Hostile Saint (Steel Stallions MC Book 1)

by India R. Adams

“Aw! You are so welcome, honey. Those different items are for your immune system, liver—due to those horrid pain pollutants—and overall healing herbs. Are you still getting plenty of water? Vice feeding you?”

  “Oh, yes. I have some good nurses here.”

  Her laugh was so pretty, compared to all the male laughter that I had been hearing. “Now there’s something I never thought I would hear about those three big babies. If one of them gets sick, the whining and constant crying are practically unbearable.”

  If Elle felt three deadly bikers were pansies, I was confident she was a complete badass. No wonder Vice was worried for Lynx. “Well, they must have learned something from you because they have been great.”

  “So good to hear. Hey, I’m having a treadmill delivered there. Can you do me a solid and do some light walking when it arrives? Try to build your strength back up?”

  Humbled, I swallowed and quietly replied, “Yes, ma’am.”

  Was she just like Dagger, Vice, and Lynx? Always moving me forward? It’s possible, because then she said, “Tell that big lug sitting in front of you that, since he’s taking such good care of you, he’s getting the best blow job of his life.”

  My eyes popped wide, “Er,” totally lacking the balls to talk about Elle and blow jobs to her lethal man with the power of an army behind him.

  His brow lifted. “What? What’d she say?”

  “Errrrr.”

  She giggled. “Tell him!”

  I winced. “But I just got off painkillers. I don’t want to have to need them again.”

  She howled laughter.

  “What?” growled a now impatient biker.

  I cleared my throat, but it didn’t help the pathetic croak that had replaced my normal voice as I told him, “She, uh, wants you to know you are, uh, getting the, uh,” cough, “best-blow-job-of-your-life.”

  Grey eyes slid shut…

  Vice snickered. “That girl is so bad. I fucking love her.”

  I heard what sounded like her opening a refrigerator. “What’s he doing?” insisted Elle.

  “Umm,” I watched Lynx proceed to bang his forehead against the bar counter. “Not handling your torture very well.”

  Elle, having no pity for me nor her man, was back to laughing. “God, he loves my lips!”

  Dagger approached, eyeing his President self-inflicting pain. “I miss somethin’?”

  Vice chimed in with one simple word. “Elle.”

  Dagger yelled into the phone I was still stuck holding. “Hey, beautiful!”

  “Daddy Dagger!” she cheerfully called out.

  There are certain things one can live without. And that was one of them. I cringed. “Daddy Dagger? Please tell me that is not a sexual thing and you are, in fact, her dad.”

  The kitchen boomed with laughter.

  Once Elle caught her breath, she told me, “The gossip vine says that old man has got some serious skills in the sack. Tell Lynx to take some notes.”

  My eyes popped wide again. Now I was to tell Lynx he needed to learn a thing or two? “Nope. Not happening.”

  “What did she say now?” yelled the dangerous biker.

  Nope. Nope. No way in Hell. I handed back his cell.

  He happily took it and asked her what she was up to. After hearing her reply, his jaw dropped. “Babe! First with this ‘bikers need to go all organic’ shit, and now you’re tellin’ my boys their Prez needs to up his fuckin’ dick skills?”

  Once again, men’s shoulders collided in the small kitchen as they stumbled back and forth in booming laughter.

  After more playful banter that had me totally forgetting my problems, Lynx told Elle, “Hey, don’t forget to tell Justice to give me a call on the burner, ‘kay?”

  Just like that, laughter ended, and a serious vibe kicked in. I suppose you could say a Prez’s job is never done. And his VP had his back. Dagger gave Lynx a salute and left the kitchen.

  As Lynx ended the call with Elle, her promising she would never again doubt his ‘dick’ skills after he finally got a hold of her, Dagger returned and placed another cellphone in front of him.

  To give privacy to what was certainly meant to be a private conversation, I started to leave the kitchen, but Lynx stopped me. “Nah, need you to stay, Pup.” Not sure what to do, I leaned against the counter, crossing my arms over my insecure chest. Probably due to me looking as uncomfortable as I was feeling, Lynx chuckled. “You’re good, Nine Lives. Just need you to answer some questions for my Road Captain. She’s a wizard on the ol’ internet.”

  “Justice? Is that a road name?”

  Dagger’s smile was full of serious admiration. “Yes, a very deserved and honorable road name.”

  Back at the stove, Vice praised, “If she were the marrying type, I’d make her my Old Lady in a snap. That is how great she is and how much she deserves her road name.”

  There was no romance in his comment. Only top-notch respect.

  At that moment, I wondered if I would ever have someone think so approvingly of me. I hoped to someday have such a name, one that men—such as the ones in that kitchen—would highly approve of.

  The phone on the counter rang. Lynx answered, “Hey,” with an unexpected smile forming, hinting to Justice being more than a Road Captain to him. “How’s my club?” After listening for a few seconds, he chuckled, “Atta girl. Whip that Prospect into shape. Hey, I need you to do somethin’ for your big bro.”

  Bro? Justice is the sister that Lynx got back? Holy shit!

  “Yep, some background hunting on the new pup.” He looked at me while answering something. “Yeah, he’ll be a great wolf someday…” He nodded as if his caller could see him, even though she couldn’t. “Kid, what’s your social security number again?”

  After I gave him all the information he requested, including my address and other specifics, he told her, “Nah. No rush. I just have a sneakin’ suspicion about his dad, wonderin’ if he’s the father of Tate’s brothers.”

  Smirking, as if expecting to be amused, Lynx asked, “What do you mean, have I gone ‘old school’?” He set the phone on the counter and put it on speaker.

  “Yeah,” said a woman’s voice that carried humor, yet authority. “Do the eyes fit?”

  That being a rather odd question had us all going quiet and shrugging at each other.

  She tried, “Eye color? Ya know? Family traits and shit?”

  Dagger smacked his forehead. “Why can’t I be as smart as Captain?”

  “I’m confused,” I admitted.

  Justice giggled. “Dagger, no one is as smart as me. Don’t beat yourself up over it.” Then she said, “Hey, Nine Lives! What’s up?” In the background, on her end, typing on a keyboard could be heard.

  “Hey, nice to meet you, Captain.”

  “You, too, Pup.”

  Dagger leaned his elbows to the higher part of the counter. “Cap, you just can’t help yourself, can you?”

  “Bite me, Daddy Dagger.” She kept typing.

  Vice informed me, “She’s already researching you.”

  Justice ignored us and went on to explain, “Okay, a quick rundown. There are two different theories that I know of. The ‘where your ancestors lived’ or ‘family genes’. Either way, Lynx and I are one-percenters, through-and-through, says the patch on our cuts and our grey eyes.”

  Vice exclaimed, “In the whole world?”

  “That’s right! Our ancestors are from northern Europe,” she admired. “Vikings. Hell yeah. So, that does support that theory, but I haven’t met anyone to break the other theory of family genes. Dad’s eyes were such a clear blue. That, supposedly, has to do with our ancestors from long, long ago, living through long winters and not needing as much melanin because they didn’t have as much sun. That is why he got beautiful children such as Lynx and myself.”

  “It’s true.” Lynx batted his eyelashes. “We’re gorgeous.”

  Dagger and Vice rolled theirs and complained, “Oh, dear lord.” And “Do you hear th
is?”

  After chuckling, Justice asked, “Okay, Tate, what are your parents’ eye colors?”

  “Both blue.”

  “Hence why you have blue eyes.”

  Impressed, I asked, “How’d ya know?”

  “Lynx,” she teased, “you said the kid was sharp.”

  Vice smacked the back of my head. “She just researched ya, dumbass. Don’t think she’s found your driver’s license by now?”

  Way to show your lack of brain cells, Tate.

  Justice continued, “Traits, genes go off of what parents offer their children in eye colors. What color are your brothers’ eyes?”

  “Both blue.”

  “There ya go. Your father could totally be their dad, then.” As if it was challenging to not share information because gathering it was her thing, she mumbled, “Only eight to ten percent of the world have blue eyes, by the way.”

  Lacey… “What about hazel?”

  Justice answered, “Approximately five percent. What color are Lacey’s parents’ eyes?”

  I appreciated Justice already knowing who I was asking about. “Blue and green.”

  “Yeah, see? That makes sense, also—Hold on.” She was suddenly talking to someone else as if they were looking for her. “I’m in the Stalls!” I heard a door open and her say, “Need me?”

  A man’s voice said, “Sorry, Captain. Some snooty bitch at the garage is complaining about the work we did on her car. Rattler is about to blow. Intervention time. Stat.”

  “My work is never done, y’all. I gotta roll. Bro, still no hurry?”

  Lynx told his sister, “Nah, we have time. Tate has to make a girl fall in love with him.”

  Vice told Justice, “That’s gonna take more than a minute.”

  Chuckling, I stuck up for myself. “I’m quite lovable. You just wait and see.”

  Justice laughed over the phone. “I see you guys are already teaching Pup some bad ego habits.”

  Once Lynx got off the phone, he told me, “She’ll get me some answers.” Lost in thought, he spun the burner cell around with his finger. “Kid, what do you think you would do if ever faced with your brothers again?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged. “After all that has gone down, how would you feel seeing them again? Blood or not, what do you think you would do?”

  I hadn’t even considered seeing them again. I figured, since they left me for dead, that was the way it should be left. “Huh. I don’t know.” I eyed him. “What would you do?”

  Grey eyes glowed with revenge. “I’d kill ’em.” He studied me. “Would you have a problem with that?”

  Standing there, I realized there was a very high probability that whoever had taken his sister was now dead. I grimaced. “God, I swear I wish I could say yes, but…” Suddenly, images of the rape and how familiar with Lacey’s body all the brothers were had my jaw locking. Then I remembered the blade sinking into her sweet, beautiful skin. “No. I don’t have a problem with that. At all.” My skin flared with a sharp and ravenous rage, feeding me the strength to finally say, “I think they murdered my father.”

  Ever so slowly, Lynx inhaled as if finally hearing what he had been waiting for. “How?”

  “The pool. Drowned.”

  As if totally believing me and understanding there was more to be said, he questioned, “Not an accident?”

  “He was a certified swimming coach. Had me swimming by three.” I could feel how deadpanned my expression was. I could feel the hatred I had buried while trying to force myself to believe the lie I had been told. “Authorities claim he must have ‘cramped’ since he had no head trauma to speak of.”

  Lynx lifted a blond brow as he sarcastically said, “That’s quite a cramp for a certified teacher not being able to reach the side of a pool.”

  No longer a fool, I gave one curt yet menacing nod. “I only ask that, if they are to die, I get to do it. All four of them.”

  There was no more joking or laughter echoing.

  All that was now present was reverence for my hostile words.

  Vice walking into the kitchen from the garage, with aviator glasses on his head, had my full attention. I was dying to hear anything and everything he had to say. But before he even had a chance to open his mouth with any news, I asked, “How is she?” In the living room, I was on my feet, so nervous I couldn’t hold still.

  Dagger and Lynx flanked me, both sturdy as always.

  Vice didn’t judge me either. He quickly and confidently answered, “I don’t know her like you do, of course, but from what I can tell, she is doing real good, kid. Real good. They even had her sitting outside in some real nice garden courtyard.”

  “Flowers?”

  “Oh yeah, a shit load. All different colors.”

  For some reason, that was confirmation she was in good hands. “She loves flowers—” My legs gave out. No longer on medication that numbed everything and not distracted by talk of my shitty brothers, I finally could feel the impact of how worried I had truly been for her. It was violent. Almost too much for my body to take.

  “Lay him flat,” said Dagger quickly.

  Two sets of strong arms quickly grabbed a hold of me and helped me to the floor. Dazed, I laid there, blinking. “S-Sorry. I just—”

  Dagger was studying me—my eyes, my coloring—but said, “Stop apologizing. You’ve been so consumed with worry for Lacey you haven’t taken one second to consider all you have been through, physically nor mentally. Here’s a quick recap. Your own flesh and blood tried to make you exit this world while, from what I can tell, absolutely terrorizing your woman. I got a feelin’ that your story is way up top on the list of the shit I’ve seen. Feel me? And I’ve seen some shit.” For some reason, he laid two fingers on the inside of my wrist. “Your young body is doing a stand-up job healing, but it ain’t done. Cut yourself some fucking slack.”

  Two men standing over me, all worried, had my eyes leaking. I felt like I had won a lottery. It just wasn’t money I was being gifted. It was something so much better.

  When Vice suddenly appeared, smiling ear-to-ear, saying, “You done being a drama queen and ready to hear more about your girl?” I burst into some sort of laughing-crying fit.

  Still with fingers on my wrist, Dagger smiled. “Pulse is pickin’ back up.”

  From the floor, I told Vice, “Tell me more.”

  Vice teased, “First off, you’re right. She’s hot.”

  Lynx smacked the back of his head. “Dude! Total jailbait.”

  That had me laughing even more, and so proud of my girl. “Isn’t she an angel?”

  Vice had his hands braced to his knees to stay bent over. “The way the sun was hitting her, I was shocked wings didn’t appear.”

  Now Dagger eyed him. “Wings?” His stare squinted. “Did you get into Pup’s leftover pain meds?”

  I laughed even more, my chest loosening and filling with air.

  “Nah! I’m serious, Dag!” By the way Vice was talking, I knew he’d seen my girl. “Somethin’ about her, like a fairy sitting in the flowers—Where ya going?”

  Lynx and Dagger were headed for the kitchen. Lynx said, “To get a beer.”

  Dagger added, “And find your balls.”

  Standing up straight, Vice waved a hand while dismissing them, then told me, “Yep. She looked clean, fresh bandages, and calm.” He grinned. “It’s from far away, but I managed to get a pic—” I gasped, dying for a glance of the photo, but Vice suddenly appeared bored, checking out his fingernails. “Not that I know anyone who wants to see it.”

  I reached out with a hand, so desperate, you would have thought I was going to finally get to touch the real Lacey.

  A cellphone was placed in my palm.

  There she was, in a flowered courtyard, just like Vice had described. The morning sun beamed down on her. The same sun I touched again that very morning, just like I had every morning while in that rental. My throat tightened. The picture was, indeed, from far a
way, and there was tall fencing all around her, but there was no mistaking… “My Pretty Girl,” I moaned, so happy she looked healthy, all considered, yet so sad because I wanted to feel her. Smell her. Kiss her.

  As I stared, Dagger and Lynx returned, handing Vice a beer. Vice asked me, “Can ya tilt that phone slightly, kid?” When I did, he pointed to the screen, his tone shifting to some sort of Pro Mode. “That fencing is electric.”

  “No shit?” asked Dagger.

  “Yeah, I guess they ain’t taking no chances of escapees.”

  Behind Lacey, who was sitting in a Victorian iron chair, was a huge old grey castle-like building. According to the barred windows, it looked to be three-stories high.

  “Security?” Lynx asked Vice.

  “Only a few outside cameras near entrances. We can easily knock them out. No guards. Just a couple of big ol’ orderlies.” He pointed again. “The pic is from me standing in some woods. The same ones she appeared from when they found her.” He further explained, “No neighbors at all. Easy to get in and out with no witnesses, especially at night. They don’t even have a high number of patients. Quite exclusive.”

  “Sounds too easy,” grumbled Dagger as if he was sensing a catch.

  Vice nodded while rubbing his fingers together to represent money. “The place is soon going to be locked up tight. Once their new system is in, you’ll need a passcode to get in. We break in, alarms will ring-n-sing. Her room is on the third floor. Not much time to not care about triggering loud alarms. Oh, and no elevator. If she’s not coming willingly, we will have to carry her down the open and exposed stairs. Her cries will be heard throughout that whole damn old ass building, alerting the orderlies.” His finger came into my view. “Sorry, kid. Just give me a sec.” He swiped the picture to another one to show us a grand sweeping staircase made of polished wood. “I looked up pics on their website. This staircase is our only way of reaching her unless we scale the outside of the building.” He swiped his finger to put Lace in front of me again.

  Lynx asked, “She afraid of heights, kid?”

  “I-I don’t know. My bedroom was on ground level. Hers was on the second floor, but she never had to use it. Only me.”

  After a moment of pondering, Dagger asked, “Vice, will you be able to get us a code to get in, if needed?”