Cyrus (Iron Tzars MC #8) Read Online Marteeka Karland

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC Tags Authors: Series: Iron Tzars MC Series by Marteeka Karland
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Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
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“‘Cause she didn’t even fucking flinch.” That worried me. The only time she’d reacted was when Stitches had checked her eyes. The rest of the time, she slept peacefully. “You sure I should take her back to the clubhouse, Stitches? What if she’s been drugged with something that she needs to be monitored for?”

“Then I’ll call and have you bring her back. I’m betting it’s just the alcohol. She didn’t have a reaction to the Narcan, so it’s not anything with opiates involved. The best thing is for her to get those fluids and sleep it off. Main thing to watch for is vomiting. You don’t want her on her back. Be best to have her on her side. That way she doesn’t aspirate if she gets sick and she won’t get smothered if she’s too drunk to move the pillow away from her face if she’s on her stomach.”

I knew all this, of course. I didn’t need anyone fucking telling me how to take care of a drunk. Looking down at her beautiful face, though, I felt a sliver of apprehension coil in my belly. This woman was in my care. She was the sister of a man I considered a close friend. Though every man in Iron Tzars MC was my brother, I didn’t have many people I considered a friend. The compulsion to take care of Odette was too strong to ignore and that had to be because of my loyalty to Blade. Not because of Odette herself. She was nothing to me.

But as I continued to look at her, I grew more and more possessive of her. That feeling had nothing to do with my friend and everything to do with the woman in my arms. I shook myself. I had to get a grip on these feelings. This is why I hated dealing with emotions. There was no good reason for them. I didn’t even know this girl! I’d met her exactly once and it hadn’t been the best of meetings. In fact, I was pretty sure she hated me after I’d carried her like a sack of potatoes to her brother and ratted out her and the prospect she was with for sneaking into the Bane compound without getting permission from a patched member.

I took her back to the Bronco. Wylde was standing next to the cage, one hand braced on the back quarter panel while he bent double and heaved his guts up. There is nothing that smells worse than alcoholic vomit. If this was in Odette’s future, I had no idea how I’d handle it. I told myself it was because the smell would be unbearable. In reality, I wasn’t looking forward to seeing her as miserable as Wylde looked. Just the thought put a sharp pain in my chest, and I settled Odette closer to me, rubbing my cheek against her silky hair.

Then I jerked myself straight, letting her head fall back against my shoulder. What the fuck was this? Odette was drunk. An inconvenience at best. If she was miserable because she’d drank too much, it would serve as a reminder for her not to do this ever again! I should be looking forward to making tomorrow as miserable for her as I planned on doing to Wylde. But the thought made my chest hurt worse. There was no way I was going to be glad she was hurting and miserable. Why? Good Goddamned question.

Good Goddamned question.

Chapter Two

Odette

There was currently a freight train and a jackhammer storming and pounding their way through my head. My eyes felt like someone had thrown sand in them and my mouth tasted like my cat had shit in my mouth.

Lovely.

“Fuckin’ bitch.” I mumbled as I groaned and turned over. Thankfully, the room was dark. Woo-hoo for blackout curtains. Once on my back, the room spun horribly so I let my leg fall off the bed. Only it didn’t touch the floor. So I groaned again as I scooted to the edge…

And promptly fell off the bed with a thud.

“Ohhhh…” I groaned, knowing I should get up. Instead, I lay on my back with my knees bent and didn’t move.

“My, my, my. Someone had a rough night.”

The voice was deep, gruff, and disturbingly familiar. “Fuck you.” I threw out the insult with no real heat. It was reflex. Besides, who would have the audacity to approach me before I’d had my coffee? Whoever he was, he was just asking to get his balls handed to him.

“Need coffee.”

“Yeah, that would probably help the headache. Got some Ibuprofen and Gatorade for you too. Want to feel better? You’ll take them and go back to bed.”

I squinted and looked up at the man standing over me. The room was dark so I couldn’t see him, but I wasn’t scared. Which was odd. I hated strange men getting too close to me. But this guy was different. At least, I thought he was. I had vague memories of him carrying me out of the bar.


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