Hostile Saint (Steel Stallions MC Book 1)

by India R. Adams

  Where am I?

  I opened my eyes to find myself still in the SUV. It was now dark outside, and my face was up against the window. Right next to my door was Lynx, wearing his cut, quietly talking to a woman. She was quite a bit smaller than him, but her messy ponytail, shaved sides, leather vest, gun on hip, and a knife strapped to her leathered thigh, screamed, Do not fuck with this because I skip the bark and go straight to the bite.

  I was still tired as hell, but in an instant, I knew she was Justice.

  About twenty feet from the SUV, Dagger and Vice were also in their cuts, talking with gathered Stallions, hugging and speaking of a fallen Stallion who would be missed.

  Charlie was trotting around, sniffing everything and everyone—and hiking a leg here and there.

  Still right next to me, Justice was quietly telling Lynx, “I know you hate it, but that doesn’t change facts. I smell Weasel Stench.”

  Lynx closed his eyes and shook his head. “There’s got to be something else we’re missin’.”

  She put a hand, no longer gloved, on her hip. “Thank God, I came. You’re too tired to see what’s right in front of your face. It’s called Rat-on-a-Platter.”

  Lynx ran two palms down his face. “Maybe the prison visit phone was tapped.”

  “Bro, this is me you’re talking to. I ain’t no fucking rookie.”

  “They had face-to-face visits, huh?”

  “Yep. Plus, that Stallion had no info to give us because he followed orders. Asked no questions.” She leaned in and poked his chest. “You need to listen the fuck up, Prez, because if you don’t, you’re putting our new pup in danger.”

  Lynx’s spine stiffened.

  Captain smirked. “That’s right. Use that wicked brain dad gave each of us. None of the chapters involved have had any new Prospects or patch-ins. Only before all this shit has started. Which means—”

  “Jesus. H. Christ.”

  “Ding! Ding! Ding!” she heavily whispered. “My guess? Kansas Chap was already getting close to something that someone doesn’t want them involved with here. Hence ‘the rat’. Oz needs a heads up, but if my gut is right, we need to handle all this shit with care. We have no idea who is dirty. And no one is fucking with the pup or his Pretty Girl.” Her nostrils flared, just like her older brother’s when he’s agitated. She glared about as if any bystander could be her enemy. “Not on my watch.”

  During a pause, Lynx grinned, and his eyes adored. “I have fucking missed you, ya little terror on heels.”

  Her head snapped back to him, and she sneered, “I don’t wear fucking heels, you asshole—”

  He yanked her into an embrace. “God, I love you.”

  She swatted at his side but finally surrendered and melted to him, saying, “Love you, too.” That’s when her immense grey eyes met mine, even with the darker tinted windows.

  Still leaning against her brother, she rested a finger to the glass between us.

  It was wild but felt very natural to lift my hand and do the same. Uncanny, to say the least, but there was an instant connection. We may have talked a few times on speakerphone, and she may have watched my every move in the rental house, but face-to-face is when we truly saw each other. One damaged soul silently speaking to another.

  As our fingertips lingered, a deep voice said, “Sis, meet my kid, Saint.”

  When her red lips finally smiled, I saw beyond her tough as nails exterior. “Hi, Saint.” When I smiled in return, a little gasp escaped her. “He’s just a baby.”

  Lynx beamed at me. “Another wolf in the making.”

  My eyes shifted, alerting them both to someone approaching. They instantly parted and faced what was coming.

  A large man had a saddened face but open arms. “Brother, I’m glad you’re here.”

  Lynx hugged him. “Oz, I’m so sorry for the loss…”

  As they talked, Justice opened my door. I was sure to hold my Dad’s urn so it wouldn’t fall out. She leaned in and whispered, “I take it you heard some of that conversation?”

  I nodded.

  She looked regretful but whispered, “I need you to stay with one of your Austin officers or Diesel at all times. Understood?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Good. I’m going to do my best to keep you at my side, but officers will be having a meeting. I have to be in there. You,” she shook her head, as if not wanting to follow a club law for the very first time, “are not allowed in there.” Her hand rested on my knee. “But I trust Diesel as much as my own brother.”

  I nodded, totally believing her, and understood why she felt that way.

  “Be sure to put on your cut and keep it on unless told by one of your officers. You are to keep your weapons on you at all times. Understood?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “If anyone tries to get you alone, stay with an officer. If anyone tries to pump you for info without an officer monitoring the conversation, do not talk—”

  Charlie tried to push past her to see me, but she snarled, “Dog. Sit.”

  Charlie sat.

  As if Justice was very accustomed to being obeyed, she now ignored the dog and laid a hand on my dad’s urn. “I am sorry for all that keeps getting thrown at you, but one day soon, we will be home and able to chill the fuck out.” In Justice’s ‘rip-the-Band-Aid-off’ style, she added, “Just not today.” She stood. “Let’s go.”

  Stepping out of the SUV, I was surprised that Charlie didn’t move. He waited, watching Justice until she gestured that he could come to me, which he did with his nubby tail wagging a million times a second.

  The man who was talking to Lynx saw me and stared. Then he looked to my urn and back at my face. “Lynx, you said kid but… damnit. He’s just a kid.”

  Lynx put his arm around my shoulders and said, “Pup, this is Oz, the President of this chapter.”

  My eyes went wide. “I am very sorry about your Stallion. His wife must be heartbroken. If you could, sir, please tell her I never wanted anyone hurt. And if he has children, well,” I gazed down to the urn in my arms, “I feel their pain and wish it wasn’t happening to them.” I lifted my chin and stood tall. “I will do my best to honor—Oh,” my shoulders hunched, “I’m sorry, I’ve never been told his name.” I started over, standing tall again. “I will do my very best to honor your Stallion by growing into a good man so he did not die in vain.”

  Blink. Blink. After a pause, Oz said, “His name was Cross. Thank you for your condolences, son, but I don’t hold you responsible at all. That guilt lays with the fuckers who dared to touch my club.” His voice lowered, “And they will pay.”

  Many voices rumbled in agreement. That’s when I realized we had gained a crowd.

  I guess everyone wanted to see the ‘kid’ who was taking them to war.

  This chapter’s clubhouse was located on a flat piece of land that was typical for this part of Kansas. The home was an old, white, very large, two-story farmhouse with a wraparound porch. After my Stallion officers had gone into a meeting, I sat on that porch a lot, holding my dad’s urn, Charlie sitting between my legs. It was like Diesel wanted something at his back. In Diesel fashion, he chose a motherfucking house. His men lingered, but the vibe brewing told me and other bikers they weren’t interested in conversation, or me being disturbed.

  It seemed all the Stallions who truly understood the dynamics of another club on their turf were also in the meeting. The newer members were baffled and only permitted the intruders because they were ordered to. Maybe they were also baffled because Ryders were the ones heavily guarding a Stallion.

  When my officers resurfaced a couple of hours later, they came out the front swinging doors like a charged lightning storm. Charlie stood, focused like he was reading the gathered energy. It was Lynx fuming. And he wasn’t the only one. Many Stallion officers scanned the property as if out for blood.

  Diesel also stood, blocking my view, but I could still see tense huge shoulders. Then Dagger’s eye patch. His one blue
eye found me, and I swear he exhaled relief.

  Vice met the eyes of the redheaded Ryder Enforcer he loved to tussle with. That man stood by my chair, giving Vice a chin-dip in some sort of silent communication.

  The waiting Stallions, outside in the yard, all stared at the porch, trying to assess what was about to happen. They didn’t have to wait long. One of the men standing with them took off running into the night.

  All of a sudden, a whistle blew out, and Charlie took off running.

  Scared for my dog I was responsible for and already treasured, I stood. “Wait—” but a command had been given.

  That sweet dog now looked predatory as his claws dug into the wooden porch before he leaped, skipping the stairs altogether. His muscular legs and back propelled him into the night… until there was a male scream.

  My jaw fell. I desperately wanted to ask what was happening, but Justice had told me to stay quiet. So, like Charlie, I followed orders.

  Dagger told his brother, “To their room.”

  Without question, Diesel had my arm and headed us in the opposite direction. Flanked by his men, we made our way around the house and off the wraparound porch. That’s when I saw, off to the side of the property, another building called the guest paddocks. It was also white and definitely newer. Looking more like a motel, there were separate entries to each room.

  I was ushered into one of the rooms with Diesel. His men, staying outside, shut the door behind us. Diesel locked it. There is where we stayed for another few hours.

  Sitting at the edge of the queen bed farthest from the door, I asked him, “Do you think that man who screamed is alright?”

  Diesel sat at a small table in front of the window, by the door. The drapes were closed tight. “Far from it.”

  All I could assume was it truly sucked being a rat when it came to being involved with one-percenters. “Do you think Charlie is okay?”

  “I do. I also think he’s doing his job. Protecting his owner. They have him sniffing the property.”

  “Can you tell me what he’s sniffing for?”

  “No, sir-o.”

  After a while, I asked, “Will I get to see the video?” My dad’s urn was safely on my nightstand, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what could possibly be on the VHS tape.

  Checking his phone periodically, he told me, “If it’s something you need to know, yes.”

  There were leftover burger wrappings on the table. A ‘bunny’ had brought us food, but Diesel said we weren’t hungry. It was a lie. I was starving. But the Redemption Prez wasn’t trusting anyone, apparently, and sent one of his own out for food.

  “Do you think they’re watching my dad’s tape? Reading—talking about the journal?”

  “Good God, you ask a lot of questions.”

  That pissed me off. “Sorry to annoy you, el sir-o, but I’m just a tad bit curious as to why my life is in fucking shambles.”

  A brow lifted as he licked his teeth. “So, there is a little spark in the pup, after all. I was starting to think my men made up the whole spoon attack.”

  I grumbled, “I have a gun now.”

  “Did it replace your binky?”

  “My what?”

  He sat forward, leaning his elbows on his knees like I’d seen his brother do. “Listen up, Pup.” He exhaled, “I’m going to answer all your questions with this; I believe your officers are doing whatever it takes to keep you safe, so be patient. And forgiving. No matter what you see, try and remember we have our own way of handling things.”

  When I just sat there, staring at him, trying to control my imagination that had just been set ablaze, he snarled, “El comprend-o?”

  The Stallion knock I was learning well rattled the door. Diesel unlocked it to let Lynx, Justice, and Dagger inside. As Charlie rushed past them, I quickly noticed the VCR in Dagger’s hand, and something else.

  Charlie jumped up on the bed and sat with me while I observed my friends. They all appeared quite calm, but Lynx and Dagger had bloody knuckles and Justice had a speck of blood on her face.

  Diesel eyed me as if reminding me of the words he’d just spoken.

  Petting Charlie, I swallowed, then asked my officers, “Are you okay?”

  Not answering, Justice took a seat at the table with Diesel while Dagger went to the TV on the dresser and started hooking up the player.

  Lynx sat on the other bed and faced me. Looking at his red knuckles, I asked, “Were you in a fight?”

  He stared at them. “You could say that.”

  I was figuring out the truth, so it bothered me that details were still being hidden. I grumbled, “What is with all the vague answers lately?”

  Leaning behind the TV with a cord in his hand, Dagger warned, “Pup, knock it off.”

  I crossed my arms in a scowling manner.

  Lynx smirked. “I sure like seeing that fire, kid.”

  Everyone in the room was smiling, so I asked, “What?”

  Lynx shrugged. “No matter how many kicks to the gut, you still keep showing glimpses of fight in ya.” He dipped his chin. “We respect that.” His smile faded. “Especially knowing we have another kick to deliver.”

  “Oh, God.” I stopped touching Charlie and grabbed my cell. “Lace?”

  Charlie whimpered.

  “Kid! Calm the fuck down,” demanded Lynx. “She’s fine.”

  I pointed to his hands. “Then, what happened?”

  He shook his head. “Club business. But what I can tell you is we found the rat.” He looked to the dark grey carpet. “It seems your shitty brothers know you’re alive, and that’s why they bailed. Which may mean—Damn, I’m sorry, kid.”

  Scared shitless, I madly tapped on my phone. “No! She was sleeping!”

  Dagger turned and leaned against the dresser. “Lynx! You’re gonna give this kid a heart attack!” He told me, “For Lacey’s safety, we’re gonna have to proceed with the false identities.”

  Oh. I exhaled. “Is that it?” I looked to Lynx. “But, she’s okay?”

  Dagger pointed to my phone. “Yes, but check. That’s what it’s for.”

  In her bed, snuggled under a blanket, my girl was sound asleep.

  I eyed Lynx. “Just the identities? That’s it?”

  Justice pulled out the VHS tape and held it up for me to view. “There is also a personal thing.” She stood and reached over Lynx’s bed to hand me what I had been craving to see.

  Then she and Diesel left the room.

  Dagger turned on the TV, then headed for the closed door.

  “You’re leaving?”

  He stopped, then slowly faced me. “I, uh, thought you might want some privacy.”

  I could feel my innards trembling as I shook my head no.

  I looked to Lynx. “Will you guys stay with me?”

  Having expected to see a satanic ritual, or something criminal, I covered my mouth when my dad suddenly appeared on the TV. He was just as I had remembered him, but now being older, I noticed how young he actually had been. I would have guessed no more than twenty-two, even though he already had stress lines.

  Sitting on a stool, with a solemn expression, he nodded to someone off-screen then began to talk into the camera. “This video is for my son, Tate Young. If you’re not him, but are someone with a good heart,” he swallowed, “I beg you not to watch this private message.”

  Dagger pushed pause on the old VCR. “We stopped watching at this point. This is for you. So…” He tried to leave again.

  More inner trembles shook me. “Please stay.”

  Charlie laid his head in my lap.

  Reluctantly, Dagger came back. “I guess if the dog has the balls,” he pushed play, then sat on my bed, “I need to.”

  On the TV, my dad blew out a shaky breath. “If you are Tate…” He choked out, “I’m so sorry.” He gave a slight shrug as his dark blue eyes watered. “You may be too young to understand, but if you’re watching this, it means I failed you.” He wiped a large hand down his reddening
face. “It means I am missing out on watching you grow into,” he whispered the next part as if saying the words out loud was causing him grave pain, “a man.”

  He was barely old enough to be one himself yet carried evident maturity.

  My dad blew out more air then stared at the ceiling. “You watching this means bad people found out I was searching for your mother.”

  I swayed on the edge of my bed.

  Now looking to the floor at his feet, my dad shook his head. “You watching this video means I made a horrible mistake, and,” his shoulders shook as he began to cry, “I left my son all alone, to face them.”

  Even though I was holding back, with all my power, tears dripped from my trembling chin.

  Also trying to stop crying, my dad held up his hand to someone approaching him. “No. I don’t want anyone to see you if this falls in the wrong hands.” It sounded like a female sniffling from behind the camera, right before my dad coughed, attempting to collect himself.

  He readjusted on the stool then set his shoulders back, lifting his chin. “Maybe, just maybe I will be a better father from above.” His jaw locked. “If I’m gone,” he pointed up, “there, I will do everything in my power to send someone to watch over you.”

  Not able to hold it in anymore, I grabbed the t-shirt at my chest and howled to the ceiling.

  Dagger quickly paused the tape as Lynx yanked me from the bed and held me so tight. “He did, son. Fuck. I’m here. I swear it.”

  We stood there, both shaking.

  Dagger tried to soothe Charlie while Lynx tried to do the same for me. I cried so hard, nodding, practically choking on tears as he kept repeating, “I’m here. I’m here…”

  My dad was gone. And he had known he was going.

  Lynx held me as I cried…

  He held me… I cried… until my tears were spent.

  Once I finally calmed down, I sat back down on the edge of the bed again. Charlie quickly came to me as Lynx handed me a bottle of water. “Try to drink that.”

  I took a long pull before Dagger hit play.

  The video continued. “Tate, my little boy, there was, uh, a place that housed many children, of all ages. Kids were sent there for different reasons, but the people who were supposed to take care of them were… uh, not kind…”