Savage Saints MC Series: The Complete Box Set

by Hazel Parker

  “Thanks,” she said as she watched him do the same to his own hand, then toasted his shot glass with her own before licking the salt from her hand and throwing back the shot, following it by sucking on the lime. She pulled a face of discontentment but didn’t complain, shaking off the taste with a little shudder.

  “Feel better?” he asked.

  “No,” Nina replied, letting her head rest on her folded arms. She looked up at him blearily, already apparently pretty drunk. “Am I a bad person?”

  Vance blinked in surprise as he gathered the glasses. “Why would you even ask that?”

  “Adam wants me to sell the motel,” she explained. Vance already knew that, of course, but he did wonder why she was telling him.

  “And?”

  “I don’t want to do it,” she replied. “I love him, but I love the Oasis, too.”

  “So he shouldn’t be making you choose,” he asserted. Nina looked for a moment like the statement might have been a step too far, and he knew that it very well could have been. It was not his place to tamper in their relationship, and really, he wasn’t sure why he was even interested in doing so.

  “Another shot,” she said instead of replying, and Vance could do nothing but oblige her request.

  By the time the bar closed, Nina was absolutely wasted. Vance had been trying to coax her into slowing down on the alcohol and maybe having some more water, but she was insistent, and she was also a woman who knew how to get what she wanted. She’d already had several shots and a few mixed drinks when he definitively cut her off and told her that the bar was closing.

  “Thanks for the distraction,” she slurred, her words rushing together and coming out between drunken hiccups. “I had a fun time.” Vance smiled teasingly.

  “I’m sure you did,” he asserted. “Just wait here while I put the chairs up and lock the cash box. Drink some water.” He nudged the glass closer and she finally took it and began to sip at it a little. Nina was swaying gently in her seat like she was at sea, never ceasing moving.

  “I’m gonna call a cab,” she said, taking out her phone and staring at it intently as if she were trying to figure out how it worked.

  “No, you’re not,” Vance corrected as he finished up the bar chores. She looked at him confusedly.

  “I’m not?”

  “We’re going to the same place; I’ll just drive you,” he insisted. Nina frowned deeply and shook her head.

  “Adam won’t like that,” she warned.

  “Why not?” She simply shook her head again, refusing to answer in any further detail, so he sighed. “Then how about we just don’t tell him? I’m thinking you won’t remember, anyway.”

  She fiddled with her hands for a moment, wringing them together clumsily.

  “Adam’s jealous of you,” she blurted. “Cause you saved me. And you’re hot. Thinks I’m’a leave him for you.” Vance raised an eyebrow.

  “He said that?”

  “No,” she admitted, “but I know he feels it, ‘cause I know him.”

  She looked around for a moment before leaning in close to him to whisper as he wiped down the countertop, so close that he could smell the citrus scent of margaritas on her breath.

  “He’s the jealous type,” she whispered, and Vance laughed.

  “Well, you need to get home, and he left you alone on your date night without the car. Maybe he deserves to be a little jealous tonight.” That plan seemed to delight her, as she nodded, giggling excitedly as he went around to the staff room to grab his stuff. He hadn’t brought much to work—mostly just the motorcycle gear that he’d taken off when he’d arrived, and so it was only a moment before he reappeared with his leather jacket in one hand and his helmet in the other, both of which he handed to Nina. She simply held them, looking at him expectantly, and he smirked.

  “Well, put them on,” he coaxed. She shook her head.

  “We’re going on your motorcycle?” she asked nervously, and he nodded slowly.

  “I mean, that’s how I got here,” he explained, “so yeah.”

  Her eyes went wide with what looked like fear, though he couldn’t imagine why she looked so terrified.

  “Come on, Nina,” he taunted lightly, “it’s not that scary. They’re not so dangerous.”

  “They are,” she insisted, and he shrugged.

  “Alright, fine; maybe they are. But we’re only going down the street. I’ll take it slow, I promise.” Nina looked torn for a moment, but finally shrugged into the jacket, fumbling a bit with the zipper with her drunk and clumsy hands. Vance restrained himself from sighing as he reached out and zipped it for her, then took the helmet from her hands and put it onto her head.

  “Ready to go?” he asked, and she nodded.

  Chapter 5: Nina

  The air outside the bar was cold, but Nina was intoxicated enough that she’d been sweating a little inside, anyway, so it felt almost refreshing on her overheated skin. Vance’s jacket was big on her, comically so, but she had to admit that it was warm and much more comfortable than she’d expected it to be. The leather was worn where she’d anticipated it being stiff and hard, and smelled like ash and fresh air. Her father had owned a jacket like this one, though he’d never really worn it, so it had never been broken in, leaving it difficult to bend and uncomfortable to wear.

  Part of her wanted to tell Vance the real reason that being on the back of his bike made her so nervous, but when he’d looked at her with those dark brown eyes that never betrayed any emotions and had given her that confident, cocky smirk, she’d found herself tongue tied. While Adam might not have a big problem with her hitching a ride with Vance because they were, indeed, going to the same place and she was drunk and without a car, he’d most certainly take issue with the fact that she was blushing and stuttering just looking at him. She tried to blame the alcohol, the exhaustion, the fight that she’d had with Adam, but she knew that the butterflies in her stomach weren’t from any of those things: they were because Vance was something special.

  Growing up in a small town and with a protective father, she’d never really dated much. She’d had a high school sweetheart, sure, and that had been nice. Once she’d left for Portland, she’d had a few more boyfriends, most of them just boys from her classes that she studied with or guys from her part-time job. She’d met Adam early on and she’d been with him ever since, but even at the time, she knew that she was with him because he was exactly her type: smart, hard-working, sensible. When he went out to party, he never got too drunk and was always home at a reasonable hour so he didn’t have to miss work the next day. He treated her with respect, always asking her permission before kissing her and making sure that she was ready for every step they took. It was nice, and she knew that he did it because he cared about her. It had even been what she’d needed, at least back then, as a 20-year-old kid with no real dating experience.

  Now, however, it was sometimes just a little too much. She was never surprised by his passion or swept off her feet by a grand gesture. That just wasn’t the way he worked, she told herself; it wasn’t realistic to expect from someone. Adam would never do anything to surprise her, but that also meant that there would be no unwelcome surprises, too. She was trading spontaneity for safety.

  The rumble of Vance’s motorcycle underneath her as she clung to his back like her life depended on it was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. Nina knew that they were loud, but until she was on top of the thing, she hadn’t really known just how loud it could get. Even if she shouted at Vance as the engine revved, she doubted that he’d be able to hear her. It made her mind race: how would he be able to hear oncoming cars? What if she saw something on the road and needed him to swerve to avoid hitting it, as she’d done to Adam for deer so many times before?

  Vance, of course, didn’t look nervous at all. That was a given—not one moment since she’d met him had he looked anything but confident and sure of himself. It was almost infuriating to watch him be so cocky, particularly when h
e did things like flirt with her. He revved the engine a few times just to show off, evidenced by the fact that he looked over his shoulder grinning at her when he felt her tense up against him.

  “It’s not gonna bite,” he teased, but he didn’t rev the engine again. Nina was clinging to his back, though she felt secure on the seat, and even though she was holding on with all of her might, she was still terrified that she might fall off.

  “What happens if I let go?” she asked over the lull of the engine, and he laughed.

  “I wouldn’t recommend it,” he chuckled. Nina frowned.

  “Well, what happens if I fall?”

  He rolled his eyes. “You’re not going to,” he reassured with much more confidence than Nina felt. As if he knew that giving her just another moment to think about it would be enough time for her to change her mind, Vance kicked the kickstand up and began to roll through the parking lot slowly enough for Nina to adjust her grip accordingly but faster than she was immediately comfortable with. The nerves made her laugh, as nervousness often did for her, and she couldn’t bite back the giggle that floated up from her chest as he turned out of the parking lot and onto the street.

  There was only one highway that went through the town, and it was nearly always empty. Recession had put a lot of places this far south out of business, which meant that there were no attractions, which made it so that folks seldom used the highway anymore unless they were going to or from Mexico. The Oasis had been one of the only motels for miles to survive the recession, which only drove business up for her, but even being the only motel anywhere nearby wasn’t enough to make her a popular one. People tended to drive all night around these parts, and that meant that they were much more likely to pull into a gas station for another cup of coffee than they were a motel. However, for all the ill-feelings Nina had about the emptiness of the highway, right now, she was enjoying it. They were the only people on the road, which meant that they could go as slowly as she needed him to without having cars honking in complaint or risking being hit.

  “See?” Vance called over his shoulder, his voice nearly drowned out by the engine and the wind. “It’s not so bad.” She nodded. It was scary, but indeed, not as bad as she’d thought. As time went by and she felt a little less like she might fall off at any given moment, she began to feel the thrill. There was something unique about the way that the wind stung her face a little as they accelerated, the way she could feel the cold air against her skin but somehow didn’t feel chilled, the amount of pressure with which she had to lean against Vance just to stay balanced. After just a few minutes, she found that she craved more.

  “Faster,” she called, and Vance turned slightly to look at her.

  “What?”

  “I want to go faster,” she repeated. He didn’t ask her if she was sure—she must have looked as certain as she felt. With a mischievous grin, he obliged.

  “Hold on tight,” he warned, increasing their speed so suddenly that she felt a jolt of force pulling her backward and she had to interlock her arms around his torso to stay on the back of the bike. When she equilibrated with that speed, she allowed herself to pull away from his back a little and breathe in the cold night air, refreshing and freeing. This was everything she’d ever been warned against doing, the one thing that her father had made off limits to her. She leaned her head back to feel the wind on her face and laughed, partially a drunken giggle but mostly just sheer adrenaline and excitement. This, too, she knew, was something that Adam wouldn’t think was appropriate, and honestly, he’d probably be right. The feelings that she was having right now, the exhilaration, the thrill, the sheer desire for more—they threatened her feelings about Adam. Boring, plain, safe Adam. Maybe she’d wanted to admit it for a while to herself, but here, with only the road and the wind and her thoughts, she was willing to say it in her head: she wasn’t as happy as she once had been, as she’d thought that she would be by this stage of her life. She wanted something different, most days, and with someone like Adam, she knew that every day would be painfully the same as the last.

  The ride wasn’t long, since the motel was pretty close to the bar, and the two arrived back in the parking lot pretty quickly, especially when he started to speed down the road faster than Nina had ever felt she’d gone before. He stopped the bike outside the motel room that Nina always used when she slept here rather than his own and helped her to step down from the bike. Her cheeks were stinging and probably red from the wind, but she was smiling broadly.

  “So, I guess you liked it?” he asked expectantly, and Nina nodded.

  “It was amazing,” she gushed. “We were going so fast.” Vance laughed.

  “We weren’t going that fast,” he countered. “It just feels that way because of the air.”

  “The wind was so thrilling!” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “It felt like we were going a hundred miles an hour, and I wasn’t strapped in or anything; I was just holding on! I don’t do that kind of thing!”

  Vance raised an eyebrow. “What kind of thing?” he asked, and she shook her head.

  “Anything!” she exclaimed. “Dangerous things, or new things, or thrilling things. All I do is work. That’s it. But today… Today!”

  Vance steadied her as she wobbled on her heels, still apparently pretty drunk. “Alright, Nina,” he smirked, “maybe let’s get you into bed. Give me your keys.” He held out his hand for her to set her master key into them, but she didn’t want to give them to him. Instead, she sat back against the seat of the motorcycle, smiling shyly as she watched him look down at her. He was studying her face, possibly concerned about the fact that she hadn’t responded or confused about what this mood was that had come over her, but all she knew was that he was the hottest guy she’d ever seen and she wanted very much, with her guard down and an excuse to not bring it up to Adam the next morning, to kiss him.

  She reached up to touch his face, pressing her palm to the back of his neck and pulling him in for what was meant to be a chaste kiss, but which got out of hand quickly. In a flurry of fireworks and passion, suddenly his tongue was in her mouth, probably tasting all the alcohol she’d had over the course of the night. She felt his hand caress her cheek, pulling her in subtly. His kiss was rough, more forceful than any she’d ever had before. Before she’d even known it was happening, her fingers were entangled in his hair roughly, where they stayed for the whole, long moment that their parted lips were pressed together. When he pulled away, she was breathless and panting. She reached up bashfully and rubbed at a smudge of the small amount of lipstick that hadn’t come off over the course of her drinking to remove it, and she smiled. He didn’t smile back at her, simply continued to look at her intently with his piercing, fiery eyes, and she could tell without him even having to say anything that it had been as exhilarating for him as it had for her.

  “Do you want to come inside?” she asked, wishing that she regretted her words more than she could bring herself to. She knew that she should be pushing him away, but more than anything, she wanted him to accept her invitation so that she could regret it in the morning. To her dismay and benefit, he simply chuckled softly, his facial expression barely shifting, and touched her on the shoulder.

  “Goodnight, Nina,” he said simply. He unlocked her door for her and she went inside without another word, still wearing his coat, which he didn’t take back from her even as he shut the door. She didn’t want to bother with taking off her makeup, so she just brushed her teeth and took off her dress so she could slip under the covers, setting the jacket next to her on the other pillow and trying not to think about how embarrassed she felt as she drifted off to sleep.

  The next morning, Nina woke up with a raging headache and a very dry mouth. She groaned and pressed her palms to her eye sockets to alleviate some of the pain for a minute before she mustered the energy to stand up and drink some water straight from the tap. When she finally felt that she was a bit more hydrated, she decided that she needed to begin a quest for
a cup of coffee, so she picked up her dress from the night before. She took her phone from the nightstand and checked it, hoping to find a message from Adam that wasn’t there yet, but when she looked at the time, she relaxed a bit. It was still not even 7 in the morning—alcohol tended to mess up her sleep schedule and wake her up early without the ability to fall asleep again—and that Adam was probably sleeping.

  Though a lot of the night was fuzzy, she remembered the fight that they’d had with glaring clarity. He’d been called into work in the middle of their fight, and even though she’d known at the time that she didn’t want him to leave on the note that they’d left on, she hadn’t had the time or the words to say anything else. Her father had told her that the secret to a long-lasting marriage was to never go to bed angry, something he’d learned after two divorces, and she’d lived by those words, partially because she and Adam never really fought. It was rare for them to really talk about things that they disagreed about, and even when an argument cropped up, Adam usually told her that he didn’t want to talk about it and shut the whole conversation down before it could really begin. He didn’t like for her to get fired up and passionate about anything, really, good or bad. Sometimes, she really just wanted to argue with him, to fight, to get all hot and angry and tell him off so that they could have intense make up sex.

  As she gathered up everything she’d brought into the room and got ready to vacate and get some breakfast, Nina noticed something as she went to make the bed. Vance’s black leather jacket, which she remembered having worn at some point for some reason, was resting on the pillow next to hers. Nina picked it up and began to examine it. It was pretty plain for the most part, with no real identifying markers except for one circular white patch on the back, and worn from what looked like years of wear. Memories began to float back to her, dull and sluggish, never really becoming clear in her mind. She’d had a few shots; Vance had driven her home on his motorcycle… and the kiss. She remembered them making out in the parking lot just before she’d gone to bed. Vance had kissed her.