by KL Donn
4
Saint
I’m not sure what makes me turn, but when I do, I catch Angel’s eyes roll into her skull, her face pale as she rocks. A piercing scream erupts from Callie, but she manages to catch Angel before she faceplants on the floor
“I don’t know what happened!” Callie’s frantic.
I’m across the room within three strides, snatching Harla from her arms with a growl.
“I’m warning you, brother. You look at Callie like that one more time, and I’m putting you fucking down.” A lesser man would flinch at that deep, demanding tone. It’s Prez. I don’t care. Callie was meant to be looking after her. We haven’t even left the fucking club and Angel has passed out.
“Saint?” My eyes hit hers, and I see the pink tint is coming back to her cheeks.
My hand trembles as I move a piece of hair off her face. I don’t even glance up to see who’s watching. “You scared us.” My tone has a bite to it.
“I didn’t think anything scared you,” she says softly.
She’s fucking right. Ask anyone here and they’d confirm that I don’t get scared. I’ve got nothing to lose. I’m not going to hell because I am fucking hell. I’m the motherfucking devil incarnate. Yet, this five-foot-four angel somehow soothes the rage inside of me. She makes that lump in the middle of my chest beat like some fucker has just jump started it.
I lean my head close to hers, burying my face in her neck, inhaling her. The faint smell of coconut, along with berries, smells good.
“Me asustaste, mi ángel,” I whisper so only she can hear. Her fingers grip my arm, and she squeezes in response as a small gasp escapes her.
“You stopped growling now?” West’s voice pulls me back to reality. “So Doc can get to her.”
I nod, her fingers gently tickling my beard. I fucking can’t let her go. I just physically can’t bring myself to do it.
“Estoy bien, gracias,” she reassures me with a small smile, telling me she’s okay.
I stare at her in shock. She speaks Spanish. Fuck, she’s just let me know that she understood what I told her, that she scares me. My lips twitch, something they only seem to do whenever she’s around me. I don’t miss the way every pair of eyes in the room are on me. The only reason I don’t move is the look in Angel’s. The way her breath hitches, along with her eyes darkening from icy blue to teal.
Everything inside of me screams to claim her, to make her mine. I glance over her once more before standing, holding onto her the entire time, making sure that I’m supporting her weight, just in case she gets unsteady again. My fingers dig into her hips on reflex before I look toward Doc, a clear threat in my eyes.
He nods, taking a steady step toward us, hands up in surrender. “You need to move your arm, Saint.” The bastard smirks. The thought of him touching her makes my grip tighten.
“Saint.” There’s a warning in West’s tone. I need to back the fuck away.
I tighten my hold slightly before letting go.
Prez glares at me, just as he would our enemies. “Church.” He continues to stare me down. “That includes you, boy.”
My whole body tenses, every muscle locking. A small hand lands on my back. I turn my head to meet her gaze. “Go, I’m fine.”
I grab her chin between my fingers, tilting her face upwards. “You passed out,” I grit out. “You ain’t fine, Angel. No fucker just passes out because they’re o-fucking-kay.”
A small line appears between her brows as her lips pull into a tight line. “I must have overdone it. I mean, it's a lot to take in! First, men break into my house and shoot Gigi. I left her there.” Her voice cracks but she doesn’t cry. Instead, she shakes her head and continues, “Then I find out that my father is the head of this place. He’s lied to me not once but twice, because I also found out I have a brother.” She sighs. “I was overwhelmed. Give a girl a break, okay?”
Callie has a proud smirk on her face. I, on the other hand, snort. I fucking heard her screams last night.
Her eyes flash with rage. “Don’t! Don’t treat me as if I’m made of glass! I am not going to fall to pieces.”
Is she serious? Most women I know would have cried a fucking river, totally fucking lost it. “You’re one of the strongest bitches I know.”
Her eyes narrow. “I’m not a bitch.” Her eyebrows rise, but I see the humor laced in her eyes. My lips twitch again, this time showing my teeth.
Callie moves so that she’s next to Harla, wrapping her arm around her. “I promise she won't move, okay. I will keep her ass on this seat.” Her voice is full of conviction.
Doc checks over her wounds for infection and shakes his head. “Nothing different from last night. Like the lass said, a lot has happened in the last thirty hours.” He grins at Angel, like a proud dad, his Irish accent coming out. “Most women would be bitching but this one’s made of strong stuff.”
I nod because I already know she’s tough. Every step I take away from her feels as though someone is pulling my heart out of my chest. I stop in front of Callie.
“You’ll take good care of her,” I instruct, every word laced with danger. It’s a threat.
Callie’s gaze flicks toward West, before she nods, the tension dropping from her shoulders. “I know we haven’t spoken a lot, but you know you can trust me. Don’t you?”
I watch her eyes for anything but the truth. When I don’t see anything deceitful, I nod.
Callie’s smile widens. “Get your ass in church before Prez puts a bullet in you.”
At her words, a mane of dark hair crashes into me.
“Angel?” I don’t know what the fuck is happening but Angel is wrapped around me as if she’s trying to bury herself inside of me. I hear a whimper escape her, the sound turning my body to ice as I feel wetness on my neck. I try to pull her head away but she shakes it, mumbling something I can’t make any sense of.
“I got you,” I promise. I’ve never dealt with crying females—that's what they have friends for—but as her tiny whimpers make her body shudder, it feels like a thousand knives are going through me. As if my body knows what to do, my arms wrap around her and I run a hand down her hair, cupping the back of her head. “What have I said? No tears.”
I hear her trying to suck in a breath as if she is trying to stop, followed by a few hiccups. I walk to the counter and sit her down. She lifts her watery eyes to mine, her lip trembling. Seeing her like this, it’s as though some fucker has shot me. Pain pierces my chest. I hold her face, noticing how small it is in my paw. I move my thumb, catching a single tear that's burning down her cheek. “What's got these beautiful eyes crying?”
As if remembering, she jumps down, and I don’t miss her wince of pain. “Fuck, Angel! What are you trying to fucking do?” What the fuck is with her? She’s going to put me into an early grave.
Her eyes narrow instantly as she crosses her arms over her chest, her lips thin in a tight line. “Don’t use that tone with me! I don’t like it.”
I slam my mouth shut. Did I just make her cry? I had spoken more to her than anyone before. The words spill out when I’m around her. I learned long ago not to spill that stupid, still had the lash scars across my back. Guess I’m still stupid.
Angel tries to push me, but I don’t budge, instead frowning at her. Does she want me to leave? The look in her eyes isn’t anger anymore, it’s frustration. “What are you trying to do, Angel?”
She huffs, blowing air through her nose in defeat. “Move back, please, a few steps.” I stare at her, but soon enough my dumb ass follows her orders. She smiles brightly up at me, before turning and plastering her back to my front, looking at Prez straight on. “I won't let you shoot Saint! You will have to shoot me first,” she says, steel and grit to her tone.
It takes me a few seconds for her words to register. Picking her up, I place her ass back on the counter. “Let me get this fucking straight!” I growl, glaring at her, my chest heaving as I run my hand over my shaven head. “You cried because Ca
llie said that shit?” I shake my head, looking around to see Callie smiling before turning back to Angel.
“You asked me to move so you could stand in front of me? Protect me, thinking that Prez is going to put a bullet in me? I ain't the brightest, but I’m getting this right so far?”
Angel studies me before her little fucking chin sticks out and she nods.
I open my mouth then shut it again, because what the fuck does someone say to that?
I walk out of the room without a backward glance. I can’t look at her right now, because I’m either going spank the shit out of her or kiss her. Neither are an option that doesn’t end up with a bullet in me. I walk my fucking ass away, because if Prez shoots me, then Angel will lose her shit and be sad. I walk into church, slamming the door before I take my seat, Prez’s to my right. He comes in moments later, his eyes pinned on me, but I don’t cower.
“Fucking should have had all fucking boys. This is fucking karma.” He shakes his head as he takes a seat before slamming the gavel down. “Harla’s recognized the men as Renegade Phoenix. There is no doubt they’ve killed Ma and would have killed her if she hadn’t escaped.” Renegade Phoenix are a rival MC. “They’ve killed our men as we have theirs, but they have crossed a new line when they hurt Harla.”
Every man nods. My lips are pulled into a sneer, and a low growl escapes from deep in my throat. Prez looks at me before shaking his head. He’s keeping that anger for when it’s needed.
I already know that I’m going to make them scream the same way Angel had last night, make them beg for death. Oh, I will take them to the very edge of it and bring them back, just so I can start all over again.
Prez carries on the meeting about us making the two-hour drive to Gigi’s house to recover the body. She had raised Angel and deserves a good send off.
Once plans are made, we all rise as a unit. The Renegade Phoenix MC have messed with ours, and no one messes with us.
“Boy.” I stop at Reaper’s voice, damn well knowing he’s talking to me, but everyone has stopped, their gazes bouncing between us. “Out,” Prez growls. Each one of them tenses, but they nod and leave.
The door closes and Prez stands. “Get those fucking ideas out of your head, boy.” He glares at me. He shakes his head, and I see the rage bubbling behind those green eyes of his. “I see the way you look at her, the way she fucking looks at you,” he spits out as if it leaves a bad taste in his mouth.
I open my mouth but slam it shut just as quick.
“I know you, boy, know everything you’ve done, most of it for this fucking club. You’re more than a brother.” The respect in his voice hits me deep in the chest.
“But you ain't right for my baby girl.” Pain slices through me. “That beast ain’t getting anywhere near her. I won’t hesitate to put you fucking down.”
I turn my head away, not showing the hurt that's ripping through me, as if he’s using the dagger himself. He’s right, I don’t deserve someone like Angel. She’s too pure. I’d taint her with my hellish touches, drown her with the darkness that surrounds me. The fire that owns me would consume her until she was nothing but ashes.
“You disobey me, and I'll take your colors, this club, and your brothers. They’ll all be gone.” There’s the final blow.
My jaw clenches as I suck in a sharp breath through my teeth, looking at the man that had given me a family, a home, and somewhere to belong. The man I respect above all else. My Prez. I nod, as once again that pain blooms in my chest.
5
Harla
Standing in the bedroom, looking at Callie, droplets of water fall to the floor. She's laid out some clothes for me on the bed beside her. Vibrations run through me as the hum of motorcycles sound. They must be leaving.
"They'll make sure your gigi is looked after," Callie tells me, a sad smile on her face. She's really sweet and it's weird. I don't know her but she's going out of her way to help me.
"Yeah, I can't believe that I left her there." Shaking my head, I pull the towel tighter around me. "I should never have done it."
She gets up off the bed and pulls me into her arms. "Harla, you did what she told you to do. If you hadn't, you wouldn't be here to tell the stories. Those men that killed her, they're going to get what's coming to them."
I swallow past the lump in my throat. "What are they going to do?" I question. I still have no idea what this place is, or what the men do here.
"They're going to make sure that you're safe and those fuckers will never be able to hurt you again." She says it so casually, as though it’s normal. Nothing about this is.
"What is this place?"
She sighs, walking back to the bed. She takes a seat. "Get dressed and we'll talk."
I do as she says and quickly pull on the clothes she left out for me: a pair of black jeans and a black tank top. Both are brand new with the tags still left on them, as are the panties she’s left out for me.
"Thanks. I'll buy you new ones," I tell her as I pull the tank on. I don’t have big boobs, so I don’t need to wear a bra.
She waves me off. "You're all good, girl. They're new and my ass is too big to fit into those jeans. Besides, they look good on you."
"Thank you. So, this place?"
She shakes her head. "I knew you wouldn't leave it." She wrings her hands together, looking nervous. "This is a compound. Your dad, he's the president of the Reaper’s Fury."
I frown. I've never heard of that. "What is that?"
She smiles. "Jesus, you really are innocent."
I don't acknowledge that statement. What's the point?
"Reaper’s Fury is a motorcycle club. Your dad is in charge. He's the Prez. Your brother is the vice president."
It's weird hearing that, your brother. I still can't wrap my head around it. I'm angry. I've lived my entire life with Gigi, believing that she and my dad were the only family I had, when my brother lived two hours away.
"But what does a motorcycle gang do?"
She shakes her head, her eyes practically bugging out of their sockets. "It's not a gang, never call it that. It's a club."
My nose scrunches up. Is there a difference? I don't voice that thought aloud. "So, how did you come to be a part of this?"
She shrugs. "My dad was a member, and I have grown up around here."
"He was?" I ask softly, coming to sit beside her.
She smiles. "Yeah, he was a patched member, one of the brothers. He died five years ago. I love being around here. It reminds me of him. Mom hates that I'm here. She's not set foot in the compound since he died."
"You're family." It's a statement.
She nods. "Your dad's my godfather. He and my dad were best friends."
"I'm sorry for your loss."
"Thanks, honey. May I ask where your mom is? You lived with your gigi. Is that your grandmother?"
"Yeah, she’s Dad’s mom. I always called her Gigi. My mom died while giving birth.”
She intakes a sharp breath. “To you?”
I nod. "Yeah."
She reaches for my hand and squeezes it. "Sorry for your loss."
"It was a long time ago now."
She squeezes it once again. "Still don't stop it hurting."
"No, it doesn't. What is there to do around here?" I question, changing the subject.
She laughs. "Not much during the day. Night-time, though, it’s a different story."
I raise my brows. "Oh? Do tell."
She blushes. "Let's just say things get a little rowdy."
Oh. I know what that means.
"How about I show you around in a while? You need to eat first."
I narrow my eyes. "How old are you?"
She stands. "Twenty-one.” She glances over me. “How are you feeling?"
"I'm okay, tired." I shrug. There's no way I'm going back to sleep; the remnants of my dream are still lingering.
"How about some breakfast?"
I nod. "That sounds good. Do you know what happened to my car?
" I know I smashed it pretty bad, but I need to see how much damage is done, to see if it's salvageable.
"I'm unsure. Once West's back, you'll be able to ask. West loves fixing bikes. I'm sure he'll be able to fix it for you."
I smile. "That's cool. I love fixing cars. I fixed it myself."
Her eyes widen. "No way. You did?"
"Yeah, it was my pop’s car. Dad tried fixing it years ago, but it was left in Gigi's garage. It took a while, but I finally got it up and running."
"That's awesome. It must run in the family.”
I follow her out of the room and downstairs, unsure what to say to that. I don’t know West. I’m hurt that she knows him better than I do. “What’s he like?”
She glances back at me with a frown. "Your dad?" She smiles. "He's been a second father to me, looked after me since Dad died."
That pain in my chest deepens. "No, I meant West."
"Oh, West is... West. He's gruff, but on the inside, he has a heart of gold."
"So, are you and him…?" I leave the question floating in the air.
Sadness seeps into her eyes and she turns back and carries on walking. "Me and West aren't anything. I'm a girl he likes to fuck when the time calls for it."
Oh...
"Harla, things in the club are different than they are in the real world. The men here, they're different. There's ol' ladies and then there's club girls. There's no in between."
"What's a club girl?" As soon as I ask the question, I regret it. I think I already know the answer.
"They are girls that love partying with Reaper's Fury. Cumbuckets, Snatches and Bobs are just some of the names they’re called. None of the men are exclusive with any club girl and the club girls love to sleep with a brother, thinking they’ll get a patch slapped on their ass." Her voice is tight as she snorts. “I’m not like them because my daddy was a member. I haven't slept with all the brothers like they do, just West. Only West.” I get the distinct impression that she hates that she's not exclusive with West. From what I saw this morning between the two of them, I thought they were a couple. “So, these women are just here to sleep with men?” I ask as we walk into the kitchen.