by Hazel Parker
I gulped.
“However, one of the tasks given to me by Jose for our business deal was for me to go to Green Hills, meet the Saints, and ask them to help spread their whiskey. It is true that the Saints are not like most people and they may not be everyone’s cup of tea. However, I can assure you that in my experience with them, they were nothing but kind, honest, and caring. I came to realize this when I was held hostage by Jose, who believed that I was working with one of the Saints.”
Again, this wasn’t about the strict truth of the courts. This was about winning the public opinion back over.
“Jose revealed his true self and everything that I have told you here today. Jose told me everything that he planned to do to the Saints and his plans to terrorize all of Los Angeles. It was a Saint who rescued me. And it has been the Devil’s Mercenaries who have committed crimes nonstop in the pursuit of turning Los Angeles into a crime-ridden dystopia.”
I sighed. It was time to close with some memorable, strong sound bites that the media would play over and over again.
“I will leave it to the cops to figure out what happened. All I know is a Devil’s Mercenary was about to kill me, and a Saint saved my life. If the Saints are criminals, then I don’t believe in justice.”
With that, I went back inside. The police followed, but I had them push the cameramen away. I had done what Burke needed me to do.
Now, I just needed him to make me feel better.
* * *
The interviews with police took up the rest of my day, all the way up to rush hour traffic. By the time I left, I was utterly exhausted and beat down. I just wanted to lie in his arms, not worry about anything else, and get a dozen hours of sleep.
The cops had advised me that they had actually had cases against Jose pending for embezzlement and fraud, but they didn’t know he was that intimately connected to the club. Although I didn’t have audio in my office, I did have a camera on a bookshelf I had completely forgotten I installed until the police asked me what it was. I let them have it on the condition that they not show me what was on the card—I didn’t need the reminder on film that I had almost gotten raped.
It was enough to leave me satisfied. Already, as I looked on my phone, I saw headlines about the great antiheroes that the Saints were—how the badass biker turned into a hero, how the gruff villain had acted long enough to become the hero, and so many other stupid headlines I didn’t care for.
But the content was what mattered. The press was eating up the story of how thirty-five-year-old Megan Walker, marketing wunderkind, had almost died at the hands of one gang, only to be saved by “another” gang. Good enough, I thought. It didn’t need to be perfect—it just needed to put things in the right light.
Burke also promised me by text that now that Jose was out of the way, the club was going to take a lot more concentrated efforts to keep their image clean and pristine. The club had already begun talks about a charity event they could either host or partake in. I got the idea to get them on a local TV segment special, but that wasn’t something I was going to be in any mood to work on.
Right now, I just wanted to see Burke.
Lost in all of the madness of the day was that outside of the club walls, no one knew that he and I were a thing. A thing that, frankly, wasn’t that well defined. I didn’t know what we were—boyfriend and girlfriend? A “serious” casual friends? A fling that we thought had potential but logistically wouldn’t work out?
Who knew? And, to some extent, I didn’t care about titles. They’d take care of themselves.
When I got on the highway, I found myself wishing that I was on the bike so that I could be with Burke. It wasn’t even about the thrill, although there was certainly that. Instead, it was about just being with him, feeling his body, just having him close.
It was a long hour to Burke’s clubhouse, but I was too tired to have any road rage or frustration. It wasn’t the kind of tired where I wanted to sleep; just the kind of tired where I didn’t want to do anything else but be with him.
Getting off the highway and onto the road to the Saints’ clubhouse was like getting on the road to heaven. It took only a few more minutes, and it made me wearily smile that Burke had come outside to meet me.
“Come in,” he said. “It’s empty.”
Thank god, I thought with a grin.
I just more or less collapsed into his side as I walked into the clubhouse. I made headway for the couch and plopped down. Burke offered me a drink, but I declined. He didn’t seem that serious about getting one, anyway; it just felt more like a polite offering than anything else.
“What a day,” I said, stretching my legs out over him. “What. A. Day.”
Burke nodded but, as was his slightly annoying habit, didn’t say anything.
“Burke,” I said, preparing to ask him to speak more… but then I recognized that was just me being ornery. “Thank you for everything you did today. Sometimes, people say they had their lives saved, but you literally saved me. That is no small exaggeration. And for that, I thank you.”
“Welcome,” Burke said with a pleasing smile.
We weren’t going to get to what I wanted to talk about unless I broached it. Burke was either too charged up from the day or just too happy to have me here to discuss it. It may not have even been something he felt needed to be discussed, but I knew better.
“What are we, Burke?” I said.
Burke turned his head, taking a deep breath. That’s not a good sign.
“I mean… we’ve never had that conversation,” he said.
“Well,” I said, adjusting myself. “Let’s have it.”
Burke nodded, cleared his throat, and turned to me.
“Be my girl.”
“What?”
It wasn’t that I was surprised by the request itself. I think it was more just… it was so bold and so straightforward that I hadn’t expected it at all. It was so… so blunt, so…
So sweet.
“Be my girlfriend. That what you want?”
“Well, yes,” I said, smiling, trying to contain my excitement from getting too out of control. “I just… there’s so much we have to figure out. What about our work schedules? Our lives? What about—”
“We’ll figure it out,” Burke said, almost too easily.
“You say it like we can just snap our fingers and all will be well.”
Burke shrugged.
“No, no. It will take time. But we just survived that. You survived that. I survived war. What is figuring out time to see each other when we have survived what we have?”
That was… well, put like that, I guess that was a good point. I just had never thought of it like that—which may have reflected upon my thinking. So focused in on the moment and the next step that I didn’t ever take a step back to think about what my actions might have said.
“I guess… I guess you’re right,” I said. “I’m just scared, Burke.”
I’d blurted it out before I could take it back, and I hadn’t decided yet if I was happy about it.
“What do you mean?”
“Scared that this will be a repeat of Blake,” I admitted. “Scared that we are going to be great and wonderful, and then I will get my heart broken.”
Burke appeared to sit on my words for a few moments, gazing ahead, drawing a deep breath.
“We could get hurt, yes,” he said. “Love is a risk. But want a confession, too?”
I nodded.
“I was scared when I headed out that I would repeat the mistake I made of not protecting Jess better. I worried you would die and I would go crazy. But still, I marched on. I did not let that previous mistake stop me. You should not let what happened with Blake stop you. I am not Blake. I am, hopefully, a more mature and honest man than Blake.”
Oh, without question, I thought with a smile as I took his hand and squeezed it.
“Risk is in everything we do. I know this from war. There is no greater risk than war, and I saw it all
. Lost my friends. Lost my loved one. Lost my soul. But I am alive, and I got it back. If, somehow, this does not work out, life will go on.”
But… we will work.
It’s precisely because of the risk that we know it will work out. We’re aware of it; we’re not naive little kids who think we’ll be forever and ever.
Because we know what it’s like to lose, we’re going to fight like hell to win.
“Oh, Burke…” I said. “Can I give you my answer?”
Burke nodded.
“You have to say yes or no,” I said with a smirk. “We’re going to get you to talk more if it kills me.”
Burke rolled his eyes but did so with a grin.
“Yes. I would like to hear your answer.”
“OK,” I said. “I’m going to show you.”
“OK.”
With that, I leaned in to kiss him.
But unlike last time, when our kiss had started soft and grew until we couldn’t contain it and turned into uncontrolled, wild sex a day later, this time, I went from intense and hungry to soft and gentle. Burke was…
He was mine.
He was my boyfriend.
My first one in over ten years.
He was worth the wait.
“Come on,” he said, standing up, taking my hand, and guiding me back to the room.
When I took his hand, I got chills down my spine. I hadn’t felt this way about anyone, ever; Blake was an immature love. I thought I knew what it was, but this…
What more could you say about a man who saved your life? What more could you say about someone who exposed his soul to you and you only?
Nothing, really.
But that was fine. The time for words was over. It was time to show our love.
We gently tumbled into the bed. I hovered on top of him, kissing his lips and gently running my hands over his face. I opened my eyes and gazed through to his soul—it was beautiful precisely because it was scarred. But just as a muscle tear made it stronger, so, too, did the scars of his soul make his soul stronger.
I closed my eyes and kissed him more. We didn’t move past the kissing stage for the longest time. It was almost more intimate than sex, in a way—our bodies could not have been any closer if we tried.
Eventually, our mutual sex drives won out, but that moment where I was kissing him, holding him, and feeling him was one I would never forget. It would forever mark the most gentle, intimate moment we ever had.
And when the moment passed, I promised to cherish it forever.
But now, it was time to make love.
I sat up on his hips, taking off my shirt. This time, there was no ripping to be done. I voluntarily did it.
I then removed my bra as I wiggled my hips on him, feeling him grow stiffer and harder underneath me.
“Oh, Burke,” I gasped.
I stood up, removed my pants and my underwear, and lowered myself back down. In the time since, he had shoved his pants down, leaving his cock out for me.
I gently stroked it a few times, gazing straight back into those soulful eyes as I did so. I was about to put him inside me, bringing us literally together as one. It was fucking perfect.
I then slid him inside me, and I closed my eyes as his girth buried into me. It took a few slides, a few sways, and a few rocking motions to get things going, but once he was fully in me, we moved in a nice, gentle rhythm. The goal was not orgasm, though that was sure to be achieved. Instead, I just wanted to feel him, feel connected to him, and feel the love.
As we gently swayed together, our hips moving as one, I got just that. As shitty as this morning was, as sure as I was that I was going to die, this was the exact opposite. Here, I felt alive. I felt like I was experiencing the best that life had to offer. I was getting what I hoped everyone got to experience—a feeling of absolutely perfect chemistry.
At some point, we switched to a different position, but it was still much of the same—our motions were slow, gentle, wanting to experience every feeling that we could have.
A nice side effect of this was that when I finally did come, when he was on top of me, it was like the Earth shattered beneath me and put me into the world’s warmest bath. The gradual tension meant that every fiber of my being could feel the orgasm coursing through it; unlike my previous ones, where it may have felt over a bit too soon or not been as powerful, this one just about knocked me out, metaphorically if not literally.
Burke, for his part, came seconds after I came. Though he wasn’t wearing a condom, I wasn’t that worried. My period was due any day, and ovulation had long past. Even if I was, even if we got pregnant, Burke would make for a great dad. Obviously, after my period ended, I’d get on the pill—I wasn’t quite that ready to be a mom—but if things went as they were going, it wouldn’t take us long to get to that spot.
After all, thirty-five didn’t leave a ton more time to have kids. And I’d found my man; we just needed time to make one hundred percent sure instead of ninety-nine percent sure things would be good.
When Burke rolled off of me, having finished, I crawled back on top of him, listening to his heartbeat. Unlike before, though, it was beating fast.
“Excited?” I asked.
He smiled and looked at me with the most amazing eyes ever.
“I think I found the one,” he said.
I about cried when I heard that.
“I agree,” I said with a shaky voice.
I leaned forward and kissed him. I knew now I was never letting go.
He was mine.
Epilogue
“What do you want the city of Los Angeles to know about you?”
Trace, Splitter, Sword, Sensei, and I stood before the journalist and the TV cameras for a local news segment highlighting us three months after Megan’s rescue. I didn’t know how Megan had done it, but she had managed to procure an actual fluff piece for us.
The press coverage, sure enough, had drastically turned after Megan’s emotional interview immediately after I had rescued her. In fact, it had gone viral and made CNN and other major news sites. It was almost too good—the Savage Saints got inundated with requests for interviews and discussions unlike anything we had ever seen before. I actually had to bring a prospect on to help me with all of the media requests and emails.
It sure beat the hell out of having everyone hate us, though. It made life way easier, not to mention the DMs, not surprisingly, were down to their last few men.
We had said that before, but cutting off their funds and operations had put them in a seriously bad spot. Sales of Sea Sailor Whiskey plummeted in the immediate aftermath so badly that the company went bankrupt within a month. Many of the DMs that we knew were notorious for causing trouble were never seen again—they’d either had the good sense to run like hell for a different city, or they had just quit the club and moved on with their lives.
So things were looking up for us, even if we were backlogged with requests. We actually had to start turning down some for fear of making the police and other groups in the area jealous; but again, it was a good problem to have.
“That we care about this community, and that we want to make it a better place than we left it,” Trace said.
“That we’re real people,” Splitter said.
Thank God Megan trained him to cut himself off so quickly.
“That we’re human,” Sword said.
“That we’re not thugs, we’re not gangsters: we’re a club,” Sensei said. “We’re a group of men who have a certain set of values, and we want to uphold those values in Green Hills.”
The journalist nodded and then looked my way. If I was quiet in club meetings, I was even quieter in this interview. I don’t think I’d said but two sentences the entire time, but now was my chance to make a lasting impact.
Out of the corner of my eye, behind all the cameras and lighting, I saw Megan, giving me a huge smile and a thumbs up.
“That, like anyone else, we have people we care about, we love, and we fight
for,” I said.
The rest of the club nodded. Still, I could sense how stunned they were. Like I said, I’m smarter than I appear.
“You heard it straight from them, ladies and gentlemen. Saints, thank you for your time.”
“That’s a wrap!”
With that, the journalist approached Trace and thanked him, shaking his hand. The two shared an amicable conversation, a moment I was happy to let them have. I chose to press back against the wall, remaining in the shadows. Megan and I were still pretty private about what we were, and though we weren’t opposed to PDA, my naturally quiet demeanor and her still-present youthful vibes ensured that didn’t happen very often.
Slowly, the crew started to leave, resulting in just the five of us and Megan having a drink around the table.
“Man,” Trace said. “We’re going to have to get a bigger table at this rate. All of us are falling in love.”
Splitter laughed. I smiled. Sword, who was married, also chuckled.
There was only one who didn’t.
Sensei.
“Most of us,” he corrected with a smile, although it looked like a sad smile, a bit weary.
I knew something of Sensei. He’d been married before, but his wife had died in a terrible accident. Sensei was usually very wise and very willing to speak his mind, but that was one subject we always avoided.
Here, though, it almost seemed like he opened the door.
“You never know, Sensei,” Splitter said.
“No, I’m pretty sure I know,” he said.
“Someday,” I said. “If I can…”
Everyone, even Megan, laughed at that. Sensei’s laugh wasn’t as long, but I think he was just grateful for the attention to go somewhere else.
“Maybe,” Sensei said. “But after everything I’ve been through, I think love has left me behind. Right now, I just have to raise my little girl. Maybe when she grows up, but by then, I’ll be an old fart.”