Savage Saints MC Series (Complete Box Set)

by Hazel Parker

  Laundry was always the most exhausting task of her week. She usually had enough spare sheets that she only had to do it every five or six days, but it was a big job, taking all the baskets to the laundromat and waiting for them to wash and dry before loading them back into her truck and then having to make all the beds again. By the time she was finished with all the rooms except Vance’s, which she’d already told him that she wasn’t going to clean, she was exhausted, sore, and hot. She’d worked up a sweat doing all this, and the small, stuffy office was too uncomfortable for her to stand, so she instead opted for sitting just outside the motel office on the curb, where the brisk air allowed her to catch her breath again. She’d managed to close her eyes to relax when Vance’s bike pulled into the parking lot and she debated whether to go back inside and lock the door, but ultimately decided that she was just too tired to do so.

  “Hey, Red,” he greeted as he tugged off his helmet. “You look hot.” She felt her cheeks heat up, but when she opened her eyes to look at him, she found that his expression wasn’t one of lust, but of teasing: he was making fun of her for sitting outside in the middle of winter in a tank top.

  “Yeah, I just washed and replaced all the sheets in all ten rooms,” she replied, hoping that he hadn’t noticed her moment of being flustered. Vance whistled long and low.

  “That’s a big job,” he sympathized. “Your boyfriend doesn’t help you with that?”

  “He has his own work.”

  Vance shook his head. “Do you ever think about hiring another employee or something? Someone to help you run this place?”

  Nina shrugged, not moving as he sat down on the curb next to her, their legs spread out in front of them and nearly touching.

  “I don’t really have the budget for that,” she admitted. “But it’s not necessary, anyway. It’s not that big, so I manage it myself. That’s what my dad did, once I moved away to go to college.”

  Vance sighed. “Just because he did it alone, doesn’t mean that you can’t get some help, you know. I’m sure that he’d want you to make it as easy on yourself as you can, don’t you?”

  Nina’s eyes flashed with warning fire. “Please, don’t do that,” she commanded sternly. “Don’t try to act like you know me, or like you want what’s best for me or whatever. You’re the reason that the motel is in any danger at all, so I don’t need your advice.”

  “In danger?” he repeated, sounding surprised, which somehow made her angrier. “What do you mean? Danger from what?”

  “Your girlfriend paid me a visit,” she explained sourly. “She told me that if you screw up and piss off that other club that they’re going to think I’m helping you and take it out on the motel.” Vance ran a hand through his hair, actually looking a little stressed and guilty for the first time that Nina had seen, much to her surprise.

  “Kid, I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I can get out of here, if you want. Find an apartment or something.”

  Nina shrugged. “Is that really going to matter?” He knew them better than she did, but she wasn’t confident that people who would make a threat like that would be terribly reasonable in negotiation, and he seemed to agree.

  “Damn it,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. You weren’t supposed to get sucked into something you know nothing about and have nothing to do with.”

  “Well, it happened,” Nina said bitterly.

  “Are you going to tell Adam?”

  Nina laughed. “So he can, what, chase you out of town and into hiding? I already told you, if you disappear, they’re going to assume I’m taking over your bullshit business or that I know where you are. Like it or not, I’m stuck with you now—and believe me, I don’t like it.” Vance shook his head pensively, looking distraught.

  “This is the reason I don’t ever settle down in one place,” he said. “People who get near me get their lives fucked up. I thought that staying somewhere temporary might prevent that from happening.”

  She looked at his face, intent on finding any trace of insincerity so that she wouldn’t have to believe that he was actually sorry or that he cared or regretted putting her in danger, but she couldn’t find one. He looked nothing but remorseful and miserable, bordering stressed about the whole scenario. She wanted to be angry at him, wanted to have the heart to tell him to fix this and then get out of her life forever, or to be able to have Adam arrest him and get rid of him for good. However, something inside her prevented her from doing so. Maybe she was weak, too empathetic for her own good, but when she could sense sincerity in an apology, she’d never been able to stay mad at anyone. Damn it.

  “You don’t have to leave,” she reassured him, trying not to sound too much like she was forgiving him too quickly. “The damage is done, anyway.”

  Vance winced but nodded. “Thanks,” he said. There was a long pause where they both sat there without a word. Nina had long-since cooled off from her exertion and was now feeling chilled. After a while, Vance noticed her rubbing her arms with her hands to generate heat and shrugged out of his jacket, handing it to her and then setting it over her shoulders when she didn’t accept it the first time. The sun was setting just in front of them and they watched it together without really being together, just sort of… next to one another. It wasn’t quite romantic but it wasn’t quite platonic, and Nina was glad that they weren’t still talking, because she was pretty sure that this would be the perfect setting, watching the sun set and wearing his coat, that the feelings that had made her kiss him the night before would resurface and she didn’t want to acknowledge that they might exist sober, too.

  “Nina,” he said, using just her first name for the first time since they’d met, she was pretty sure, “nothing is going to happen to the Oasis. I’m going to make sure of that.” She laughed humorlessly.

  “And how are you going to make sure of that?” she asked. It was a great promise, sure, but what were the chances that he’d even be able to make good on it?

  Vance simply stood, patting her on the shoulder gently as he did so. “Don’t worry about that,” he reassured. “Don’t worry about anything. I’m going to handle it.”

  She didn’t like being kept in the dark. Nina hated not knowing things, especially things that pertained to her dad’s motel. After so many years of being attached to it, and now with it being the last real connection that she still had with her dad, she was even more protective of it. She hadn’t lied when she’d told Vance that she couldn’t afford another employee, but that wasn’t the only reason that she hadn’t hired one. Truth be told, she had a hard time letting go of control, of trusting someone else to take as good care of the place as she would, because no one would prioritize it like she did. However, when Vance looked at her so intensely, his gaze sure and promising as he swore to her that everything would be okay… Well, she found herself wanting to believe him. She found herself feeling protected even when she was in more danger than she’d ever been in her life. Everything was so safe with Adam because the danger didn’t exist, but with Vance? Vance would keep her safe because there was danger.

  She continued to sit on the curb for just a little while after Vance went inside his room, not wanting to get back to work so fast but knowing that she couldn’t justify doing anything else. Adam was still at work, after all, and wasn’t planning on coming over tonight, anyway. She’d be alone tonight, and that meant that she was probably going to be spending another night at the motel. It seemed like she was doing that more and more lately. However, she didn’t really mind; not with Vance here. She knew that if anything happened, she’d be safe, and if nothing else, as long as he was here, there was never a dull moment.

  Chapter 8: Vance

  The shit thing about being in a club like the one Vance was in was that there was no amount of time allotted for a learning curve because if things didn’t go perfectly the first time they were attempted, it meant that there were detrimental consequences. That said, today was going to be his first time making the trip
down to the greenhouse for the money he was supposed to transport back to the bar, and he wasn’t nervous, but would be lying if he said that he was 100% confident that this first time would go well. There was a lot to think about, after all: if he were followed, he’d expose the whole club’s location and activities. If he were pulled over on the way back with all that money, he’d be held under reasonable suspicion and questioned until they had enough information to arrest him. Justice in a small town was less structured than in big cities, and no one really cared if a detective played a little dirty or stepped out of bounds to get information from a possible criminal.

  Two days after his conversation with Amelia, he was supposed to go down to the greenhouse to get the first installment of money from the guys, and that meant a three hour ride into the desert and a three hour drive back. That part, he was looking forward to. After everything that had been going on lately, he could use some time on the road just to clear his head and take a minute for himself. Being on his bike gave him the opportunity to do just that: he didn’t have to think about anything except the stretch of road in front of him for basically the whole day. That and drinking were like a poor man’s therapy, the guys always joked, and though he didn’t drink as excessively as the others, Vance never had a shortage of either.

  Vance slept in because he didn’t need to open the bar, and when he finally rolled out of bed at about 9 a.m., Nina was sweeping cigarette butts out of the parking lot. Her hair was pulled up in a lazy, messy bun and she was wearing tight jeans and a low-cut sweater, looking casual and comfortable but still gorgeous. Nina could always manage to look beautiful no matter how much she dressed down or how little makeup she was wearing. He couldn’t help but return the smile that she gave him as she glanced up and waved when she saw him.

  “Good morning,” she greeted sardonically. “When I saw your bike in the parking lot, I figured you were sick or something. I was going to stop by and ask if you needed anything.”

  Vance shook his head. “I’m fine,” he dismissed, feeling shocked that she would have done something so kind for him even though he wasn’t a guest and was barely a friend.

  “Bar’s closed today, I guess?” she asked with a smirk. “Some kind of holiday I’m not aware of?”

  Vance chuckled. “Nah, Sheila and Marcos are running it by themselves today,” he replied. It hadn’t really occurred to him that he hadn’t had a day off since he’d taken over the bar and it didn’t feel so much like work as it did a hobby. He really liked his job a lot, more than any that he’d ever had before. The customers were always interesting and his employees were good at what they did.

  “And what are you doing that’s keeping you from work?”

  “A personal errand,” he said vaguely, hoping that she wouldn’t ask further details. Nina was in the same boat as he was with working every day of her life, but she had it even worse since she didn’t even have someone else to open the motel if she did need to take a day off. She must have worked every single day for the past six months. No wonder her boyfriend felt like he never had any time with her.

  Nina was smart enough to put two and two together and raised an eyebrow. “Make sure you’re not taking any of your work back home with you,” she warned, and Vance rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

  “Relax; I know better than that. I’ll be back before sunset. Nothing’s going to happen.”

  Nina nodded, hesitantly taking his word without argument. “Well, be safe,” she wished. “Those bikes are death traps, you know.”

  Vance laughed. “I know how you feel about them,” he said, “and your concern is noted.”

  “I’m not concerned.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he brushed her off. Before he stepped onto his bike, he turned to her with a mischievous grin, offering his helmet to her. “Wanna come?”

  He knew that she’d turn him down and she didn’t disappoint, flipping him her middle finger wordlessly.

  “I figured,” he chuckled. “What makes you think that they’re so dangerous, anyway?”

  Nina smiled patiently and waved to him. “Bye, Vance,” she dismissed, turning back to her chores without another word. For someone so open and honest, Nina sure did like to keep the most intriguing secrets from him. If he didn’t know better, he’d say that she was trying to draw him in. Instead of putting any more thought into it, he simply started up his bike and pulled out of the parking lot, took the long, winding road out of town, and hopped onto the highway toward the Chihuahuan Desert.

  The drive was a blur of wind in his face and cactuses along the highway skyline. The sun stayed high in the sky through the whole drive and he arrived just a little after 12:30, hungry from not having eaten breakfast and thirsty from the way the wind always made his mouth dry. His complaints were forgotten, however, when he stepped off his bike and was immediately greeted by Flip and another man, John, who was a few years older than he was and whom he hadn’t seen in quite a while. He pulled his helmet off and set it on his seat to greet them.

  “How the hell are you, kid?” Flip asked, pulling him in for a rough pat on the back. Vance returned the gesture before shoving him off.

  “Hey, old man,” he replied, “how’s it going?” He gave John a quick handshake and clap on the arm. “Johnny, how’s it hangin’?”

  John shrugged. “Same shit, different day,” he replied. With a little concern in his eyes, he looked to the road where Vance had come from. “The drive down didn’t give you any trouble, did it?” he asked, a thinly veiled way of asking whether he’d had the wherewithal to make sure he wasn’t followed.

  “None at all,” he returned, which put both of them at ease. “So, where do I pick up the money?”

  “Slow down, buddy,” Flip laughed, “it’s lunch time; we ain’t working right now. You hungry?”

  Vance smiled. “Starving.” Flip broke into a grin.

  “I thought so,” he replied, leading him toward the front door of a building that appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. On the inside, there was a front area with a few rooms with closed doors, and behind that were the plants. Blue lights hung from the ceiling to nourish and grow the rows and rows of marijuana, and Vance understood at once just how important it was that no one ever saw him come here. If he even accidentally lead someone here who would call the police, there would be no way to hide this much evidence, and the punishments for having this much pot would be way beyond just a ticket or a slap on the wrist. They’d be in serious trouble, all of them, if they were ever found out.

  “We buy this shit in bulk,” Flip said as he threw a plate of tamales into the microwave. “They’re so good. You’ll love them.” Being so close to the border, a lot of the restaurants around here served Mexican food, and since there was really nowhere here to cook, they ate out a lot. Vance had gotten used to doing that with all the time he spent on the road, too. Part of the lifestyle was that the closest thing that they got to a home-cooked meal was some little mom and pop dive, and while it was always good, sometimes he craved the warm comfort of a stew made by his grandmother. There was something about sitting down to a fresh-cooked meal in a living room full of loved ones that he didn’t get at a booth in a diner with the guys.

  Home-cooked or not, the tamales were damn delicious. He ate quite a few of them, since riding all morning had really worked up an appetite, while they sat around and chatted about dumb shit that didn’t pertain at all to work. They talked about sports and their bikes and even some politics, laughing at each other for stupid comments and making dumb jokes to one another. If there was one thing that Flip never rushed or cut corners on, it was a meal. He believed that people worked best when they were fed, not to mention that he got grumpy when he was hungry.

  Flip pushed his plate away with a satisfied moan, resting his hands on his stomach. “Oof, I ate too much,” he complained, a phrase with which he punctuated most meals.

  “You always say that, fatass,” John teased, earning himself a punch in the arm. Flip stood, stretching an
d yawning like he was waking from a nap.

  “Alright,” he sighed, “if I don’t get going again, I’m gonna fall asleep at the table. Murphy, you ready for the cash?” Vance nodded, following Flip and John through the rows of plants and toward an office in the very back of the building. They turned on the lights since the room was empty and Flip took out a ring of keys, searching for the right one before inserting it into a file cabinet and rummaging around until he pulled out a metal lockbox. He opened that, too, and took out a large wad of cash.

  “This here is $12,000. It’s not the most you’ll ever handle, and it’s not the least. We’re not giving you a dry run, kid. You get caught with this kind of green, by a cop or just by some lucky sap who tries to mug you, you’re in hot water.”

  Vance rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know, Flip,” he said lightly. “I think I can handle it.”

  Flip’s eyes went stone-serious. “They all do,” he replied sternly, “but you don’t want to know how many men I’ve seen try to do this job and get their dumb asses shot. I don’t want that to be you, Vance.”

  Flip was one of those guys that never really used first names. Most of them didn’t, honestly, Vance included, but Flip especially always opted for surnames or nicknames or endearing insults. For him to use Vance’s first name meant that he wanted him to know that he meant business. This wasn’t going to be an easy job, nor one that could be done without thought or care. Vance nodded without saying anything, not wanting to act too cocky but also not wanting to show that the shift in mood was shaking his confidence a little.

  “Alright,” John said, “if you two are done with your little lover’s spat, do you want to get going? Cops are more likely to pull over a lone biker at night than in broad daylight, and if you don’t leave soon, you’ll be getting back to the bar after sunset.” Vance nodded, taking the cash and tucking it into the large inner flap of his leather jacket and buttoning the flap so that it was secure and, more importantly, invisible to anyone who didn’t know it was there. He smiled and tuned to leave.