Saving Glory (Hells Saints Motorcycle Club Book 4)

by Paula Marinaro

  Glory rummaged in the closet and under the bed. Recalling every mystery book she had ever read, she lifted the mattress and looked under it too. Finally, fifty minutes into the search she had to admit defeat. With a heavy sigh, she plopped down on her brother’s bed and felt the tears begin to run down the sides of her face.

  The stress was beginning to get to her.

  She wasn’t sleeping well and she had a constant headache. The ball of nerves in her stomach made eating impossible. She just wished the Santino would call so she could deal with whatever menace he was here to deliver.

  Glory lay on Hal’s bed staring at the ceiling. The memories that she had fought to keep at bay all these years kept coming back to her in flashes—the two cups of coffee and handful of Xenedrines she would need to get through her shifts.

  Her body naked, shaved and oiled in its spray-tanned skin.

  The mouth that she reddened, moistened and plumped in order to display the requisite coy smile—lips parted, eyes hooded.

  A drink or two to loosen up.

  Change of costume—feathers, sequins, spandex.

  Turn, bend over, shake your ass, shimmy your tits, toss your hair.

  Smile like you mean it, laugh like it’s funny.

  Rinse. Repeat.

  With a heavy sigh. Glory pushed away the dark memories, angling her head to wipe away her tears. When she did, her eye caught what looked like fingerprints on one of the ceiling tiles. She squinted and shook her head slightly but the image did not fade. Not only were the fingerprints definitely there, but as she continued to stare at the smudged discoloration, it appeared that one corner of the tile was slightly askew.

  As if someone had pushed it up and it had not quite settled back in place.

  Glory scampered off the bed and dragged a chair to that corner of the room. Standing on tippy toes she thanked her morning yoga routine as she stretched to jolt the tile out of place. When her searching hand hit rough canvas, she almost wept in relief.

  With sweating hands she hefted the bag over to the bed and unfastened the snap that held the straps together. When a sudden strong breeze forced itself through the open window as if in warning, it sent a trail of goose bumps up and down her neck.

  Glory steadied her hand and began to slowly open the duffle bag. There, sitting inside the small bag, sat a pistol, some sort of long metal attachment, a serrated buck knife, a throwaway cell with a power pack, and a small roll of cash.

  Glory hefted the smooth steel of the gun in her palms. She turned the gun over and over. To her consternation, she realized that this was an automatic weapon.

  A revolver she could have handled.

  A basic—load the gun, spin the barrel—type of thing. She had seen it on TV a million times.

  But this gun looked like one continuous piece of metal. She had no idea if it were loaded or not. Or how to unlatch the safety—if that thing on there even was the safety….

  With a mournful sigh Glory threw herself back on the bed, face down and let out a long scream of frustration into the mattress.

  Chapter 19

  Ten minutes later and well into a full out pity party, Glory almost fell off the bed as the house shook with the explosive sound of someone pounding at the door.

  Shit.

  Now what?

  Her nerves were already strung to the point of breaking. The last thing Glory needed was an unexpected damn visitor. Maybe if she just ignored them they would go away. She had barely time to finish the thought before the loud pounding resumed.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  When an unintelligible shout accompanied yet another round of heavy-fisted knocking, Glory shot off the bed. With shaking hands, she quickly and carefully placed the gun in the bag. Then she hurried to return the duffle to its hiding place.

  After wiping her sweaty palms on her shirt, she gave Hal’s room another quick scan to make sure everything was back in place. Then she hurried to the kitchen before whoever was banging put an impatient fist through the glass. Glory rounded the corner and approached the door with a mixture of fear and trepidation. Considering the events of the past days—she figured she could probably expect the worst to be waiting for her on the threshold. She pulled back the curtain and peered through the opaque window glass.

  While the outline of his wide shoulders was barely visible, she would know that large hulking form anywhere.

  Jules. Thank God.

  Glory knew that seeing him standing in her doorway shouldn’t fill her with relief. She knew she shouldn’t want him to ride in like some medieval knight on a white horse and free her from all the secrets and pain of her past.

  But she did want all those things.

  She really, really did.

  *****

  “Everything all right?” Jules looked at her with concerned exasperation. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Sorry. I was doing laundry and I didn’t hear you,” she lied.

  Jules nodded with a frown as his eyes took a quick sweep around the room. “So why’d you lock the door?”

  She made her eyes wide in feigned confusion. “The door was locked? You sure?”

  “Yeah, Glory, been banging for five minutes. I’m fucking sure.” He narrowed his eyes at her.

  Glory looked around the room frantic for inspiration, when her eyes settled on the still full wash bucket she sighed with relief. “Oh, yeah. I was washing the floor earlier and I didn’t want Hal to come in and slip on the wet tiles.” Eager to change the subject, she added, “He’s gone for a ride, I didn’t think you guys were working out today.”

  “We’re not,” Jules surprised her by saying. Then he easily lifted the water bucket from the floor and emptied the contents into the sink for her.

  “Since when did you start washing floors?” he teased her.

  “I happen to be very good at cleaning.” Glory put her hands on her hip and lifted her nose at him.

  “That’s good to know, baby. Because later on, you might wanna take a swipe at this counter.” Jules’s big hands spanned her trim waist to lift her up on the granite, then he wedged himself between her thighs. Before she could protest, he gave her a long, possessive kiss. She caught her breath and stopped him before he could begin another. “Not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing here?”

  He grinned at her and began to unbutton her shirt. “I’m saying goodbye.”

  “Goodbye?” She felt a surge of unwelcome panic fill her. “What do you mean by goodbye?”

  When Jules ignored the question and continued to undress her, Glory slapped his hand away.

  “Stop that and tell me what’s going on.” She began to button up her shirt with tense fingers. The last thing she needed was Jules playing with her emotions right now.

  For every button she buttoned, he unbuttoned one.

  “This isn’t funny,” she said, suddenly on the verge of tears.

  Goodbye.

  At the tone of her voice and the look on her face, Jules lost his playful smile.

  “Just a road trip, honey.” Jules’s tone was tender.

  “Where?” Glory winced as even she heard the insecurity ring out from her voice.

  He arched an eyebrow at her. “What’s going on, Glory?”

  “It’s just that Hal really depends on you being here to spot him.” She tried and failed to keep the misery out of her voice.

  Goodbye.

  “So you think Hal might miss having me around?” Jules said with a gentle smile. “You think maybe you might miss me a little bit too?”

  Glory could only nod.

  Jules pulled her close and kissed the top of her forehead.

  “I’ll be back before you know it. And your brother’s doing great, this worrying shit—you gotta ease up, honey.”

  “Yeah, I know. You’re right,” Glory agreed, wishing she could ease up on the worrying shit.

  “And besides, he’s coming with,” Jules told her.

  “Who’s coming with?” Glory’s eyes narrowed
slightly because Jules couldn’t possibly mean what she thought he meant.

  “Hal is, babe.” Jules caressed the sensitive spot on her neck with the back of his hand. “He’s gonna be driving the van down for the club later on this afternoon. With a long run like this we usually take the van with us just in case of break downs and shit. Weather’s been so nice after all that fucking wind and rain last week, brothers are all looking forward to taking their bikes down to Fallsview. Hal volunteered to drive the service van down. We don’t usually let a non-member do that, but Prosper okayed it and everyone is just grateful they don’t have to drive the cage,” Jules told her.

  While a myriad of concerns ran through Glory’s mind of what Hal getting closer to the club could mean, today she had bigger fish to fry. She turned her attention back to what Jules was telling her.

  “Why are you going so far away? And when will you be back?” Glory asked.

  “We’re only gonna be gone a few days and it’s not that far. Crow’s made the decision to officially patch over to the Fallsview chapter. It’s really just a bullshit reason for a party, seeing as he has been with that crew for a while now. Reno, Gunner, Riker and a couple of other guys are heading up too,” Jules told her.

  Glory nodded thinking this was both the best and worst time for Jules to be gone. It would make it easier for her not to worry about him finding out about her meeting with Santino, but the thought of him being a couple of states away if she needed him….

  “It’s important to Crow, honey,” Jules explained as if in apology.

  “Raine told me he had a wife and a couple of boys now right?” Glory forced herself to focus.

  “Yeah.” Jules grinned and scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Melissa is his wife’s name. You’d like her. Pretty, smart, good sense of humor. Doesn’t let Crow get away with shit. And he’s got two boys. Jett is his stepson, and the baby’s name is Raven. Looks like a mini Crow. Has all this dark hair and shit. Same green eyes as his daddy. Jury heads up the Fallsview chapter. In my opinion, he’s a crazy fuck, but he runs a tight club. It’s only about 60 miles or so from where Crow lives, so it makes sense he’d make it his home chapter, but I gotta tell you, I miss the brother.” Jules let a lock of Glory’s hair run through his fingers as he spoke to her.

  “I always liked Crow. It’s good to know he’s happy and settled. Tell him I said hello.” Glory thought to herself that Melissa must be something, because she had thought that he would never get over Raine. Nice to know he had.

  She just wished Fallsview wasn’t so far away and that Jules wasn’t leaving her. Because the truth was, no matter how badass and capable she had proven herself to be over the years, Glory was getting really tired of the “danger around every corner" bullshit. She seriously questioned whether or not she had the strength to survive another round of it. Feeling that, she fought back the tears and the almost irresistible urge to jump on Jules, wrap her arms and legs around him and beg him to stay.

  “So you’ll be gone—” Glory swallowed around the lump in her throat. “What? A couple of days?”

  “More like a few days.” Jules eyed her speculatively and asked again. “What’s going on, Glory?”

  “I’m just going to miss you, that’s all.”

  Oh yeah, and by the way, I am in seriously deep shit with a sadistic monster from the West Coast mob.

  Then yet another worry took hold and a flash of pain throbbed in her temple as she thought of Hal going with.

  I just hope that Hal is up to this.” She shook her head slightly.

  “Plenty of booze and pussy—Hal’s gonna have a fucking blast.” Jules grinned at her.

  “That’s not funny. He doesn’t do well in crowds, Jules,” Glory pressed. Why the not add the fear of a PTSD episode to the mix of her concerns.

  “Band of brothers and shit. I think he’s missed that. It’ll be good for him. Plus, Crow’s place is close by. Things get too much, he can always crash there. It’s all good,” Jules reassured her. Then he added for extra measure, “I’ll keep my eye on him, babe. Really it’ll be good for him.”

  Glory let out a long sigh and repeated, “I’m gonna miss you.”

  “I’m gonna miss you, too.” Jules drew her close to him.

  Then he took Glory by the hand and led her to the bedroom to show her just how much.

  Chapter 20

  Her phone began buzzing on the table just as Jules’s bike roared down the driveway and towards the road. Glory approached it as if it were a ticking bomb or a rattling snake. Santino’s name came blazing across the screen. Glory ran to the window and sighed as she saw that Jules had disappeared from sight.

  As if Santino knew.

  *****

  The next afternoon, Glory entered the lobby of the High gate Hotel and gave her name to the maître d′ as she had been instructed to.

  As he led her to the private table that Santino had reserved, her ankles wobbled slightly, unaccustomed to the height of the heels on her dress pumps. With sweating palms she ran her hands down the short skirt of the light blue linen sheath. Her hair was pulled back in a smooth ponytail, and she had taken time with her makeup. She knew that Santino would expect her to look her best. And although she thought about meeting him in flip-flops, a U2 T-shirt and ragged jeans, she figured it was no use pissing him off before she had to.

  Santino got out of his seat and stood at the table as he watched Glory walk towards him. When she drew near he lifted the starched cuff of his pristine white shirt and consulted the Submariner Rolex that circled his wrist. Then he bared his perfect teeth in a predatory smile and said, “Just in time. Shall we sit?”

  In a false show of gallantry, he pulled out the chair and seated Glory before he took the chair opposite her.

  With a slight wave of Santino’s finger, a waiter suddenly appeared tableside. He filled their glasses with wine, and put a small offering of thin strips of prosciutto, an assortment of hard cheeses, and delicate crackers on the table. The sight of the food turned Glory’s stomach, but she needed a drink to calm her nerves. When she reached for the glass and drained it clean of the full bodied chardonnay, Santino smiled indulgently and motioned to the waiter. When the server rushed back over to fill her glass again, Glory put her hand over the rim in a stop motion. Because while she needed a healthy shot of bottled courage, she also knew she needed a clear head to deal with whatever the devil incarnate seated opposite her planned to dish out.

  “You look good, Glory.” Santino gave her body a long slow sweep. “You always were a beautiful woman.”

  And you were always a misogynist, sadistic, opportunistic bastard.

  “Why are you here, Santo?” She used the nickname she knew his father had used when he was dissatisfied with him. A small show of disrespect that Santino would probably make her pay for at some point, but she just couldn’t help herself.

  “Ah, quick and to the point. I have always liked that about you,” he said smoothly, but Glory did not miss the glint of suppressed outrage in his eyes.

  “You have always hated that about me.” Her response was venomous.

  “True.” He chuckled. “I like my women to be a little more—eager to please.” His eyes lingered on her breasts, then honed in on her mouth. “But for you I have always been willing to make an exception.”

  Glory felt dirty where his eyes touched her and she could not stop the shiver of revulsion that surged through her body.

  “Santo—either tell me why you’re here, or I’m leaving.” Glory reached for the purse she had left sitting on the table and began to pull back her chair.

  At the backward scrape of her seat, the waiter who had been standing ever vigilant in the far corner of the room began to move uncertainly towards them.

  Santino’s hand shot out and clamped down hard on Glory’s wrist. Then, never losing the smile on his face, he ran a light finger along her pinky and began to slowly bend it back to just under the breaking point. Glory sat rigid in her seat, one small move from h
er would see her finger snapped in half. Pain shot through her arm and her eyes lit with tears.

  “Santino—” She gasped in pain.

  “You get up now and you’ll be dead before you get to the door. Do you understand?” He smiled through clenched teeth

  Glory nodded. When he released his grip, she almost fainted with relief.

  “May I get you something, Miss?” The waiter suddenly stood by the table.

  A gun would be nice.

  “A glass of water for the lady, please,” Santino answered for her.

  Glory resisted the urge to hold onto the waiter’s pant leg and beg him to stay. After he put the crystal goblet tinkling with ice cubes on the table, she watched him walk away with dread in her heart. She brought the water to her lips with shaking hands.

  “My associates are concerned that you are going to be difficult. You’re not going to be difficult, are you, Glory?”

  With effort, Glory stopped herself from plunging her throbbing finger into the icy water.

  “No,” she managed to squeak out.

  “Ah.” He gave a satisfied nod. “That’s what I told them. A woman who has done what you have done for her brother would not sacrifice his life by some sense of misguided loyalty.”

  Glory tried to clear her way through the pain and the fear and make sense of what Santino was saying.

  “I don’t understand. What does Hal have to do with this?” she asked. “And misguided loyalty to who?”

  When Santino leaned towards her Glory snatched her hands into the safety of her lap. A small chuckle rose from his throat, his eyes gleamed with satisfaction at the small sign of fear.

  “Hal killed Vincenzo, Glory.” He watched her carefully.

  “Your father? That’s impossible.” Glory felt her heart leap in her chest. Santino flashed her a sudden menacing smile, shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “Yet it’s true. Gino’s death—you do remember Gino, don’t you?”