“I just lost it.”
She smiles. “Thanks. It means a lot.”
The door closes and my body tenses. I instantly know who it is. Every night is the same: as soon as everyone goes to bed, he sneaks into my bedroom. Each and every time he does it, I tell myself that tomorrow will be different, tomorrow will be the day I tell him I don’t want to be his dirty little secret. Yet, I can’t find it in me to do so.
I know why I’m reluctant—I love him. I’m stupid, it’s that plain and simple. I shouldn’t love him, but I can’t stop myself. It hurts knowing he doesn’t feel the same way about me.
He moves around the bedroom as silently as he can, but I'm so in tune with him that everything he does is heightened. His musky aftershave fills my nostrils as he moves closer to me. The sheets fall down slightly and the bed dips beneath me as he slides in behind me. His arm goes under my head, as it always does, and he pulls me into his body.
His warmth surrounds me. "I know you're awake, girl," he murmurs.
"Hmm," I reply softly, not opening my eyes.
"Got to remember not to piss you off." There's humor in his voice. Leaning back in his arms, I open my eyes and look at him. His lips twitch. "You’ve got a decent right hook."
I fight back the smirk. "Best remember that."
He doesn't hide his smile. "What did she say to piss you off?"
I shrug, not wanting to get into it. I still can't believe that she actually stooped that low. Callie was raped—she didn't willingly have sex with Jimmy—and for her to use that against Callie was lower than low.
"Angel?" he questions.
I sigh. He's not going to let this go. "Callie told her she was jealous, that we have the brothers’ respect while Diamond can only get a brother to look at her when she's on her knees with their cock in her mouth." Even as I'm saying the words, I can't hide my smile.
Saint's eyes are dancing with laughter, but he keeps a straight face. "So what did that bitch say?"
"She said that she doesn’t spread her legs for a Phoenix."
Every single feature on his face darkens. I never thought that would be possible, but the narrowed eyes and clenched jaw tell me otherwise. "She deserved the punishment. That's twice you've made her bleed."
"Yeah, I'm hoping she's got the message, so I won't need to make it a third." I yawn. It's almost three a.m. and I'm running on empty.
"There's more to you than meets the eye."
I glare at him. "You mean, I'm not sweet little Harla?" I'm sick of people saying that. I don't know what gave everyone the impression that I'm sweet.
"Not what I meant. Don't put words in my mouth," he growls. "You know how to fix cars, you can punch like a boxer and you give head like a fucking pro."
My brows hit my hairline. "I was taught by the best."
He smirks, probably remembering the day he showed me how he liked it. His finger skims my jawline, and I know that this conversation is over. "Going to fuck you now."
"Nothing's stopping you," I tell him, and pull the sheets off me, showing him that I had been waiting for him.
"Christ," he growls as he twists us so that he's on top of me, both of us completely naked. "You're like a drug. I'm fucking hooked."
I gasp, and he takes advantage of it, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, stealing my breath from me. One kiss from him and I’m dizzy. What he doesn't realize is that I'm addicted to him. I need him more than I need my next breath, and yet I know that I will never fully have him.
He slowly inserts one finger into me, and I moan as he finger fucks me. It's torturous when he doesn't pick up speed, instead keeping a slow and steady rhythm. His teeth bite against my nipple and he gently pulls. My back arches.
"Saint," I beg, needing more.
He ignores my pleas and continues his slow, agonizing, sweet torture.
"Saint," I breathe heavily.
He pulls away from me, and I whimper.
"I'll give it to you how I want," he murmurs, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
I nod, just wanting him to continue. Our lips fuse together and I grind against his finger, wanting more, needing him to make me come. He rains kisses down my neck, to my breasts, taking his time with each one, sucking and biting on my nipples.
My moans fill the room as I continue to grind against his finger, my breathing ragged as he pushes another inside of me. "God."
"Not God," he mocks as he moves lower down my body. He kisses and bites his way down, as if he's marking every single piece of me.
When he gets to my pussy, he doesn't stop finger fucking me, his movement gradually getting faster. When his teeth close around my clit, I flinch, making him chuckle. He does it again, and this time I moan. I'm getting close. I can feel it rising.
"Saint," I pant, my fingers tangling in his hair.
"Get there," he demands. He withdraws his fingers but his tongue takes their place.
"Oh, oh, oh," I moan. "Yes, oh, Saint," I cry out. He doesn't stop. Instead, he once again bites my clit, and that's all it takes for me to detonate.
"Fucking delicious," he growls, lifting me up off the bed and turning so that he’s sitting up. He positions me over his cock, slowly inching into me.
"Dance for me, Angel," he says once he’s fully inside of me.
My hands roam his chest as I lift off his cock, instantly missing the fullness of him being inside of me. His fingers dig into my skin as I slam back down, grinding as I do.
Sweat beads at my forehead as I move faster, him matching my speed, thrusting into me as I grind against him.
“Saint,” I moan as I lift off his cock once again.
“Give it to me,” he demands. “I want all of you, Angel.” He’s holding onto me so tightly that I’m sure I’ll have bruises in the morning, but right now, I don’t care.
He thrusts into me, and that’s all it takes to send me spiraling. My body launches forward, and I cling to Saint’s body as I come hard.
“Fuck,” he growls as he thrusts into me again. His cock swells, and he grunts as he comes.
I stay lying on top of him, having no energy left in me to move. Saint reaches for the sheets and covers us both. His arms close around me and hold me tight.
“Te adoro, mi bello ángel,” he whispers, but I’m so sleepy I don’t recognize what he’s saying.
14
Saint
A week has passed and it’s been way too quiet, and nothing in this world is ever good when it is silent. It means they’re planning something. Our world survives off chaos. Every brother is tense, more observant. We can feel the threat circling us. But we’ll be ready for them. They aren’t getting anywhere near us—near Harla. We will all fight to the death to protect her.
As if she fucking knows I’m thinking about her, she walks out of the clubhouse and turns her face toward the sky. She’s been tired lately, big dark circles under her eyes. The flu she caught a couple of weeks ago is still kicking her ass. As if she can sense me, she turns to face me, our eyes connecting and a soft smile pulling at her lips, those blue eyes of hers shining bright. Her gaze is so intense that it takes everything I have not to cross the drive, bend her over my bike and claim her body. As much as my dick wants her, my heart wants her more. Still not knowing who the fucking mole is keeps my feet planted to the ground.
“Boy!” My head whips around at the sound of the voice. I watch Prez walk toward me.
Glancing back at Harla, I watch the hurt cover her features before she turns, heading back into the clubhouse. Reaper has once again ignored her. “You know you’re fucking killing her, ignoring her the way you are!”
Instantly, Reaper’s eyes narrow, his lips curling into a sneer. “You questioning me?” We hold each other's stare, neither of us giving in.
“You can kill each other later. We got business,” West says walking over. Both of us turn at West’s voice, noticing how tight his body is. “Rhonda’s said Bee, Ace’s bitch, has been mouthing off. Apparently, his niece is Spider’s fucking ol’ lad
y!”
My whole body tenses. Ace is a good brother, been with us for years now, never shown nothing but loyalty. He was also one of the first prospects Reaper brought in.
“How the fuck did I not know?” Reaper punches the wall until streaks of red follow.
“Shit being in the dark, ain’t it,” West growls.
Reaper turns so fast, I am surprised he’s still standing. I take a step back as both father and son circle each other, knowing this has been a long time coming.
West throws the first punch, and it connects with Reaper’s cheek. Reap quickly follows with one to his temple. West throws a kidney punch and Reaper growls, the sound rattling in his chest. He pulls his fist back and lands a blow to West’s stomach, taking the air out of his lungs, quickly following it up with a quick, sharp right to his jaw, sending West to his knees.
Reaper spits blood to the floor. “Clean up, then get your asses to the warehouse. This doesn't happen here.”
West groans, “Bastard.” But he’s smirking as I chuck him the dirty rag. He rubs his jaw. “Still got a mean right hook.”
“You think Ace is the mole?” I growl, hating that it could be him.
“Fuck if I know, but first we need to see if what Bee is saying is right. Be ready to ride in five.”
The warehouse is all set up, plastic covering the floor, two chairs sat in the middle, my array of tools, mostly knives, all laid out. I hear West swallow and turn to see him eyeing me as I sharpen my knife on the wheel, swapping the side of the blade once I’ve got the perfect rough edges. I use the leather belt to sharpen it further. I don’t stop until I know it’s razor sharp.
The sharpness of the blade digs slightly into my tongue as I hold it there. No one should try this, but after years, I know exactly what I am doing. I watch as West looks on with almost sick fascination as I run it down my arm. It takes the hair away as if it were a razor. He swallows hard, which makes me smirk.
Then the sounds of two bikes rumble.
“Play time.”
We both pull open a heavy door. Reaper and Ace ride straight in. At the sight of me, Ace does a double take, and I see the sweat already starting to drip down his temple as he turns his bike off. Getting off, he gives us a chin lift, not taking his eyes off any of us.
“What's this about?” he asks, pulling up his jeans. My eyes watch his fingers. When they don’t go for his piece, I walk over, taking it out and chucking it to West. Where I’m good with a knife, his specialty is the bullet. He can hit a moving target blindfolded.
“Anything else you’re hiding, Ace?” I ask, already knowing he has another piece in his boot and a knife in the other.
He nods, bending down before handing over his stuff.
“Someone going to tell me what the hell is going on?” he questions, his gaze going straight to Reap. They’ve been friends for years, but Reaper’s face is stone cold, no emotion playing over his features. He’s not even blinking.
We all turn when we hear the sound of a car approaching. High-beams fill the barn, and Rhonda gets out of the car.
Bee gets out the other side, her eyes widening as she sees us all standing around.
Rhonda smiles at Reaper. “Got her here.” She smirks, like she didn’t just walk her best friend into the lion's den, before she slides back into the car and peels out.
“Bitch!” Bee screams as dust circles her. She turns, facing us, then rolls her shoulders back, a sweet smile on her face. “Hey, boys.” She waves before walking toward Ace, whose eyes have narrowed on her.
“What the fuck have you done?” he growls, shaking his head as he turns to Reaper. “Look, I’m getting her sorted. I know you don’t do drugs around the club, but I swear I am getting her clean.” Bee rolls her eyes like she's heard this a thousand times.
West raises his brow, taking in the information. We sell drugs—half the country is supplied by us—but Reaper never lets the brothers have it in the clubhouse. How can you protect the club if you’re face down in the snow, too high to even know your own name?
“Take a seat.” West points to the two wooden chairs. Bee’s eyes widen as she stands closer to Ace. “Did I fucking stutter?” West growls.
Ace looks toward Reaper.
“You heard him.” He leans against the wall, sparking up a cigarette.
Ace curses as he steps on the plastic before taking a seat.
The three of us stand in line, watching them.
“Been hearing some things—you riding with the Phoenix boys.” Reaper’s voice is low, almost as if he sounds bored, but there’s no mistaking the tension in his body, how he’s holding back.
“What the fuck?” Ace stands, his face turning red as he snarls, “Never. I fucking hate those bastards, especially after everything with Callie. Mick was our best friend, and I was there at her birth.” Mick was Callie’s dad, who died a few years ago. He, Ace and Reaper were always close.
Reaper takes a long drag of his cigarette, blowing smoke straight toward Ace.
“Secure them.” Reaper lifts his chin. West and I both move together. Ace struggles until I press on his shoulder, causing him to scream out in pain. Bee starts shaking as West fastens the handcuffs. Ace growls when West does them extra tight.
Reaper walks over, sending his fist straight into Ace’s jaw, causing blood to spray over Bee.
She screams.
I pull out my piece, holding it to her head, shutting her up pretty quick.
Reaper squats down in front of Ace. “You’ve got two choices: we do this the easy way, or the hard way.”
Ace shakes his head. “Ain’t lying to you. Where’s this shit coming from?” Reaper grins, taking another drag of his cigarette.
“Glad you asked.” He turns to Bee, and she tries to move back.
“Why don’t you tell us what you told Rhonda?” Her eyes widen as she glances toward Ace, who looks like he hasn’t got a clue what the hell is happening.
“Bee? What the fuck you bitching about?” he growls, teeth red from the blood.
She shakes her head. “I-I haven’t—I haven't said anything.” She looks toward Ace, her lip trembling, before letting out a bloodcurdling scream as Reaper puts his cigarette out on her arm.
“Want to lie again?”
She starts to sob, snot and tears running down her face. “I was pissed.” She looks at Ace, anger covering her features. “You’re always running to help her, to help that fucking brat. You didn’t want kids with me, but you want to adopt that bastard.”
Ace starts struggling in his seat, trying to get to Bee. “You fucking bitch! You’re jealous of a kid!”
He lets out a deep breath, looking a Reaper. “I’m not with the Phoenix, not in with them. Remember Charlie?”
Reaper nods, crossing his arms. “Not here for a family history lesson, so get to the fucking point.”
Ace nods. “After Marilyn died, she was running with the wrong crowds, kept running away. It was a mess. She was a mess. She came home pregnant, refusing to tell us who she was pregnant by. She was coming off splice.”
Pregnant and doing drugs… I shake my head. Christ. Marilyn was Ace’s sister. She used to come around the club to make us all dinner. She was a good woman, but cancer claimed her four years ago. Charlie, her daughter, had only been sixteen at the time.
“I got her off them, gave her a room at my place. She was clean when she gave birth to a boy, Brandon.” The fucker actually smiles. Ace’s real name is Brandon.
Bee snarls, pulling at her restraints.
“He was perfect. Charlie was guilty, but he was clean. Then Charlie was disappearing again, only coming by once or twice a week. I lost it on her, slapped her. She had this beautiful boy... I didn’t know!” he growls, baring his teeth. “I haven’t seen Charlie since she took Brandon four months ago, three days before his second birthday.”
“Are we getting to the point that you’re a betraying bastard soon?” West says, lifting his brows. Ace stares him down but doesn’t say anyt
hing, then looks back at Reaper.
“I heard from her five days ago. Brandon was in hospital, and she was frantic. He’d fallen and knocked his head, and they ran all sorts of tests on him. I turned up and saw Spider, Max and Runner.” He growls, “Brandon’s father is Spider. He’s forty-three, Charlie is fucking eighteen! He put his stamp on her, so there was nothing I could do for her.” He swallows, tears swimming in his eyes.
He’s right, if she was just a hang around, a club girl, then he could get her out, send her away, but letting Spider claim her, put his mark on her… she was untouchable. He’d kill Ace and her if she tried to escape.
Another club going after your ol’ lady is war.
No friendly clubs would back that. No marker would help.
“But Spider didn’t want him, didn’t want his own son, so Charlie begged me to take him. That’s where the bitch saw me going, to claim that boy as mine.”
“What! You claimed that little shit?” Bee screeches, her face red and contorted with rage.
“Shut up, bitch,” Ace growls.
Reaper stands, nodding, squeezing Ace’s shoulder. “Where’s the boy now?”
Ace’s whole body droops, recent effects clearly showing. “With my neighbor, Raye, old man Willis’ daughter.”
Reaper nods again. “Should have come to me, brother. I would have helped you out. Now my daughter is a target. Phoenix boys came and shot up Ma’s house, killed her. You saw what those fuckers did to her. Now, they’re coming after my girl, got information no one should have. Only connection I got is you and them.”
Ace’s eyes widen, the truth finally hitting with him. We can’t let him go. Neither of them.
He closes his eyes, nodding. “I swear I never betrayed you. Take care of him for me. Promise me you won't let them get him.”
Reaper nods once. Ace returns it before Reaper lifts his gun and shoots him between the eyes. Bee screams for only a second before a bullet goes straight through her temple.
“Fuck,” West speaks as he walks out, punching the wall, screaming into the night. “What do you want to do?”
Saint's Angel: Mc Standalone Page 10
