiles on their faces. In the months she’s been here, Josie’s become the adopted daughter of practically every man in the club. It’s sweet to see how they dote on her and indulge her desire to get as involved in the club’s life as she possibly can. Just the other day, I overheard Snake and Brewer speculating on what the smallest, lightest motorcycle out there is, and what would be an appropriate age to teach Josie to ride. “Not want, Snake. I need it. I’ve decided,” Josie says, then she turns to Kendra. “But I promise it won’t be big, mom.” Kendra smiles at her daughter. “Oh, nothing big, huh? So, what kind of tattoo do you want, Josie?” “Just a small one. And fun. I saw a unicorn in Sophia’s sketchbook the other day. Maybe I could get that. And I’d want it on my cheek.” Mack bursts out laughing. It’s a full belly-laugh that booms through the entire room. “A face tattoo? You don’t do anything halfway, do you, Speed Demon?” “I like unicorns,” she says, as if that should absolutely be enough of an explanation for a face tattoo. “But I’d want it to look tough. And maybe have some blood on its horn. Then, maybe later, I could get a zombie or a vampire on my other cheek. So it’d be like they’re fighting.” Kendra’s mouth drops open and she stares at her daughter, speechless. “I think that sounds like a superb idea, Josie,” Sophia says, and the second the words leave her mouth she catches a fiery look from Kendra. “But you don’t want that kind of tattoo on your face.” “But I do,” Josie says. Her head tilts a little more and I’m sure I see her wobble and almost lose her balance. “You don’t. That’s the kind of tattoo that would scare everyone — future employers, especially, and even just people you meet on the street. That would be a bad move, because then everyone would know how tough you are and you’d lose one of your biggest advantages in a fight: surprise,” Sophia says. “Mack, you know what I’m talking about, right? Tell her.” Josie turns to Mack, a suspicious look on her face. Mack nods. “Toughest fight I ever had in my life was against a guy with Snoopy on his forehead.” “I think you’re lying,” Josie says. “He’s not, Speed Demon,” Snake says. “I was there. I nearly got the snot beat out of me by a guy with double rainbows on his cheeks.” “Now I think you’re lying,” I call out across the bar. I smile at him as he glances over at me, surprised. “Beat up by someone with rainbows on their cheeks? Come on, Snake, I’ve been tending bar for a long time, I know when someone’s telling a tall tale.” “You’re not helping, Adella,” Snake says. “And you’re wrong. Mardi Gras in New Orleans is no joke.” “Especially when you’re a fifth of whiskey deep and some drunk punks decide they don’t like the look of your cut,” Mack adds. “Or maybe they thought the leather we were wearing meant we were interested
