“How the fuck is killing a bitch an accident?” Everyone’s scrutiny falls to me, waiting for me to answer our President. I guess he’s not buying it.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
This wasn’t supposed to come out like this. I needed to hash it out with Viking privately. I get it. These are my brothers, and we don’t keep fuck-all from each other, but I’m lost with this shit. I value his opinion and wanted it firsthand. He’d know what to do or at least help me figure it out.
“She was on something, tripping hard and came after me. This was after I’d met her kid and was trying to get her to agree to an annulment,” I declare, the revelation slipping without thought and Saint stands, his chair crashing to the floor behind him.
“You married the fucking cunt?” he bellows, rage beating down on me from his gape.
“It’s not like that, Saint,” I backtrack, making an effort to placate him, “I was fucked up when she got me to agree to anything.”
“Excuses!” he shouts.
I can only gape, scrambling to come up with something to say.
“After everything…after everything I’ve done for you. I fucking loved you; you were mine,” he finishes, fishing his favorite blade free from his side pocket. Thank God he’s not near his beloved machete. With a twist of his wrist the blade gleams, the sharp metal exposed and ready to do its damage.
“Calm down, brother.” Viking jumps to his feet, the others hurrying to follow suit.
“Don’t tell me to calm the fuck down. Sinner belongs to me.” Saint’s voice warps, going dark; I’ve never seen him so irate before. “I’ll show you what happens to those who betray me.”
Everyone springs into action as he lunges for me. I’m in shock. Never in a million years did I expect him, of all people, to turn on me. My body remains rooted in place as his hand grows near, connecting before I can blink or process what he’s doing.
He’s never hurt me in anyway before, always playing the savior when I’ve been in trouble. He’s killed many in our time together, but not an ounce of that menace was pointed in my direction. He’s forever been my Saint—my lifeline in a sense.
It takes a moment for me to register what he’s done, my heart breaking into a million shreds with the outcome. “You stabbed me,” I utter brokenly, shaken to my very core that he’d ever harm me in any way.
“You made me do it,” he proclaims as brothers wrench him away from me, separating us as much as the small room will allow.
“H-how is this my fault?” Gasping, my throat grows tight as the pain strikes me not where the gash is, but straight in my heart.
“You touched her, you married her, and you forgot who you belong to,” Saint retorts, shaking his head. He’s convinced that I fucking deserve this. In his mind, I’m guilty, and he’s punishing me for it.
“No, Saint.” My palm covers my side, growing slick with my own blood. Pausing, I try to collect my thoughts, everything a bit hazy.
Swallowing, I continue. “I never forgot. I killed her for you. She wouldn’t agree… Sh-she tried to keep me, so I killed her...for you.” Finishing, I grow weak.
Glancing at my rib area, there’s so much blood. My hand’s coated in the thick merlot liquid, my adrenaline draining away at the same time. It wouldn’t mean much in any other situation, but it belongs to me.
My eye’s close just as I hear our Prez. “Oh fuck, somebody catch him! Call 2 Piece now; we need him sewn up,” he orders and a wounded scream like no other escapes Saint as he fights against our brothers. Everything grows silent as the compassion of passing out finally sets in against the blood loss and my broken heart.
Sinner’s eyes close, and he tumbles out of his chair—unresponsive—and the reality of what I’ve done sets in. I didn’t aim for an area that would kill him, but to see him drop like a sack of potatoes has my stomach dropping and my mind going wild with ideas. “Do something!” I shout as the brothers pin me up against a wall, keeping me away from him.
A fist flies into my stomach, but it does nothing to slow me down. I’ve got too much adrenaline coursing through my body. My head slams into Torch, busting his nose wide open and blood sprays over my face. This time a fist coming from him hits my temple with enough force that I’m out for the count, like a kid taking his first dose of Benadryl.
Softness is not weakness. It takes courage
to stay delicate in a world this cruel.
- Beau Taplin
I’m sitting at the picnic table out back soaking up some sunshine and sipping on lemonade when a gorgeous woman approaches me. She’s nothing like the skanky looking females I’ve noticed scattered around the club who hang on a few of Saint and Sinner’s brothers. Her hair’s in a ponytail; it’s blonde and reaches the top of her butt. She wears a perfect smile as she gets closer, and I take in her short, black leather shorts, white wife-beater tank top, and matching white Chucks.
“Hey,” she greets and sits across from me. “You must be Jude.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I nod and smile in return. Me calling her ma’am brings out a giggle in return.
“Please, the last ma’am was my mom. I’m Princess.”
“Your name is Princess, or do you get a nickname like everyone else?” Does she ride a motorcycle too? She looks like a different type of woman compared to the other females around here, and I wouldn’t put it past her owning her own bike.
“No, my name is actually Princess. The only nickname anyone here has given me is the Ice Queen and Cinderella.” She turns, throwing a thumb toward the back of her shirt, wanting me to read it.
“Viking’s Property?” I read aloud, the words coming out as a question and she faces me again with a nod. She’s pleased about it, obviously.
“Yep, that’s my ol’ man.”
“Wait, the big, Nordic looking guy who slammed Saint on the hood yesterday?”
She snickers. “That sounds like him, so I’m going to go with yes. He’s my husband and the President of the club.”
“Oh wow, how does he not scare you? The guy is massive.” My honesty pours from my lips, not used to censoring what I have to say around others.
She sighs, her eyes growing all dreamy. “I think it’s hot. He goes all barbarian on me sometimes, and I love it.”
I can understand, the bad boy vibe is definitely alluring. I have it myself for both Saint and Sinner, and I suppose they come off as frightening to some people as well.
“So, are you here with Saint, then, or Sinner? My ol’ man wasn’t sure which one when he gave me the CliffsNotes version of you.”
“Well, Saint drove me here, but then Sinner made me sleep in his bed, so...” I shrug, not having a clue how to answer her the correct way. I probably sound like a whore admitting I’m kind of here for them both.
Her smile brightens again, flashing straight white teeth, “They’ve never brought anyone home before,” she divulges. “I was curious about you.” She scans over me from my hair down to my lemonade. “You’re a bit young for them from what I’ve heard, but you’re also blunt. I like that.”
Shrugging, I take another drink. I’ve never been any other way. I’m glad to finally meet someone around here that seems to be friendly. The guys haven’t spoken to me much, and the skanky chicks just frown my way.
“Oh!” She reaches around pulling something free from her back pocket. She holds up a pair of black flip flops. “These are for you. I almost forgot. Viking said you didn’t have shoes with you.”
“Thank you so much. I’ve been wearing a pair of socks, but it’s felt kind of awkward. Maybe that’s why the women around here have been so blatantly scowling each time I walk by.”
“No, sweetie, those bitches are just jealous. That’s why they’re rude and give you dirty looks. You possess something they desire and can’t get, so you have to put them in their place right away.”
“What could I have? They’re surrounded by guys! And besides, I’m just me.” I point to mys
elf and make a goofy face.
“Yeah. However, you just showed up with not one of the brothers, but two. Members are dropping like flies around here, coming home with ol’ ladies. When that happens, the club sluts are less and less needed around here, and they become more possessive in return. I look forward to the day that the majority of the members have a steady woman in their lives.”
“Club sluts?”
“Yep, the hoes trying to land on the back of a brother’s bike, and in your case, the hateful stares you’ve been receiving.”
“That’s kind of harsh, don’t you think?”
“No. In fact, you’ll learn quickly that they don’t give two shits about you at all. They want your man, and they’ll do what they can to replace you. If I remember correctly there’s one here that has had her eyes set on Saint and Sinner.”
“Lovely.”
She sighs and continues. “I try not to pay too much attention to which chicks they’re sleeping around with and just concentrate on Viking. He keeps me plenty busy.”
“She wants them both?” I don’t know why, but that thought pisses me off. She’s greedy, trying to have two men—the specific I’m here with. I’d have no idea either if it wasn’t for Princess letting me know. The guys never would’ve mentioned it, I’m sure.
She nods. “Keep an eye out for Cherry. You’re young, so she’ll try to push her weight around with you. Just remember she’s irrelevant to the guys, just a piece of easy ass. Honey’s not much better, either.”
What the hell is up with these names? Honey and Cherry? Is there a Blueberry and Syrup running around some place also? Geez, they make my name sound so plain in comparison. Jude, just boring old Jude...
“Wow. I appreciate the heads-up, Princess.”
She grins. “No problem. I’m happy about them going. Less shit I have to deal with. Odin’s bad enough. So, have the boys claimed you yet?”
“I’ll be honest here; I don’t know what you mean.”
“Then it hasn’t happened. Trust me; you’ll know when it does.” She winks and the back door slams open.
The bartender, Blaze, comes outside, huffing with blood spray on his shirt. “Oh, good. Viking was just asking about you.” He pins his gaze on Princess.
“Me? Is he okay?” She’s a lot calmer than I’d be. If someone came searching for me with blood on their shirt, I’d probably freak out.
“He’s fine, it’s...” He quiets, with a sidelong glance in my direction. I’m guessing he can’t say with me sitting here. That’s fine; I have no desire to know their business, especially with blood obviously involved in some way.
“I see. Do you need my help or? Are you the one bleeding, Blaze?”
“Everything’s straight, 2 Piece should be here anytime. This is from Torch, but he’s fine too. Maybe hang out and keep Jude company since we’re busy?”
“Yeah, that’s no problem. Are you going to be behind the bar?”
He shrugs, disappearing with a slam of the massive back door.
“That was weird,” I mutter.
“Guess they’re going to take longer than usual. Want to get a drink? If he’s not in there, I can make us a mean margarita.”
I have no idea what that is, but hopefully, it’s good and doesn’t make me sick in the morning again. “Okay.”
“Bethany, my best friend should be here soon too. She’s dropping her son off with the babysitter so some girl time will be fun.”
“Should we be worried about that guy bleeding?” I gesture toward the closed door.
“Nah,” She waves it off. “They’ll take care of it; that’s what 2 Piece is for. Plus, they don’t like women getting involved with their club business. It’s best if we just make a few pitchers and relax.”
“A few pitchers?” My voice is weary at the amount that implies.
“Hell yeah, lady. I’m telling you, I make ‘em good.” She grins triumphantly and climbs to her feet.
Following suit, I grab my lemonade glass and silently pray that whatever she’s planning on making isn’t too sweet. I was nauseous until I ate with the guys earlier, and I’m not looking forward to that happening again. I hope Bethany’s as friendly as Princess too. I could get used to being around them if they’re both always like this.
“And then, I punched her!” Bethany hoots, nearly falling over on her barstool. She’s funny and outspoken, not like the women I’ve been around at home. They’re boring compared to these two.
I take another gulp of the sweet and tangy concoction as Princess giggles. “It was so great; the scream Honey let out, you’d think she was dying.”
“You actually walked up to the woman and just hit her?” My mouth nearly falls open, and Bethany nods.
“Pretty much, but that was after I laid one hell of a kiss on my man.”
Princess leans forward a bit over the round, counter-height table between us, “I told you, Jude, you have to stake your claim and let these hoes know that you mean business. Once you stand up to them, they wiggle their way back into the cracks they seeped out of.”
“I’m not sure Sinner would be thrilled if I punched someone.” I rationalize. “But Saint probably wouldn’t care.”
“Saint would probably jizz in his pants,” Bethany snorts and then downs half her glass.
“I don’t actually know how to hit someone though,” I admit after a moment, staring down at the black painted table top.
“I can teach you,” Princess offers with a wink and a smile full of mischief.
I don’t know if I’ve stumbled upon trouble or two of the best types of friends I could’ve wished for.
“How long do you think it’s been since the guys went to Church?” I glance around, noticing a few of them in the bar drinking as well. They weren’t here when we first sat down, the place was empty. Princess and Bethany had to school me on the concept of biker church too. I still don’t understand why they call it that, but whatever.
“They should be done soon.” Bethany glances at Princess. “Right, P?”
“It’s been a few hours, so they should be fine by now. I’m sure someone would’ve said something if that wasn’t the case.”
“Jesus, the time has flown by,” I mutter, as Saint finally comes walking toward me. “Oh, Saint! Are you guys all done?”
He flashes a sad smile. “Yeah, baby girl, I think so.”
“So, isn’t that a good thing?” I thought church was where they discussed the important club stuff, or at least that’s what the ol’ ladies told me.
“Not in this case.” He grabs my glass and chugs the rest of my margarita then refills it. “You havin’ a good time with these troublemakers?”
“Yeah, they’re a lot nicer than the other women around here.”
“Yeah. We need to talk.”
“Okay…?”
He grips my arm with one hand and the glass with the other. “Ladies, we’ll be back.” He leans in closer. “Can you walk all right?”
“I feel fine.” I wave him off, climbing down from my seat and attempt to stand.
My hand shoots to the table to steady myself. “Oh my God, those drinks did not seem that strong!”
The girls laugh at me, and Saint tucks me in closer, slipping his arm around my waist. “I got you; let’s go to my room for a bit.”
It takes longer than usual with my wobbly strides, but eventually, we make it. He lets me plop down on his bed, the fluffy mattress a welcome sight.
“Where’s Sinner?”
“He…uh…he’s resting.”
“That sounds so nice right now; maybe we should go to his room instead. We could all take a nap.”
“Not yet.” He shakes his head and sits so close the entire side of my body presses against his. With the alcohol helping me relax, all I can think about is these two finally having their way with me.
“I feel good, Saint. We could get naked like you mentioned earlier.”
A su
rprised chuckle falls from his lips, and he presses them to my forehead, leaving behind a soft, chaste kiss. “I like you drunk, baby; you’re fun.”
“Why do you call me that?” I mumble, lying back against his fluffy, sangria colored comforter. My shirt rides up, stopping just underneath my breasts and exposing my stomach as I rest my arms above my head.
“Fuck, you’re one sexy bitch,” he growls, crawling farther onto the bed, resting beside me. His fingertip draws a line from the top of my shorts, over my bellybutton and stops at the juncture between my breasts. I hold my breath the entire time, relishing in the sensation.
“Baby girl?” he asks, and I hum in response. “Because you’re the youngest Sinner’s ever had any interest in and hearing you call him daddy, kinda cemented it in place.”
“I like it,” I admit and yawn, the alcohol stupor overtaking my brain.
“Yeah?” His voice grows near as his lips find my neck, licking and nipping like he did before.
“Mmm, I like that too—more than the nickname.”
He chuckles; the sound is raspy against my skin. “I was wondering why he found you interesting, but I think I get it now.” His hand spreads, resting under my breast. It’s enough to make me squirm, wanting him to touch me there. My nipples silently beg for his attention.
“Why?” My voice is breathless with the anticipation.
“Because, baby, you’re perfect for us. You are for both of us.”
“Even you?” I can’t help but repeat. I know he just said it, but my foggy mind needs to hear him say it again. It’ll mean more if he repeats it.
I’ve barely met the man, but I’ve learned so much in a very little time. Sinner cares for him like no other, and he’s special to me...so that means Saint is part of it too. These guys are a packaged deal if I want one. I need to want the other as well.
“Yeah sugar, even me. I was thinking about killin’ ya when I found out about you.”
I find myself sputtering and attempting to sit up with the alcohol causing my head to spin a bit with the quick movement. I don’t get far though as his large hand pushes me backward, flat against the bed. His statement has me reeling, who says stuff like that?
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