Saint's Angel: Mc Standalone

by K. L Humphreys

  I sit up and look around the room. It’s dark, and there’s not much to identify whose room this is. There are no pictures on the walls or on the nightstand. The room isn’t very big, holding a wardrobe, a chest of drawers, a nightstand, a chair, and this double bed. Every piece of furniture is a deep mahogany that adds to the darkness.

  My mind immediately goes back to the man who put himself between me and everyone else. The man that made my heart pound faster, and not because of fear but something I couldn’t comprehend. He should have scared me. There’s bad boy written all over him. From the sullen looks to the pissed off vibes, he should have made me want to run just like all the other men had made me want to, but I didn’t. I wanted to be closer to him. He protected me, and for that I’m so grateful. When I wrapped my arms around him, for that split second, I felt so safe, like nothing would ever harm me.

  I can’t believe this is where my dad is. He’s been so close for so long, and I never even knew. I haven’t told him about Gigi. I know I need to, but I’m not even sure how to begin. How do I tell him that I’ve left her there, that she’s dead and alone? I hate that I left her there.

  Shaking my head, I rid the thoughts, not wanting to cry anymore. God, it took me ages to go to sleep. As soon as Dad left the room and the doctor went, I cried myself to sleep. I’m tired, but there’s no way I can go back to sleep now, with the remnants of my dream still hanging over me. I need to get some air, or at least get out of this room.

  Getting out of bed, I walk over to the door. My hand tentatively reaches for the handle. I have no idea what the time is; are all the men going to be outside? I’m not sure if I’ll be able to deal with them right now.

  Opening the door, I’m shocked to find the man that kept me safe outside. He must have been sitting on the floor because he jumps to his feet within seconds of the door opening.

  “Hi,” I whisper, unsure of what to say.

  “You okay?” His deep voice makes me shiver.

  I nod. “I just need some air.”

  His brown eyes deepen, so much so that they’re almost black. “Come on.” His voice is weird, and I’m wondering if I cried out whilst I was dreaming.

  I stand against the door, feeling a little awkward. I have no idea what his name is. “I’d like a glass of water, please.” My mouth is so dry, my tongue darts out and swipes my bottom lip.

  His gaze follows my tongue, and he narrows his eyes before quickly straightening. He nods for me to follow him downstairs, and I do, not sure where we’re going.

  “West, come back to bed.” The purr of a woman’s voice gets my attention. I peer past my protector and see a woman wearing a tight dress, her blonde hair straight and falling down her back. She’s gorgeous.

  “Shut up, Callie,” a gruff voice calls out, and I see it’s one of the men that surrounded me when I crashed. He has a scruffy beard. His head turns to us and his eyes narrow. He was mad when Dad and I hugged. I don’t know why, but I think he doesn’t like me. I quickly move so that I’m hidden behind my protector’s back.

  “West,” my protector grunts.

  “Fucking too early for this shit, Saint.”

  My cheeks flame. I definitely shouted out while I was dreaming. I feel bad for waking them up.

  Saint… that’s his name? I hear a low growl coming from him.

  The woman laughs and it’s as though bells are ringing. “He’s been like this all night.”

  Saint shakes his head. “Brother?”

  “Why is she hiding behind you?” The confusion is clear to hear, as is the anger.

  “You’re growling at the poor girl,” Callie tells him. She moves so that she’s in my line of sight. “I’m Callie.” She smiles at me, and it looks genuine.

  I walk toward her, holding out my hand. “Harla. It’s nice to meet you.”

  Her eyes light up. “Oh, sugar, the pleasure is all mine. Did you get introduced to the men yet?”

  I shake my head as I glance at Saint and West, their eyes on me.

  She throws her arms around my shoulders, pulling me into her body. “Well, Harla, this here is Saint. He doesn't talk much, growls like a lion and hangs in the shadows most of the time, so don’t take it personal. ” She points at the man that protected me.

  She carries on, “This asshole is West. He’s the vice president, though he can be charming when he wants.”

  “Um, hey,” I say, not knowing what he’s the vice president of, but whatever it is, he must be important.

  “So, you’re the president's daughter?”

  “Callie, shut it,” West growls. “Enough,” he reiterates, his eyes narrowed at her.

  I watch as she visibly bites back whatever she was going to say. Shaking her head, she turns to me. “Told you—asshole. Are you staying here? We should hang out.”

  I bite my lip, unsure of what to say. “I actually have no idea what’s going on.”

  She pulls me closer to her. “You’re going to be okay.”

  “She’s right, Harla, you are safe,” West tells me. He seems to have softened to me, which I’m grateful for. He’s got kind eyes. They’re olive, like Gigi’s.

  “Do you know if my dad’s awake? I need to talk to him.” I need to tell him about Gigi.

  “I’m going to get you some clothes,” Callie tells me. “You can’t walk around in those bloody ones. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She flashes me a quick smile before turning to look at West. She gives him a weird look, one that has him rolling his eyes, before walking away.

  “Talk to us?” Saint asks, walking over to the fridge.

  I glance around the kitchen. It’s an off-whitish color, with a fridge, a freezer, a stove, and a huge table and chairs, along with an island and a few stools. The walls are bare, no pictures hung up, making the room look very unhomely.

  “I just need to speak to Dad.” I try and keep my voice even, not wanting to cry nor seem ungrateful. He’s been so nice to me.

  He opens the fridge and hands me a bottle of water. He remembered I wanted a drink.

  “I’m here, baby girl,” Dad says, walking into the room. He looks the same as he always does, his beard grey like his hair. He has frown lines on his head and smile lines around his mouth.

  I shake my head. “You have to go and get Gigi. I left her there, Daddy.” Tears threaten to fall, and I will them back. Now isn’t the time to break again. I need to tell Dad what happened.

  Dad’s eyes flash with anger. He comes to stand beside West. Looking at them, I see so many similarities: the olive eyes, so much like Gigi’s; the way they stand, their jawlines. Everything about them is identical.

  “You’re my brother,” I whisper in disbelief.

  West shakes his head as he glares at Dad. “At least I wasn’t the only one not to know.”

  The smile I have is tight. “This is so freaking cool.” I always wanted a sibling, but not like this. I’m angry, but it’s not West’s fault. He had no idea either. Why would Dad have kept us separate?

  West smiles. He reminds me so much of Dad. “You’re such a girl.”

  I stare at him in horror. Automatically, my hands go to my hips and I glare at him. “I am not!” I’m outraged. How dare he?

  Dad lets out a full belly laugh. “You two haven’t changed.”

  West’s face changes; gone is the happiness, instead, he’s full of rage. “You wanted to tell us something?”

  I cross my arms over my chest. “I left Gigi, and she told me I had to come here. I left her there.”

  “What happened?” Dad questions, taking a seat at the table, West and Saint following suit. West pulls out another chair and nods for me to sit down.

  I take a seat and place the water bottle on the table. “Gigi and I were in the kitchen when we heard the rumble of bikes. Gigi’s face changed. She gave me a gun and told me to hide.” I swallow back the fear and guilt as I look away from the men staring at me.

  “Two men came in, and she fired at them.” I smile. “She hit them both,
but one got her.” I shake my head. “She was bleeding so much,” I whisper. “She told me I had to leave, that I had to come here.”

  “Harla.” Dad’s voice is hard, unlike anything I’ve ever heard before. “Baby girl, look at me,” he demands, and I do as he says. “This isn’t your fault. You did exactly as she asked. You know damn well that both Gigi and I would have been pissed had you ignored her.”

  I nod. “I know that, but I left her there. She’s dead on the kitchen floor.” I can’t contain the tears anymore, and they fall silently.

  “Harla, how did you get shot?” Dad asks, ignoring what I’ve just said.

  “When I was leaving, the man that Gigi shot was outside. He was still alive. He heard the car and started shooting.”

  Dad shakes his head. “Is he still alive?”

  I look away, unable to see his face when I tell him, “No, I don’t think so. I ran him over as I drove away.”

  “Atta girl,” I hear West murmur, and I turn to glare at him, but he just smirks at me.

  “Do you know who they were?” Dad asks.

  “I don’t. I never saw them before. The guy I ran over had a phoenix tattoo on his neck.”

  “Fuck!” Dad roars, his hand thumping down onto the table, making it vibrate under the force. “We ride,” he tells them, and both West and Saint are on their feet. “Tell the brothers we leave in ten.”

  I gape at them. What? “Dad?” I’m so confused. Does he know who they were? Where are they riding to?

  “Harla, I’m going to get Gigi.”

  I get to my feet. “I’m coming too.”

  His eyes slice to me. “No, you’re staying here. You’re going back to bed to rest.”

  “Da—”

  “No. I heard you, baby girl. You fucking screamed as if someone was killing you. You’re staying here.” His eyes soften as they glance down at the wound on my shoulder.

  My resolve wains. “Fine. Can you bring me some of my things?”

  He walks over to me and pulls me into his arms, his lips going to my forehead. “Yeah. I’m glad you’re safe, Harla.”

  My hands tighten around his waist. “Love you, Daddy.”

  “Love you too, baby girl.”

  He pulls away, and I instantly feel the loss. As Dad leaves the kitchen, Callie returns, her arms filled with clothes.

  “You okay, Harla?” she asks with a furrow in her brow.

  “Yeah.” I give her my best fake smile.

  She sees straight through it. “No, you’re not, but you will be.”

  “Harla.” I hear my name being called and look up, seeing both West and Saint standing in the doorway. “You’ll be safe here. I promise.”

  I nod, knowing I will be. Gigi and Dad wouldn’t have wanted me to come here if I wasn’t. I’m just scared. I’ve never been here before, nor been around this many men before.

  “Callie.” West’s voice is deep as he nods for her to follow him.

  “Stick with Callie,” Saint says gruffly, coming to stand in front of me. “The bitches here are just that… Fucking bitches. You’re too pure for them, Angel. They’ve got claws.”

  I nod. “I’ll stay with Callie.”

  Relief flashes in his eyes, but as quick as it comes it vanishes again. His fingers reach out for my face. I should pull away, but I don’t. Instead, I lean into his touch.

  “Fuck.” It’s a guttural sound.

  “Saint,” I whisper, and his eyes shutter closed as if he’s in pain.

  “I’m not a good man, Angel. You deserve better than a bastard like me. Fuck, you deserve everything.”

  Is he warning me off him?

  My tongue darts out and wets my lips. “What if I want you?” I have no idea where the hell that came from. I’ve never been so brazen, but this man has me wanting things I’ve never wanted before.

  “You’re playing with fire, Angel. You’ll only get burned.” His thumb swipes my bottom lip before he turns and walks away. His touch stays on my skin. I feel him even though he’s gone.

  “Damn, sugar, that was hot!” Callie hoots, coming back into the kitchen. “I’ve never seen that man so—”

  “Callie!” West shouts. She smirks as she brings her finger to her mouth.

  Shaking his head, he turns to me. “See you in a while.” He glares at Callie before leaving.

  “Come on, let’s get you out of those clothes and into the shower,” Callie says, linking her arm through mine and leading me out of the kitchen.

  My gaze is on Saint as we walk past him and the other men, each one of them wearing leather. They’re different shapes and sizes, some older, some younger. One thing they all have in common is that they have an air of danger around them. They look as though they’d kill you with one look.

  4

  Saint

  I’m not sure what makes me turn, but when I do, I catch Angel’s eyes roll into her skull, her face pale as she rocks. A piercing scream erupts from Callie, but she manages to catch Angel before she faceplants on the floor

  “I don’t know what happened!” Callie’s frantic.

  I’m across the room within three strides, snatching Harla from her arms with a growl.

  “I’m warning you, brother. You look at Callie like that one more time, and I’m putting you fucking down.” A lesser man would flinch at that deep, demanding tone. It’s Prez. I don’t care. Callie was meant to be looking after her. We haven’t even left the fucking club and Angel has passed out.

  “Saint?” My eyes hit hers, and I see the pink tint is coming back to her cheeks.

  My hand trembles as I move a piece of hair off her face. I don’t even glance up to see who’s watching. “You scared us.” My tone has a bite to it.

  “I didn’t think anything scared you,” she says softly.

  She’s fucking right. Ask anyone here and they’d confirm that I don’t get scared. I’ve got nothing to lose. I’m not going to hell because I am fucking hell. I’m the motherfucking devil incarnate. Yet, this five-foot-four angel somehow soothes the rage inside of me. She makes that lump in the middle of my chest beat like some fucker has just jump started it.

  I lean my head close to hers, burying my face in her neck, inhaling her. The faint smell of coconut, along with berries, smells good.

  “Me asustaste, mi ángel,” I whisper so only she can hear. Her fingers grip my arm, and she squeezes in response as a small gasp escapes her.

  “You stopped growling now?” West’s voice pulls me back to reality. “So Doc can get to her.”

  I nod, her fingers gently tickling my beard. I fucking can’t let her go. I just physically can’t bring myself to do it.

  “Estoy bien, gracias,” she reassures me with a small smile, telling me she’s okay.

  I stare at her in shock. She speaks Spanish. Fuck, she’s just let me know that she understood what I told her, that she scares me. My lips twitch, something they only seem to do whenever she’s around me. I don’t miss the way every pair of eyes in the room are on me. The only reason I don’t move is the look in Angel’s. The way her breath hitches, along with her eyes darkening from icy blue to teal.

  Everything inside of me screams to claim her, to make her mine. I glance over her once more before standing, holding onto her the entire time, making sure that I’m supporting her weight, just in case she gets unsteady again. My fingers dig into her hips on reflex before I look toward Doc, a clear threat in my eyes.

  He nods, taking a steady step toward us, hands up in surrender. “You need to move your arm, Saint.” The bastard smirks. The thought of him touching her makes my grip tighten.

  “Saint.” There’s a warning in West’s tone. I need to back the fuck away.

  I tighten my hold slightly before letting go.

  Prez glares at me, just as he would our enemies. “Church.” He continues to stare me down. “That includes you, boy.”

  My whole body tenses, every muscle locking. A small hand lands on my back. I turn my head to meet her gaze. “Go, I�
�m fine.”

  I grab her chin between my fingers, tilting her face upwards. “You passed out,” I grit out. “You ain’t fine, Angel. No fucker just passes out because they’re o-fucking-kay.”

  A small line appears between her brows as her lips pull into a tight line. “I must have overdone it. I mean, it's a lot to take in! First, men break into my house and shoot Gigi. I left her there.” Her voice cracks but she doesn’t cry. Instead, she shakes her head and continues, “Then I find out that my father is the head of this place. He’s lied to me not once but twice, because I also found out I have a brother.” She sighs. “I was overwhelmed. Give a girl a break, okay?”

  Callie has a proud smirk on her face. I, on the other hand, snort. I fucking heard her screams last night.

  Her eyes flash with rage. “Don’t! Don’t treat me as if I’m made of glass! I am not going to fall to pieces.”

  Is she serious? Most women I know would have cried a fucking river, totally fucking lost it. “You’re one of the strongest bitches I know.”

  Her eyes narrow. “I’m not a bitch.” Her eyebrows rise, but I see the humor laced in her eyes. My lips twitch again, this time showing my teeth.

  Callie moves so that she’s next to Harla, wrapping her arm around her. “I promise she won't move, okay. I will keep her ass on this seat.” Her voice is full of conviction.

  Doc checks over her wounds for infection and shakes his head. “Nothing different from last night. Like the lass said, a lot has happened in the last thirty hours.” He grins at Angel, like a proud dad, his Irish accent coming out. “Most women would be bitching but this one’s made of strong stuff.”

  I nod because I already know she’s tough. Every step I take away from her feels as though someone is pulling my heart out of my chest. I stop in front of Callie.

  “You’ll take good care of her,” I instruct, every word laced with danger. It’s a threat.

  Callie’s gaze flicks toward West, before she nods, the tension dropping from her shoulders. “I know we haven’t spoken a lot, but you know you can trust me. Don’t you?”

  I watch her eyes for anything but the truth. When I don’t see anything deceitful, I nod.