Roman (Iron Tzars MC #2) Read Online Marteeka Karland

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Erotic, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Iron Tzars MC Series by Marteeka Karland

Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)

Winter -- My life hasn’t been easy. For so long, my sister has been the only one I could rely on. When we were teenagers our father sold us to sexual predators who hurt us. We both have the scars to prove it. But we were rescued, and I got revenge for both of us. That was over a decade ago. I love the home we found with Black Reign, but now it’s time to move on. To live outside the cocoon the club wrapped us in. Another club who’s found a girl in a situation similar to the hell we left behind all those years ago may be our answer. One man in particular calls to me on a primitive level. His name is Roman. And I want him for my own.

Roman -- I’m the enforcer for Iron Tzars. Violence is in the job description. Never thought I’d find myself attracted to a woman as fragile as Winter. She and her sister have been through a lot, but there’s a core of iron in her. She’s stronger than she looks, and the fight in her stirs the primitive Alpha male inside me. It’s time I show her she’s more than the sum of her scars. She’s a friggin’ goddess.

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Chapter One


I’d never been so glad to leave a place behind as I cheerfully rolled out of Lake Worth, Florida. I did my part as enforcer for Iron Tzars, but the entire time we’d been there I felt like we were outgunned. Black Reign MC might not be a rival club, but they were by no means safe. As evidenced by the way they took care of business with the fucking men we’d caught taking orphans from the group home in the city.

Violence didn’t bother me. If a motherfucker deserved it, there was no limit. My balls were twitching because of the casual ease with which that bastard, Chief, had taken the skin off the men he tortured. Yeah, Brick had participated, but our VP was emotionless on the best of days. Chief and El Diablo were different. I wouldn’t say they enjoyed the act, but I wouldn’t say they didn’t, either. It hadn’t bothered them in the least.

But what really had me glad to see this place in my rear view were the twin women who haunted the place like ghosts. Eerily lovely, they always seemed to be where I was. Neither said anything, but they stared at me constantly. More than one of Black Reign’s members gave me the stink-eye over it, too though no one would tell me why. Only that I should stay away from them. I didn’t even know the pair’s names, for fuck’s sake! Didn’t want to know!

I drove the Bronco we’d taken as a chase vehicle down to Lake Worth. Normally I’d ride my bike with the other brothers, but someone had to drive the big thing back to Evansville. As Road Captain, the task would normally fall to Clutch, but he’d had a family emergency and had headed back early. After that, I’d drawn the short straw. My bike was stowed in the trailer, and here I was. Behind the wheel of a fucking cage.

Lost in thought, my eyes on the road as my brothers surrounded the cage in front and behind, I reached over and switched on the radio. I had no desire to dwell on another club. Not even one our former president -- and my long-time friend -- now belonged to. I was an enforcer in Iron Tzars. Not Sergeant at Arms. I didn’t need to find trouble, only punish it. Besides, if Sting -- our current president and son to the former president -- had decided Warlock had to be killed for his infractions against the club, I would be responsible for carrying out the sentence. I didn’t want to do that. It looked like El Diablo had forestalled anything in that regard, though I had no idea why. It was rare for anyone to leave the Iron Tzars. When they did, the situation was permanent. Warlock was only the second man I knew of not to die when he left or was asked to leave. Oh, well. Above my paygrade. I was just thankful I didn’t have to kill my brother.

A tap on my shoulder had my head whipping around. When I saw that same eerily lovely face I’d been trying not to think about right next to mine, I was so startled I jerked the wheel. The girl squealed and disappeared from my immediate vision.

“What the fuck?” The Bronco hit the rumble strips on the shoulder. My tires must have squealed, because several of the riders in front of us either glanced over their shoulder or turned their head slightly to look in their mirrors. They moved to the center lane in case I was out of control. When I slowed and pulled fully onto the shoulder, they followed.

I got as far over as I could but didn’t turn on my flashers. Though we weren’t hauling any contraband, I’d rather not enlist the help of a good Samaritan or, God forbid, the state police.

Once stopped, I put the thing in park and turned around. “What the everlasting, God forsaken fuck are you doing in my fuckin’ vehicle?” I growled at the girl but tried not to yell. I got the feeling she was fragile and, though I was angry, I didn’t want to scare her. As I spoke, the other one poked her head from behind the backseat in the cargo area. “Shoulda guessed. You two ain’t ever far apart.” There was a knock at my window, saving the girls from a lecture.

Instead of rolling down the window, I opened the door and stepped out. The two girls ducked back behind the seat, the first one having returned to what had probably been their hiding place in my fucking Bronco.

“You good?” Brick peered inside the vehicle, looking for a threat. His hand was on the gun at his hip, but he didn’t draw.

“Yeah. Just realized I had a couple of stowaways.”