Savage Saints MC: MC Romance Collection

by Hazel Parker

  God, it was so hard not to speak. I wondered if Kyle was even going to offer me anything, or if he just relished getting to lord over me like this with information. My gut said no, but…

  Well, my gut tended to empathize with people, sometimes to an awfully large fault. And right now, it was desperately searching for ways to validate that empathy for Kyle.

  “In any case, I suppose I could tell the Bloodhounds to lay off,” he said. “They are free people, and they are people who have, let’s say, an aggressive mindset. There is a chance that you may suffer attacks here and there. But I can request that they pull back and stop attacking you…at a price, of course.”

  “I understand,” I said. “And what would that price be?”

  Kyle chuckled.

  “I want you, Marcel, and Uncle to meet me in two hours right by the warehouse that you took Damon down at,” he said. “Don’t think I don’t know which one it is. I’m well aware. I want you all to come unarmed. Come on your bikes, I don’t care, but so help me, if one of you brings anything, I will make sure that at least one of you doesn’t make it out of the weekend. I don’t care if that ‘anything’ is a stick that could draw a cut. Bring your bikes, your clothes, and that’s it.”

  “And then?”

  Kyle looked down, chuckled again, and shook his head.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “But it’ll be your one chance.”

  I nodded.

  “Now get the fuck out of here,” Kyle said. “You have two hours.”

  He turned his attention down, starting to text on his phone. I gave him a couple of seconds in case he changed his mind, but when it became evident he wasn’t going to, I stood up slowly and headed for the front door. Still cautious about potential traps and the like, I moved slowly.

  It wasn’t until I got outside of his apartment that I hurried down the street, hastily heading to the repair shop for a meeting with my family.

  * * *

  “You’re out of your fuckin’ mind!”

  Uncle leaned his head back and laughed sarcastically at me. I had just delivered Kyle’s demands for meeting him that night, and unfortunately, Uncle was taking it exactly as I had feared he would—poorly.

  “You’re telling me that you want us to go meet the man responsible for all of the death and bloodshed and trouble this club has experienced since its founding, and you want us to do so unarmed? Are you insane? He’s going to shoot us dead on the spot!”

  “He’s going to do that if we bring something in, yes, you’re absolutely right, Uncle,” I said. “But someone has to step up and be the bigger man here. We need to take a risk. Look, if it makes you feel better, we can bring our guns and leave them by our bikes. If we see other bikes in the area, then we can hide them and take them inside, or we can just not go inside. But—”

  “Don’t fucking but me, Biggie, I’m no goddamn fool. I smell a trap when I see one, and this is a trap the size of the fucking Hudson. Jesus. Next thing you know, you’re going to tell me that he wants us to get on our knees and pray with him while he holds a knife to our throats.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Could you, for once, Uncle, have some compassion for your nephew? You don’t have to like him. I don’t like him. You just need to be open-minded.”

  “That kid was a fucking brat, and he hasn’t changed a goddamn bit in the years. This is the fucking dumbest thing that I have ever heard. If you think I’m going to partake in any way, there’s only one person that’s going to get me to do it, and he’s sitting right there.”

  He pointed to Marcel.

  “If the president orders me to go unarmed and walk into the teeth of death, then I will do it and die wondering why I was so stupid as to invest in a bunch of idiots. Otherwise, fuck it. I’m not doing shit.”

  I looked to my brother, who, to this point had remained silent, letting Uncle and me bicker over everything. He had become more presidential and a better leader by the day, but right now, I really just wanted him to take a side and determine this battle for the both of us.

  “Any thoughts, Marcel?” I said.

  He leaned forward and cleared his throat.

  “I’m asking you, Jack, not as a club member, but as my brother, to tell me how certain you feel that Kyle is not setting a trap,” he said. “And don’t answer immediately. Take a second to think about it. Our lives depend on the answer.”

  I nodded and did as requested. But there really wasn’t much to think about, at least in my mind. Whenever Kyle had met one of us in person, he had never carried a weapon. He was meeting us at a remote location, far away from potential help. Even if he brought help and got us caught in a shootout, he risked getting hurt himself.

  And aside from that, I felt that I had made real progress with him. He was still going to snicker and make smartass, harsh remarks, but he was much more open than before.

  “I think it’s worth it,” I said. “As long as we keep an open mind and don’t criticize him, we have a chance. We can’t mock him in any way.”

  “Christ—”

  “Uncle, shut the hell up.”

  I wanted to hug Marcel then for standing up to Uncle.

  “We want the violence and the anarchy to end? We placate Kyle however we need to, at least for tonight. Down the road, sure, if he tries to abuse this peace, we can push back. He violates such peace, we push back. But right now? I don’t think we should do anything that could even slightly offend him.”

  Uncle laughed and started to say something, but a glare from Marcel shut him up before he finished one word.

  “Alright,” Marcel said. “We leave in an hour and a half. We bring our guns and stash them in our bikes. Uncle. You don’t say a goddamn word at the meeting unless requested. If you do, I’ll kill you myself. Got it?”

  “Fuck,” Uncle said. “If you need me, I’ll be in the bathroom getting all my truthful remarks on Kyle out before you two numbskulls censor me.”

  He stood without a further word, slamming his chair under the table and stomping out. I turned to Marcel and shrugged.

  “He’s in, huh?”

  “As in as he’s going to be,” Marcel said. “I really hope you’re right, Jack.”

  I bit my lip.

  “I sure hope so too.”

  * * *

  The three of us pulled up to the empty warehouse two minutes before Kyle’s requested time. We saw no other motorcycles and just a single car parked outside, as clear a sign as any that Kyle would be waiting for us alone.

  “You all know the deal,” Marcel said as we removed our helmets. “Weapons stay here. We’re each going to show the other in clear view that we are unarmed before we head inside. Let’s do that now.”

  I went first, lifting my cut and shirt, as well as my jeans, to show that I was unarmed. Both Uncle and Marcel signaled their approval, although Uncle’s approval was more of resigned acceptance. Marcel did the same. Uncle hurried through his, but not before Marcel made him do it again. Uncle went more slowly this time, but he was without a weapon.

  “Good,” Marcel said. “Uncle, anything you’d like to say before we head inside? Because remember, you’re not to say a word until we get there.”

  “I know, I know,” he said with an eye roll. “Jack, you’re either a genius or the biggest fucking idiot there ever was. There’s going to be no middle ground with this action.”

  “Well, maybe that’s the idea,” I said. “Maybe we can make sure that this stops immediately, or we know that we can strike ruthlessly and without pause until Kyle is dead. Sometimes, it’s good to have things in black or white.”

  “Better hope so, kiddo.”

  I didn’t say a word. I nodded to Marcel, and the three of us walked over to the warehouse.

  As soon as I opened the door, I could see Kyle standing in the middle, his lithe figure just barely illuminated by the half-moon above.

  “You guys came on time; I’ll give you that,” he said.

  He had his arms folded, an
d his head tilted back, trying to demonstrate authority as much as possible. His voice sounded deeper than when I had spoken to him just a couple of hours ago, but that was nothing more than posturing.

  “Now that you are all here, thanks to the efforts of Jack, I want to hear from all of you. Jack, I know what you’re going to say. So summarize.”

  “Of course,” I said. “I’m sorry for everything we did to you in our childhood, Kyle. We shouldn’t have treated you as we did.”

  Kyle let silence hang in the air for a few moments before he smiled at me.

  “Nice to see at least one of you is genuine,” he said. “Marcel?”

  Marcel cleared his throat and stepped forward. Even that gesture, though, seemed a little menacing to Kyle, who took a step back.

  “Brother,” Marcel began. “I know we haven’t had the greatest relationship in the past. I know that I’ve been something of a giant pain in the ass to you. I know that even now, into adulthood, our conversations have been contentious. I am sorry for mocking you, belittling you, and treating you like shit. I should not have done that, even with the immaturity that I had. I would love for nothing more than for us to be at peace, if not real brothers again. I’m sorry.”

  Kyle again let silence hang. No doubt, this was something of a power ploy for him, but as I had explained to Uncle, we had to let him have a little bit of power for the time being. Worries about who would be in control later would be dealt with later. For now, though, we had to let him have his moment.

  “Took long enough,” Kyle said, but at least it was an acknowledging answer.

  And now came the moment I feared the most. The moment in which all of this might go to hell, the moment in which this all seemed to rest on the person who was most likely to fuck this up.

  “Uncle.”

  Even Kyle seemed to sense that this was the real test, the real moment to see if we were serious. I was genuine. Marcel was genuine.

  But Uncle only knew Kyle through his tantrums and outbursts. He didn’t know him through the moments that eventually led to said outbursts and tantrums.

  “Well, Kyle,” Uncle said, and his voice immediately put me on edge. “I know that I can be a bit of a hardass, a bit grating, a bit…well, a bit obnoxious. I know that I can be…a burden sometimes, I’ll admit that.”

  And…?

  The silence that followed left me extremely uncomfortable. We just needed Uncle to say three words, but he couldn’t muster them, even with all the stakes in the world right now.

  “And?” Kyle said, echoing my thoughts.

  “And…well, I was a pain. I admit that.”

  “And how do you feel about it?”

  Uncle squirmed and groaned.

  “You know what?” Kyle said, his voice getting edgier. “This was a fucking mistake. I can see that you all still hate me.”

  “Kyle!” I yelled, but it was too late.

  “Damn straight!” Uncle yelled.

  “You all are fucking dead!” Kyle yelled. “Don’t ever approach me again, any of you. I’m going to make sure the next time I see any of you, it’ll be with you buried six feet deep.”

  Kyle turned, walked into the darkness, and disappeared, only briefly visible when he opened a door to his car. Marcel and I turned to Uncle, fury in our eyes.

  “You couldn’t fucking muster even a fake apology?” Marcel said sharply.

  “You want me to fucking lie?”

  “Yes!” we both said at the same time.

  “Fucking pathetic,” Uncle snapped. “Savage Saints don’t apologize for shit they didn’t do. They don’t grovel like a bunch of bitches. They stand up, and they fight our enemies!”

  “And that attitude is why we’ve lost members,” I said. “Kill Damon. Kill the Bloodhounds. But if we can make peace, that prevents future attacks. Instead…”

  “Shut the fuck up,” Uncle said. “You’re just a goddamn kid, Jack, remember that.”

  “You know what?” Marcel said. “We’re leaving. Now. We’ll deal with the fallout later. Right now, I don’t trust this place to be safe.”

  I followed Marcel as he left without waiting for compliance from Uncle. I heard Uncle blathering behind us, but by this point, I didn’t much care. I had lost faith in him. I had lost faith in peace.

  And now, I had no idea what that was going to lead to.

  Chapter 6: Lilly

  Just get through this, and then you can see Jack.

  Kyle had peppered me all morning with text messages expressing his enthusiasm to see me, even more so than he usually did. We obviously hadn’t texted at all before the unexpected encounter at the coffee shop, and we’d only texted a little bit since, but this morning felt like a deluge of text messages. I almost felt tempted to ask him if something had happened that was making him put so much energy into the evening, but I felt that that would be too rude.

  And that, really, was going to be the challenge of tonight. To treat him as an adult, but to recognize that he was still vulnerable. I didn’t want to handle him with kid gloves, but I couldn’t just pretend that he was like any other adult; for better and mostly for worse, he was putting me on a pedestal.

  I figured that if I treated the afternoon like a chance to better understand him from a biographical perspective, selfishly, I could use him as a character study for placement in one of my future books. Yes, it might have been for ulterior gain, but I figured it would also give Kyle the best time without being unrealistic in my treatment of him. If I went any other way, I worried I’d go too far in the other direction.

  As it was, when I was preparing for the date, I tried to go as casual as possible without looking sloppy. I only wore jeans and a white t-shirt, along with some black sandals, about as plain a look as one could get. I really didn’t want to change out of the hoodie and gym shorts I usually wore as a writer, but, well, that was a standard I just could not sink to.

  I agreed to meet Kyle at a bar in Manhattan, a place called Dave’s Pub, for drinks. I had suggested the place in part because I figured it would dramatically reduce the chances of me running into Jack or anyone else I knew. Kyle loved it because it was a chance for him to be in the “big leagues” of Manhattan.

  I actually got there early, at about five minutes till three, but as it turned out, Kyle was eagerly standing outside, waiting for me to arrive.

  “Hey!” he said excitedly when he saw me.

  I had wanted to have a couple of moments to myself, the better so that I could prepare myself to be pleasant, but Kyle’s wandering eyes made that much too impossible.

  “Hey, how are you?” I said as I went for a hug.

  Kyle’s hug was the perfect embodiment of how I felt—awkward. It started much too strong, slowed down into almost a hover hug, and then backed up into a quick, nervous shrug. If you described Kyle’s actions without describing how old he looked or anything else about him, you would have thought that he was an anxious teenager, perhaps a slightly nicer version of Holden Caulfield.

  “I’m doing great! I’m doing great, now that you’re here. You, umm, want to grab a drink?”

  “Sure, a drink would be great.”

  I felt his hand briefly touch my back, but he pulled it away after just a moment’s touch. It was almost like a kid who wanted to touch a snake but didn’t want to press down too hard on it.

  I began to wonder just what the hell Kyle had gone through as a kid that had made him so…uncomfortably anxious as an adult. I knew he got picked on because of his diminutive size all the way through high school, and I knew he had two brothers who were awful, but I didn’t know anything else. I was a little hesitant to ask, too, even with my earlier desire to learn more about him.

  “Great place, huh?”

  Oh, Kyle, you poor soul.

  “Yeah, it’s not too bad,” I said, giving a short chuckle. I might need more than just a drink to survive this.

  “So, umm, tell me about what you’ve been up to,” he said.

  Didn’t we alrea
dy have this conversation? Back at the coffee shop when we first saw each other? If only boys understood we didn’t want to be on a pedestal; we wanted to be eye-level with them.

  Jack understood that. And that was why Jack was still the most interesting man in my life. Not that I was going to tell Kyle that.

  “Just continuing to work on my current book,” I said. “Nothing newer than that. What about you? How’s the politics scene going?”

  “Oh, well, you know, it’s going fine,” he said.

  He looked like he had something that he was just aching to get off his chest. I decided no words were better than some words in the hopes that he would have the space to talk, but really, all it did was lead to some incredibly awkward silence where it felt like he couldn’t find the courage just to say whatever he wanted to.

  “Going fine, huh? Nice for some politician in this country to be able to say that,” I said with a snort.

  “Well, it’s not quite like that.”

  Suddenly, his voice seemed very even-keeled and very calm. Almost…terrifyingly so, in fact.

  “How so?” I said.

  Well, you might just have gotten what you wished for.

  “Well…I don’t want to dwell too much on it,” he said, which was usually code for “but I’m about to dwell on it for quite a bit of time.” “But there’s this group in town, the Savage Saints, that has been causing a lot of trouble in the Brooklyn area. I know some of the members from before, and I’m trying like mad to get rid of them. It’s for the sake of the people, you know? Brooklyn is a much safer place without those thugs running around.”

  Savage Saints…why does that sound so familiar? Like I’ve seen that lettering somewhere…

  His voice was rising, and I could all but see steam coming off his head in anger. I hadn’t seen Kyle this angry, ever. The bartender came by and took our drink orders, but it did little to quell Kyle’s rising rage.

  “Those thugs have led to murders in the street and a sense of unease everywhere in Brooklyn. Gunfire is much more frequent. But the bastards are just too good at covering their tracks. Or, if you ask me, finding the right people to suppress justice.”