Hostile Saint (Steel Stallions MC Book 1)
Page 22
I followed suit.
He stared outside to the porch and watched over two of the closest men he would ever have in his life. “I let you hear all that because it’s possible no brother would understand a dark past more than you. And, because I believe it is important you know how much that man out there needs to face some demons or he’s never going to let you grow into a man.”
“Have I done something to cause this?”
He smirked, but it lacked humor. “Besides being a gift from up above?”
My head tilted.
Dagger exhaled. “Lynx and Elle lost a child recently.” When my eyes widened, Dagger solemnly nodded. “Yeah, some real tough shit. And, it doesn’t seem more children will be possible.” He wiped a palm down his tired face. “Of course, Elle blames herself, hence this health food kick. Prez thinks it’s all his fault. As you heard, he thinks God is punishing him for what happened to his brother’s kid.” His jaw ticked. “Art was taken along with Justice.”
My mind was blown. “The guy I just met in the driveway?”
“Yeah, the one who doesn’t know his dad is the President of the Ryders.” He stared at me, waiting for my expression to change as realization sunk in.
“Oh shit. But… why doesn’t he know?”
“More dark pasts, Pup. Ones I ain’t going into, but I can say he was taken once someone learned the truth of who he was. Two kids of Presidents were taken for retribution.”
“Wow, so Art is now being protected.” I thought of him not wearing a cut. “Wait, is he a Ryder?”
Dagger actually chuckled. “Oh, the irony. My brother is lecturing Lynx yet won’t even allow his kid to become a Prospect. Ain’t that some shit?”
Staring at the counter, I exhaled… “Dagger, I was so young when my dad died, I barely remember missing him until Lynx began treating me the way he does.” I peered up, hoping to see Dagger was understanding where I was coming from.
“Kid, you ain’t no replacement. Prez and Elle are far too stable to be pulling that, trust me. You’re not naïve to trust them. The mad love they already have for you is sincere and won’t fade. This couple… they are the real deal. Whether you like it or not, Pup, you’ve been adopted.”
Like finding dependable concrete to stand on, my chest eased as I relished in the fact that I had parental figures. A father figure again—Father. I suddenly remembered Lynx telling me that his own had passed. “What happened to Lynx’s dad?”
Dagger instantly was fighting some pain of the heart. “Jesus… One of the best Presidents of all time. He’s gone, kid.”
I wanted to ask more questions, but the sliding door opened. As it did, I had an epiphany.
Before I came to meet the Stallions, moments passed by differently. They were dull and terrifying, creating a blurry time where years simply and tragically passed by. With the Stallions, every moment was crisp. Alive. Brighter than the last, as if I was constantly having awakenings.
One of the rare times I was permitted to watch TV, I learned about a type of fish that would only grow according to the space of his environment. If you didn’t give him a bigger fish tank when needed, he would cease to grow. Out in the wild? He grew to impressive sizes.
I think that is what had happened to me in my prior life. I became stifled, so focused on surviving the next moment that I ceased to grow. I had no opportunities to open my gills and inhale fresh water. Except for some fleeting moments with Lace, I had no substance of a life to cling to.
When Diesel and Lynx came back inside, and Lynx still looked so sad, I learned he wasn’t the only one who had something at stake if under a threat. I had done much to protect my mom, but it wasn’t out of love. It was out of the hopes of being loved. I could see that now, staring at Lynx, because he was actually offering me love. No matter the why of it—the loss of a child or the kidnapping of two others—his feelings for me were true. That man and I had a connection. Possibly an unexplainable one, due to the depth of it, but it was there. And seeing him worry—hurt—felt almost as terrible as seeing Lacey in pain. So, I jumped off of my stool. “Lynx?”
He stopped. “Yeah, kid?”
I pulled up my sleeves and exposed my stomach. “I can survive anything.” My brows pinched in thought. “Well, no, not losing Lace, but you already know that.” I refocused. “The rest?” I lifted my chin. “Indestructible.” I tried to smile. “But, truth? Even if I died tomorrow, while having the chance to keep living like a free man, well, then it was all worth it. Do you understand?” Letting my shirt fall back down, I pointed at him. “You gave me that. You. No one has ever given me such a gift. A gift no dollar amount can ever buy. So, no matter what happens, know, rest your heart in knowing that,” my throat tightened, “these past few weeks have been my best.” I shrugged. “Besides crippling regret for leaving my Lacey behind, I could die tomorrow a happy man because of the freedom you have honored me with.”
Silence…
“The fuck?”
Dagger started laughing through the emotions he was fighting. “Yeah, Pup is a little intense.”
Diesel peered about. “No wonder you two have become all domesticated!” He teased, “Hey, kid, you sure you don’t want to become one of my wolves?”
Lynx burst into laughter while yanking me to him. “Fuck off, Ryder. This boy is mine.”
As Lynx was hugging me, Diesel patted my back—rather roughly. “That means we got some el shit-o to celebrate!” He went into the garage.
“Little fucker,” Lynx kissed my hair then shoved me away, “I’ all up in my heart and shit.”
Even with Tequila in my veins, his caring made me stand a little taller.
Within a minute, Diesel was coming back inside with a black something rolled up in his hand. He handed it to Lynx. “This is being delivered with the full blessings of your club.”
Accepting the offering, Lynx appeared to be in shock. “Is this why you’re here?”
Diesel shrugged. “I thought they were nuts, but,” he eyed me, “now I get it.”
Lynx smirked at his VP. “You in on this shit?”
“I plead the fifth.”
“Jesus H. Christ. My club is turning into a bunch of mushy old bastards.” After staring at the item in his hand, Lynx grinned at me. “Wanna see how your cut fits?”
Absolutely hammered on Tequila, and with three laughing bikers in my doorway, I did my best to relocate a chair in my bedroom so I could properly hang my vest. Yet, I didn’t want the leather treasure out of my sight.
Diesel slurred, “Whut’s with da wooden spoon ov’r therrrr?”
“Oh,” answered his brother, “dat’s fur his training.”
“Trainin’? To mek cupcakes?”
Laughter… Laughter…
Staring at the Stallion emblem, I stumbled backward until the back of my legs touched my bed with drunk bikers laughing at me. I didn’t take my eyes off my cut as I awkwardly crawled in bed. Hiccup! “Erm I biiiiiker now?” Hiccup!
Diesel informed me, “Kinda need a bike to be eh biker.”
Laughter… Laughter…
Bam! Dagger complained, “Did yur just fall inta’ me?”
Lynx asked, “Which one of yer? I s-seeee two.”
Laughter… Laughter…
My head hit the pillow and my eyes slid shut. “I can’t wait to hev a dragon.”
“The fffuck?”
Laughter… Laughter…
Walls rattled as the drunk bikers tried to make their way back down the hallway.
“Get orff me!”
Laughter… Laughter…
“Then stop I’ in ma way!”
Laughter… Laughter…
“Did we jus’ tuck a biiiiker nighty-night?”
Laughter… Laughter…
“Hey! No jurdging. At est we let him sweep alone now.”
“The fuuuck?”
Laughter… Laughter…
“Bunch o’ cupcake cookin’ pussies.”
Laughter… Laughter…
Having a safe place to rest—being in the rental home with deadly bikers and feeling protected—made me vulnerable. That’s why, sometime later, when I heard someone come into my room, I didn’t even bother to open my eyes. Men checking on me was nothing new. But when a strong, unfamiliar hand gripped my shoulder, I knew I was in trouble.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Evading Poison
“Stallion for—” attempted the man grabbing my shoulder, but avoiding capture was second nature to me. Even on Tequila. In fact, the alcohol intensified my instinct to evade predators. Hence why I rolled away so fast and got my feet on the carpet. The same male voice whispered, “Hey!” as he shined a penlight in my eyes. “Stallion—”
“That’s right, I’m a Stallion.” Slightly blinded by the light, I still found my way to my dresser and grabbed my spoon. “And I’m trained.”
Another man suddenly whispered, “He’s got a weapon.”
The first guy explained, “It’s a spoon.”
The other man whispered, “You’re to get him—”
If they knew where I was, did they know where Lacey was? And what about my new family? The thought of them hurt, somewhere in their bedrooms, created instant rage and had me charging forward, full force. I was going to try as hard as I could to get to Lynx and my newfound brothers. After that, I was racing to the institute to save Lacey.
“No!” whisper-yelled my assailants once they saw my attack in progress.
Them still bothering to be so quiet, even though I was awake, told me Lynx, Dagger, and Diesel were possibly still alive—sleeping. That had me considering a whole different scenario. Was I to be taken without them knowing? Just when I had found a home—a group to belong to—I was to be kidnapped?
Refusing that fate, I yelled, “Lynx!” while I fought intrusive arms that were trying to get a hold of me. My spoon taps were now hard whacks!
“Kid?” called out a groggy Lynx from down the hall. Then, “Who the fuck—”
Then I heard a gravelly whisper say to him, “Stallion for life.”
Is that some sort of sick thing to say before taking out my Prez? “No!” Completely confused and in the dark as to how many enemies were present, I spun and dodged all the hands trying to contain me. Whack! Whack! “Lynx!”
The number of whispers and grunts was growing, and so was the number of hands trying to get a hold of me. Whack! I squatted and evaded… Whack! What I was sure of was I had to help Lynx.
A man cursed a whisper, “Need a fucking light to grab him!”
I said, “Fuck you!” Whack!
The white penlight was suddenly on my back as I struggled to make my way toward Lynx’s bedroom. Whack! The glow of the light was just enough to show me the hallway was jammed full of sizable bodies.
As they all kept maneuvering, colliding into each other to grab me, I skirted—Whack!—and darted—Whack!—making it past them and to Lynx’s bedroom. A huge man, with a gun, was standing next to Lynx. Clearly, he was forcing my Prez to get dressed.
The thought of anyone daring to force Lynx to do anything had my vision blurring. Lynx was barely done pulling up his jeans when I plowed him out of the way—so that he wouldn’t get shot as I rescued him—then charged, shoving my shoulder into the other man’s gut and knocking him back into Lynx’s unmade bed.
I had barely landed when I heard, “Saint!” A female heavily whispered, “This is your Road Captain! Stand the fuck down!”
In my Tequila state, I froze. Justice?
From behind me, a cellphone was being held near my head. Apparently, my assailants were friendlies. This particular ‘friendly’ was not looking too, well, friendly. Possibly due to the little trickle of blood dripping down his forehead that had been caused by a, perhaps, wooden spoon?
Ah, shit. I gazed down at the man on the bed.
It was Vice. Nostrils flared. He angrily whispered, “It helps to fight with your eyes open!”
Oops?
As I got off the bed, I noticed there were also men peeking out of both of Lynx’s bedroom windows. One was holding the back of his head.
My spoon skills may not be a good way to make new friends.
Shirtless, Lynx was grabbing guns from his nightstand while his in-charge whisper echoed, “Anything?”
Both men at the windows shook their heads no. One said, “Only our own.”
While tucking a gun in the back of his jeans, Lynx’s whisper was wanting answers. “Dag and Diesel?”
A man—holding his elbow, due to yours truly—stood in the bedroom doorway, quietly informing, “Entering the living room now.”
With another gun palmed and a cellphone balanced between his shoulder and ear, Lynx grabbed me by the back of my neck and guided me past men with more guns—and glares for me and my spoon—out into the living room, where there were even more men with drawn guns, luckily not pointed at me. Whew!
Dagger and Diesel were like Lynx, only in jeans but weaponed up. I could practically smell bullets and metal, there were so many weapons present.
In only boxer shorts, I stood behind the couch with the Prez and the VP. There were men at our backs, guns pointed to the dining room windows. To our front were more men, guns pointed to the backyard.
Into the phone, Lynx demanded, “Talk to me.”
Still in his firm grip, and right in front of him, I easily overheard Torque reply, “A Stallion in a coma. Possible poisoning.” His words were short and informative as if time was of the essence. “No club officers answering phones—or moving in beds. Justice is concerned about pizza delivery possibly being poisoned. Called in cavalry.”
Lynx replied, “Smart. Did she see any intruders in here?”
Those words had me suddenly connecting some dots. The men, whenever on the phone with Justice, would nod as if she could see them. With a firm grip still on the back of my neck, I peered up to finally notice little cameras in the ceiling corners.
My eyes raced to the wall my room was behind. Did they see my sheet ‘mishap’? Is that why those fuckers were laughing?
Torque answered Lynx, “Only saw a shadow outside. Could be a false alarm. Took no chances.”
Through the sliding glass doors, I could see dark moving bodies outside, but the way they maneuvered around each other, guns drawn, I knew they were either Stallions or Ryders.
Torque added, “Friendly entering kitchen,” but he hadn’t spoken in time.
Many guns pointed at the noise.
A biker stood with his hands in the air, eyes wide.
Guns came down with low sighs, knowing that could’ve ended badly.
The biker in the kitchen, who had possibly just pissed himself, shared, “Outside is clear.”
A bunch of shoulders eased, but Dagger eyed the surrounding bikers who had been sent to retrieve Lynx and me. His upper lip curled. “Why are you guys injured?”
One biker grumbled, “Ask the spoon bandit.”
I thought this a good time to look anywhere—and everywhere—other than at Dagger. But Lynx jostled me through his hold. “My boy here went rogue.”
Another biker, rubbing his now bruised knuckles, complained, “He’s a hostile little fucker.”
Another biker griped, “It would help if he knew the safe phrase.”
As Dagger glared at me, I shrugged. “Tequila?”
Laughter rumbled around me as Dagger said, “No, little bulldog, it’s ‘Stallions for life’.”
My mouth made an O shape as I recalled the poor biker who kept trying to tell me that.
Lynx’s hand finally loosened on my neck as he exhaled. “Okay, Torque, Justice did right. But why did she assume this had anything to do with us? What Stallion has possibly been poisoned?”
“Lynx,” Torque spoke as if shocked he didn’t know. “Brother, the Stallion is the one from the Kansas penitentiary. Ted and Ed are dead.”
His hand gripped my neck again, tightly. He must ha
ve known what was coming next.
I took a step toward the door, only remembering Lynx’s hold as I stumbled back toward him. “Please, Lynx. What if they know where she is?”
“Somebody fucking talk to me,” demanded the Steel Stallions leader.
“Three sets of eyes,” confirmed Vice as he lifted his phone to his ear. “They got three of ours on their way to her.”
Just then, Lynx said, “Torque, Eagle is callin’ through,” then I heard, “Brother… Yeah… Okay. Solid. Thank you.” He shook my neck. “Safe and sound in bed.”
My head fell forward. “Thank you. Thank you.”
Lynx released me while going on to speak into his phone, “That’s what I’m trying to decide now.” He asked Dagger, “Stay or go?”
Dagger squinted his eye and peered about while pursing his lips. “I’ve become fond of our little getaway, but…” Every sliding glass door, every window, now felt like a way for someone to reach us. It was eerie. “… I don’t see how we can stay.”
Diesel nodded. “They attempted to take down a Stallion. Club is in it now.”
Not only did Stallions respect their leader, but they valued him. Club officers didn’t feel he should stay in the rental that night, not even while belongings were gathered. It was as if his safety was put above others. I found that ironic since he was constantly putting others’ safety above his own. But, with so much unknown lingering, he was immediately prepared for an escort to the Colorado clubhouse.
We were only given minutes to get dressed. That’s all I needed to make sure I grabbed my very own cut.
In the garage, Vice was tying down his black duffle bag of cameras and gadgets, I guess he wasn’t trusting them to anyone else, when he said, “Rental car is a trail, brother. Gotta go.”
Solemnly, Lynx nodded, then handed a set of keys to a Colorado Stallion. “Drop that off for me.”
The biker nodded. “Consider it done.” He went back inside the home.
Dagger, while closing saddlebags on his bike, was on the phone, saying things like, “Capt, we’re I’ ready to move him out… Yep, that is the route we’re taking…”
Standing near Lynx, I observed his mood. “You good?”