by Crescent,Sam
“No. No. You never loved me.” Simon snorted. “I bet most of the time you can’t even stand me. It’s him, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, you do. Your fucking father was more than happy to tell me how much I didn’t compare to your little boyfriend back home.” Simon moved around the table, and Natasha refused to back down. “You think he’s waiting for you? You think he gives a shit about you? I bet he’s fucking whatever pussy he can find. You’re not good enough. You’re never good enough. You just lie there, and take it. You’re fucking useless.”
Natasha glared at him. “And you think you’re any better? You need to hit a woman to make you even feel like a man.” She didn’t wait around for him to say anything. The past five years of being with him, even before that, unleashed, and she shoved him hard. “You’re right. I never loved you. I could never love you.”
Simon shoved her hard against the refrigerator and wrapped his fingers around her neck. “If this Saint is such a good man, why didn’t you stay with him? You think you can divorce me.” He pulled her forward and slammed her against the refrigerator.
“Whenever a guy has a hold of you, go for his nuts. He’ll let go,” Saint said.
“You want me to try on you?” She laughed, staring at Saint’s private parts.
Drawing her knee up, Natasha slammed it against Simon’s knee. Before she could get away, he grabbed her leg even as he screamed. She had never fought back before. Natasha had taken what he had to dish out. Only this time, she didn’t take the beating without a fight. Simon was stronger than she was, and the moment she got the upper hand, she ran out of the house and climbed into her car.
Simon was crazy, and there was only one man she knew who could help her.
Saint.
It was time to go back to Sinners’ Corner.
Chapter One
Present day
“I’m not a damn baby,” Natasha said, gasping as Saint let her go, and she fell to the floor.
“Clearly, you need help.”
A week she had been here, and she glared up at him. “Do you have a caring bone at all in your body?”
“You turn up uninvited at my house, pass out on me, be a complete pain in the ass, and you wonder where my caring went?”
She glared at him. Saint was not the guy she remembered.
You’re not the same girl either.
Staring at his leather MC jacket, she felt sick to her stomach. It was always the Saints and Sinners MC. The moment he’d started prospecting for his father, he changed. Her kind, sweet man had become a monster. The weekends that used to belong to her, stopped. Mondays she’d find him at school with torn up knuckles and bruises from fights. The club life was something she’d never wanted to be part of. After graduation she had begged him, pleaded with him to run with her.
He wouldn’t leave. The club had its claws in him, and she was nothing.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine.” She got to her feet, wincing as her body protested. Lowering herself onto the sofa, she took a deep breath as another wave of pain washed over her. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. There’s no need to be a bitch though.”
“I know. This is your place, and to be honest, I can’t believe I came here.”
“To me or to Sinners’ Corner?” he asked, taking a seat opposite her.
“Sinners’ Corner.”
“This was your home for so long.”
“It’s not my home now.”
“That was your choice. You left.”
“I asked you to come with me.”
“I have family here. A club.”
She shook her head, letting out a sigh. “It doesn’t matter.” He always had many excuses.
“My dad is dead.”
Natasha was shocked. “What?”
“I’m the Prez now. Elena is back. She’s married now with a couple of kids.”
“With someone from the club?”
“Nope. A rival club actually. Hell’s Wolves. She’s married to the Prez, and we get along just fine. You’ve missed a lot by being away.”
She stared at him. His dark brown eyes were almost black. He was twice the size of the guy she remembered. He had been a boy though. Saint was no longer a boy. His large, thick muscles were heavily inked now.
“What about you? Are you with someone?”
“No.”
Natasha raised her brow. “I thought you’d be fucking your way through every single woman.”
“I am. You asked if I was with someone, not fuckin’ them.”
“Oh.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“You married? Got kids?”
She tensed up, staring at him. “I, erm, I’m married. Well, I’m in the process of getting divorced.”
“Why come here? Why come to me for help when you could have gone to your husband?”
“Why are you pissed?”
“I’m not.”
“Well, it just so happens that my husband is also an asshole, Saint. Okay? He’s the one that did this.” She snorted. “I can’t believe it. I left home, and I married a guy who liked to use his fists, only I didn’t discover that for a long time.”
The first time he’d hit her was two years ago. She had been so shocked, and she’d blamed herself for making him mad. Then over the past two years, the slaps had turned into punches, until she had walked away from him. She had wanted a divorce, and wasn’t going to rest until she got it. They had several disagreements during the divorce process. He wanted to make it work, but she accepted it wasn’t going to happen. Then a week ago, he’d turned up at her house, and instead of talking, he’d lashed out, severely beating her. Unable to handle the pain, she had run home. Run back to a man who would protect her.
It was stupid. She had left him, and now she was back with Saint because he was the one guy in her world whom she trusted more than anyone else.
“Your own husband fucking did this to you?”
“Yeah. Can you believe it? After everything you taught me, who I am, I never thought I’d be a victim. That’s what I am, right? The victim.”
“What’s your husband’s name?” Saint asked.
“I’m not telling you. I don’t want you to kill him.”
“You need a divorce, and I can help with that.”
“Look, my husband is a lawyer. He knows how to cause problems. I don’t want you to have anything go wrong. You’re not exactly the most kosher of people.”
He stared at her for a long time.
Tears filled her eyes. “I know it’s asking a lot. You’re the only person I know who’d help me.”
“After all this time?”
“Yeah. Is that weird? After all this time, you’re the only one I can turn to.”
“Your parents left town years ago.”
“They’re dead.”
“What?”
“Yeah. They died in a plane crash heading toward the Alps. They always wanted to go on a skiing holiday. It got them killed. Five years ago.” She had mourned their loss, and that was when she had finally decided to marry Simon Meyer. They had dated on and off, but she’d always refused to take it to the next level. Once her parents passed, and she felt truly alone, she’d caved. At least someone had wanted her.
“Holy shit, I had no idea.”
“You’ve been busy. I don’t expect you to remem—” She was stopped by someone thumping on his door.
Saint got up and made his way toward the door.
“Hey, man, it’s been like a week. Where the fuck have you been?” a man said.
She heard several more people and turned to see three men she didn’t recognize. They paused as they looked at her.
“Who is she?”
“Natasha, this is Rage. Rage, this is Natasha.”
“The Natasha? The girl?” Rage asked, making her frown.
Had Saint talk
ed about her?
“This is Pea and Vanilla.” He pointed at the other men, who nodded at her.
“Nice to meet you,” she said.
“She turned up at my house looking like this,” Saint said. “She has an angry husband who she wants to turn into her ex.”
“So you come here to Saint?” Rage asked.
“Look at her face,” the one called Vanilla said. He moved toward her and knelt down. “This is a shitload of violence.”
“I’m covered in bruises. It wouldn’t be anything but violence.”
“Not necessarily. Some bruises would be so hot.”
She frowned at his choice of words, then looked toward Saint. “What the fuck?”
“He’s kinky.”
“But you called him Vanilla.”
“I’m the least vanilla person here, babe,” Vanilla said.
She shrank back. “You hit women.” She was happy to act tough, but when it actually came to defending herself, she wasn’t strong enough. Against this large, imposing man, she’d lose.
“I would never hurt anyone who didn’t want it. There’s pain that some women, and some men, crave.”
“You’re telling me you’ve never hurt a woman?”
“I’ve never been violent toward a woman, even during a scene. Everything I give a woman, she’s begging for.”
“And if you weren’t sure?” Natasha asked, not understanding why she was even asking.
“Then I would stop the scene, bring her down from her high to make sure. Rarely that happens, but some women can be pushed past their limits and not know when to stop.” Vanilla stood, stared at her face, and she saw the disgust in his. “The man who hurt you is a pig.”
He stormed away. She watched as Pea and Rage made their way out of the house, and Saint looked at her.
“I don’t remember them,” she said.
“They were part of the club before you left. You just didn’t want to know the club.”
“I knew it was changing you, Saint. You weren’t the same boy.”
“I know. There’s a reason for that. I was no longer a boy.”
“You can be a boy without turning into a monster.”
Saint smiled. It was forced, and it was fake. “Baby, I am the monster.” He moved down in front of her so that he blocked her from leaving. She wasn’t frightened though. Out of everyone she knew, Saint was the last person that would hurt her. She remembered the time he’d take her virginity, and the pain he suffered afterward for causing her pain. They had a lot of history, and she wasn’t going to believe for a second that it didn’t mean anything.
“You’re not.”
“I killed one of my own a few months ago. Did you know that? Do you remember Ralf? Fucker was going to cause an all out war with my sister’s man. I couldn’t let that happen.”
“So you killed him?”
“I killed him. Took his life with my bare hands. Don’t go pretending I’m changed, or I’m something new. I’m not. I will kill anyone who comes after the club, and what belongs to me. Now,” he turned and switched on the television, “keep your ass here while I go talk to the adults about business.”
She noticed that he neither included nor left her out of his little speech. Did she belong to him? Would he protect her?
Watching him leave, she knew he would. Saint wasn’t all monster. She refused to believe he’d fallen that far.
****
“Her face is fucked up,” Pea said.
“You should have seen it a week ago,” Saint said, moving out of the house, toward the back. They would have privacy no matter where they stood. It was one of the reasons his father had bought the place.
“You’ve been nursing your ex back to full health?” Vanilla asked.
“She had nowhere else to go.”
“And Natasha has always been able to get under your skin,” Rage said.
“Did you want me to turn the woman away?” All three men went silent. “I did what I had to do. What anyone one of us would do, or at least I’d like to think that it’s what we’d all do.”
Saint glared at all the men.
“I bet you’re wondering why we’re here,” Vanilla said.
“You could say that.”
“Pipe wants a meet. He’s had some cops on his ass. A couple of kids in the neighborhood have died from OD’ing on drugs.”
“That’s what you do when you take too much.”
“You’d think that wouldn’t you,” Rage said, pointing at Vanilla, who pulled a file out of his jacket.
Saint took the picture, seeing the evidence of the drugs that they’d transported out of town for a hefty sum. Saint didn’t want Sinners’ Corner to be a drug central for cartels or drug lords. This was his town, and Pipe felt the same way for his own. Ever since Pipe had married Elena, they had made it work for them both to fight for the same goal. Drug free towns, and safety for their women.
He had a club to protect, and that meant safety for them.
“Someone’s brought our product back?”
“That’s what we thought, but then we had our little scientist friend, the college student, Ethan, check it. It’s not our product. Someone is using a different product, a deadly one, distributing it here.”
Ethan had come to them about a year ago. He’d wanted to Prospect for the club, but he didn’t have what it took physically to compete. What he offered was his academics. He was in his last year of college.
At first Saint truly believed he was a snitch, a rat, or a cop, one or the other. Everything checked out, but Saint wasn’t willing to trust him too much.
He looked at Rage, then back at the picture. “Get our contact in the force. I want to meet him. Tell him I’ll be out by Lovers’ Park tomorrow at noon.”
“Noon, during the day?” Vanilla asked.
“Dude, it’s Lovers’ Park. The only time it will be empty is during the day. Married men take their fucks up there so no one knows,” Rage said.
“You know of that?” Pea asked, glaring.
“Unlike some messed up fuckers, I’m loyal to my wife. Penny is all mine, and I wouldn’t dream of tainting that with some foul pussy. I got a nice clean one all for me.” Rage just loved winding up Pea.
Pea was married to Rage’s woman’s sister, Melissa. They had an unconventional relationship, one that not many understood. They were married, but they saw other people, an open relationship.
Saint didn’t know how Pea could stand to see Melissa with other men. If any woman belonged to him, he’d never let another fucker touch her.
Glancing back at the door, he thought about Natasha. She’d been his woman once. He would fight so damn fiercely for her. They had been inseparable from the time they were young kids.
She’d been with him when his mom left, taking Elena with her. When life got too damn hard at home, she’d be there for him. The nights he didn’t want to stay home, he’d camp out in her room, waiting for the time to pass until he had to leave so her parents never found him there. Natasha had changed. He saw it when he looked into her eyes. She was no longer the young girl, or the young woman he’d fallen in love with. She’d grown up, getting more curves than he’d ever dreamt was possible. He wanted to pull her close, feel her hot, soft body next to his.
“You okay?” Rage asked, interrupting his thoughts.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Natasha is back, and you’re staring at the house like a lost puppy.”
“I’m right here, okay? Get the meet set, and I’ll be there. This is not a fucking problem. I’m helping her out, but do me a favor, put a search out for Natasha’s husband. I want to know what I’m dealing with. Greenwood was her name. Natasha Greenwood.”
Pea and Vanilla nodded. “Sure thing.” They made their way back to their bikes, leaving Saint to deal with Rage.
“What?”
“You sure you’re okay?”
He didn’t like the way Rage was staring at him, clearly waiting for him to snap. N
othing was wrong with him. Natasha was back, and it didn’t fucking matter.
“I’m fine.”
Rage held his hands up. “You can lean on anyone you want, any time. The club whores will help you get over any problem you’re having.”
“I’m not having a problem.”
“You admitted to me what Natasha meant to you. You don’t think I’ve seen you staring off into space? Watching the couples that are at the club? Wondering?”
“I’m not wondering about shit. What happened between Natasha and me is in the past.”
“Is it? I mean really? She left you, and you’re still alone. You fuck the whores that will have your dick. You never stay a whole night with any of them. You bang them, and move on.”
“I’m starting to get concerned that you’re way too invested in what my dick actually does. I don’t like to share. My bed is my own. Are we done?” Saint stepped up close to his VP, knowing he was being a dick. He didn’t like how close to home Rage was.
Natasha was back, and he’d never stopped thinking about her. She’d moved on, so he’d banged everything he could in order to get over her. His father once told him that the only way to get over one woman, was to have another already sitting in her place.
The problem was, no woman ever matched up to Natasha. It wasn’t just about her pussy for him. Natasha had been his girl. She belonged completely to him. From the time they were little, they had been in each other’s lives, and throughout their growing up, had fast become each other’s first.
She was his first kiss, first love, first everything.
When she had left, she’d taken a huge part of him with her. For the past fourteen years, he’d not been able to breathe. The moment she collapsed in his arms, he’d finally found that breath she took away, and he didn’t want to let it go.
Entering his home, he stopped to see her kneeling on the sofa, waiting for him. In a flash, he saw the younger Natasha. The one who always had a smile for him, and a kind word.
“Is everything okay?” she said, dissolving the memory.
It used to be, “hello, handsome.” She’d always have something fun and witty to say.
“Club business.”