She thought she knew what a man like Saint was capable of, but she was wrong. Saint looked like he was in control most of the time. He probably was. He ran his MC with an iron fist, but seeing him unravel like that disturbed her on a whole new level.
“Some time apart will do us some good,” she whispered to herself.
She looked out the windows and saw the sun was up. Olivia would need to get ready for work soon. She rubbed at the goosebumps that appeared over her arms. God. Last night didn’t feel real at all. One moment, Saint and she were having a good time, and the next? Some psychopath went after them.
Olivia wouldn’t be able to sleep easy for the next few nights. She wasn’t safe with Saint. Maybe she’d never be. On some level, she understood being with Saint meant she’d never be able to live a normal life. He assured her he was all in. Olivia believed him. She just needed to figure out if she could stomach his lifestyle for the rest of her life.
After breakfast and a quick shower, she headed outside. She was surprised to see Iron there. He’d parked his bike by the driveway. By the grumpy look he gave her, he’d probably been out here all night. Olivia retreated inside, made a quick mug of coffee and a sandwich. When she met him outside again, she handed him the mug and plate.
“I needed that,” Iron said after downing the caffeine and devouring the sandwich.
“I’m surprised you’re here. How did last night go?”
“I’m glad you contacted me right away and not the cops. When Saint’s in that kind of mood, he becomes irrational,” Iron explained.
Saint. Her thoughts had kept revolving around him last night and again this morning. No doubt he’d occupy her thoughts the next few days.
Iron paused, as if he was filtering what he’d tell her. “The guy’s alive. He’s in the intensive care unit at St. Luke’s.”
She grimaced at those words. “Is Saint mad at me?” She took a deep breath. “I’m a nurse, Iron. Helping people in need is my calling.”
“I think he’s still angry at you, but honestly? It’s good news this fucker lives. I also want him dead, but plenty of locals saw Saint punching the lights out of him. If he died, I doubt we’d be able to cover it up.”
“Okay.” Olivia could do nothing else. Of course, Saint was still mad at her. She felt the same way, too. Some part of her was still a little scared of him, and that frustrated him. Saint might not be a decent man, but he was good to her. Always been. “Can you take me to work now?”
Iron nodded. She was surprised when the biker added, “I’m sure he’ll come around.”
“I thought you’d prefer us not getting back together. That way, you’ll no longer need to play the role of bodyguard.” She was teasing him, but the big biker didn’t look offended.
Iron regarded her gravely. “You’re trouble. Devil was right, but I’m beginning to think you’re an asset to Saint and the club as well. For one, you soothe his frayed edges. He’s become less violent and impulsive. Plus, you’ve been real helpful. You never say no when one of our guys need patching up.”
“I hope Saint feels the same way.” Olivia didn’t like being called an asset. It sounded impersonal somehow, but whatever. She didn’t mind helping the MC out when all they needed was a little medical attention.
Iron raised an eyebrow. “You’re not giving up on him? I’d understand if you do. He’s not an easy man to manage.”
That was the ultimate question, wasn’t it? Olivia could tell Iron to butt out, that it was none of his business. However, she’d begun to see him as a kind of friend over the past month. He started out being annoyed he had to babysit Saint’s woman, but over time, they’d become friendly to each other.
“Last night surprised me. I told Saint I just need time to process some stuff but no. I’m not giving up on him. I never will.”
“He’ll be happy to hear that.”
“Don’t tell him I told you that,” she said quickly.
“Will do. Now get on. You’ll be late for your shift.”
Chapter Thirteen
Saint was in a rut. He checked his phone during a club meeting. No new text from Olivia. A week had passed since their spat. They’d only begun messaging each other again now. Saint was impatient with their progress.
How long was she going to hold this little grudge against him?
He grilled Iron about their morning conversations. Part of him was jealous Olivia preferred talking to the other biker rather than him. Then again, he wasn’t sure he was ready to see her face-to-face again so soon. Her wide-eyed expression and her pale face from that night still haunted him. His doubts began to resurface.
Bonnie’s mom, Sadie, had left because she couldn’t accept his choice of lifestyle. That and they hated each other’s guts. Bonnie was the only good thing that came from their toxic relationship.
“The Red Dragons MC picked a new President,” Devil was saying. The other MC members gathered around the long table grumbled, those sitting and those standing around.
“Who?” Saint asked.
“Gears.”
Saint scoffed. The former VP of the Red Dragons MC wasn’t half as smart as Rooster, so he wasn’t too worried about him taking over. In fact, this was good news. Gears thought with his guns and fists. Hell, he hardly did any thinking at all. Killing Rooster was definitely a good decision.
He only listened with half an ear to what was going on. His thoughts still centered around his woman. Could he even still call her that after what happened? Shit. This had never happened to him before. Saint never thought he’d ever be this hung over for one woman. Chains and Bear tried to cheer him up by sending club whores to his room at night. Saint turned them all away.
This was all Olivia’s fault. Somehow, the little minx had gotten deep in his head and she was all he could think about. Hell, he missed her so badly. He masturbated to the thought of her phantom lips on his cock night after night. Her pussy clenched around his dick.
Saint knew he should be focused on the meeting, not on Olivia.
At this rate, Saint wouldn’t last. Fucking his hand gave him zero relief. Saint preferred the real thing. His hot nurse under him, begging for his cock. Olivia cuddling close to him in her living room while they watched movies. Olivia cooking him a disastrous breakfast, only dressed in his shirt. Olivia telling him about needing to give the mayor an enema.
Saint smiled.
“You’ve gone off to la-la land,” Devil remarked. Only his brother would have the guts to say something like to his face. “Her pussy’s that good, huh? What, is it made of gold?”
Saint shoved him unthinkingly. Devil’s chair toppled over and he landed on the floor. Stares whipped to the two of them. It only pissed him off when Devil didn’t throw a punch back, merely laughed at him.
“Fuck you, you want me to break your face?” he demanded. “Don’t ever say anything disrespectful toward Olivia again. She’s not just any old whore to me. She’s going to be my fucking old lady.”
“Nah. My old lady likes my face just fine,” Devil said. His brother rose to his feet, dusting himself off. “Why don’t you take her back already? You being miserable and mopey isn’t helping anyone.”
“I’m not mopey,” he snapped. “And mind your own fucking business.”
Devil was right, of course. The stalemate between Olivia and him was getting too old. He didn’t think she wanted to end things with him. If she did, they wouldn’t be texting each other like awkward teenagers.
“We’re heading into the Dragons’ territory again. You sure you’re up for it?” Devil asked him.
“I’m always up for some action,” he said, pissed. Saint had plenty of rage to burn. Plenty of frustrations, too. Good thing he could take out all of his emotions on the Dragons. “Let’s go burn their latest shipment of cocaine.”
“Thank God he’s back,” muttered Devil. “Just making sure you’re with us.”
Devil genuinely cared about him. Saint knew that. Devil was just being a dick, as usual, be
cause he knew Saint would let him get away with practically anything. Saint gave his brother another shove before exiting the clubhouse with his men.
Grizzly, the fucker who’d pulled out a knife on him, had told him about the Dragons’ latest haul. This was yesterday, just when Grizzly was about to be discharged from the hospital. Saint didn’t even need to do a damn thing, although he was prepared to resort to intimidation tactics, maybe even a little torture. Grizzly just gave him all the information he needed when Saint and Devil cornered him. So much for a man’s pride.
It could be a trap, but Saint didn’t think so. Grizzly literally lost control of his bladder during the talk. Olivia had been out on her lunch break during that time. Saint caught a glimpse of her while Devil and he were about to mount their bikes. She’d been talking with her nurse friend Jean. Olivia gave no indication she saw him, but Saint bet she did.
He nursed one smoke, then got on his bike. Devil went over the plan with the others again. Saint occasionally butted in. He finished his stick and got his bike. It was time to wreak some havoc. After this job was done, maybe he’d pay his nurse a little visit. Devil was right. It was time he stopped brooding and second-guessing himself.
Olivia had gotten a nasty shock that night. Nothing more. She wanted time and Saint had given it to her. It was time they sat down and had some meaningful discussion. If that didn’t work, then Saint would just have to resort to using his mouth, hands, and dick on that sexy body of hers. She could never resist him.
Now that was a fine plan.
Smiling to himself, Saint revved his bike and departed on the road.
****
Saint: I’m coming over later tonight. We need to talk.
Olivia mulled over Saint’s words for a few moments. It was just like him to make demands. Of course, he wouldn’t bother asking her if she was free tonight. He loftily assumed she’d be at home, doing nothing. In a way, he was right. Olivia was beat after her two consecutive shifts. Jean had called in sick today, so Olivia volunteered to fill in for her.
Olivia: Fine. I’ll see you later.
God knew Olivia missed Saint. Talking to him, laughing with him. Heck, she missed having sex with him terribly. No other man had been capable of making her feel so wrung out and incredibly satisfied afterward.
Absence really did make the fonder, or in her case, created a hole in her heart. Only Saint could fill it. With hesitation, she texted him another message.
Olivia: I miss you.
Saint: I miss you, too. So fucking much, baby.
Reading his reply gave her some measure of relief. Their time apart taught her she was willing to go the extra mile for this man. He held her heart captive after all. Saint was it for her, for better or for worse. She’d seen a glimpse of his violent world and for a second, it paralyzed her. Anyone would be scared in that situation, but Olivia was beginning to shake off the image of Saint repeatedly using his fists on Grizzly. Grizzly would’ve taken her life and Saint’s without any hesitation.
Olivia went back home with Iron. The other biker hadn’t shrunk from his duties one bit. When they reached her father’s house, which she still refused to think of it as hers, she invited him for coffee.
“Sure, why the hell not,” Iron said. “Saint also wanted me to check on your security system before he came down.”
They walked to her doorstep. Olivia unlocked the door, ready to enter the eight-digit PIN to the panel next to the door in the next sixty seconds. If she failed to enter the code, the security company would be informed, then the cops. Strange.
It was eerily quiet in her home.
“What’s wrong?” Iron asked her with a frown.
“There’s no—” Olivia couldn’t finish her sentence. A man crept behind Iron. She could see the outline of something long in his hands. A baseball bat. Before she could shout a warning at the biker, wood collided with his skull. Iron turned, as if in slow motion, hand thrust inside the pocket of his jeans. Had Iron sensed imminent danger and been about to reach for his gun?
Too late for that now. Another loud whack of the bat and Iron tumbled like a doll on the ground. Brett’s strained face loomed about him. Her ex looked completely unhinged. Brett wore one of his favorite pin-striped gray suits, but it was rumpled, full of creases. Large, pale-green eyes bulged from the sockets of his face.
Fear gripped her. Olivia looked from his monstrous figure and back to the door. She couldn’t possibly run out and abandon Iron. He was her friend and one of Saint’s trusted MC brothers.
“Think carefully, little dove. Will you run out on your friend and leave him here to bleed? He might’ve gotten a concussion.” Brett slurred some of his words, but he didn’t look completely hammered.
“I need to check on him,” she said, surprised by the calm in her voice. Despite hating how weak she looked, she shot him a pleading glance. “Please? I’m sure you don’t want blood on your hands, Brett.”
He threw her a look of disgust. “Fine. Check on your boyfriend. When the P.I. I hired mentioned you were close to the MC members in this town, I didn’t believe him for a single second.”
While Brett continued his monologue, Olivia knelt down over Iron, worried he’d suffered a concussion. No blood on his skull, but he didn’t stir. She needed to get him to a hospital. Brett must’ve thrown aside the baseball bat because it landed with a thud on the floor.
Fat fingers wrenched at her hair. Her heart galloped when the kiss of a cold metal barrel had been shoved against her skull. It looked like Brett was done playing nice. She knew he had a collection of guns back in his apartment, but they were just for show. Brett had a license, but she didn’t think he’d ever shot anyone.
“Stand up, whore,” he hissed in her ear.
Agony rippled from her skull as he forced her to her feet.
“If I can’t have you,” he said in an angry voice, “no one else will. Leave the boyfriend. I’ll take care of him later on.” He shoved her toward the living room.
“You have an interesting house. Doesn’t seem like your style,” he said, nodding to the armchair. Olivia saw the loose ropes crisscrossing the chair and swallowed. Dread rose from the pit of her stomach, followed by despair. You’re no longer alone, she reminded herself. Saint would come to her rescue. He always did, but what if he came too late?
“This place belonged to my father. He was a preacher,” she answered.
“You never told me that before.”
“I did, a few times. You never learned to listen.”
Her words only served to fuel his anger because he violently shoved her toward the armchair. Brett kept the gun pointed steadily at her. He looked flushed.
“Brett.” She was glad her voice came out steady. Deep down, she was shaking in her boots. The only way to deal with psychopaths like Brett was to try reasoning with them. At the very least, Olivia needed to delay him as much as she could. Get him talking until Saint arrived. “You don’t have to do this.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Of course, I do.” With one hand on his gun, he used his free hand to bind the ropes over her body. The restraints cut into her scrubs, her skin. He didn’t seem to care if he cut her circulation.
“You left me in an embarrassing situation, Olivia,” he told her.
He leveled his bloodshot eyes at her, and for a second, he reminded her of someone. Grizzly. The drugged-out biker who’d tried to knife her. She knew Brett occasionally took designer drugs at the parties he attended like some rich trust fund brat reliving his teenage years. Maybe that explained his rash actions. Then again, trying to apply logic to Brett was a waste of time.
“You’re mine,” Brett said, tightening the knots. He kissed her neck and she jerked away, repulsed by his touch. His breath was warm against her ear. She struggled in her bonds, but it was no use. Brett had been an exemplary Boy Scout in his youth.
His next words stopped her cold.
“You’re my property, Olivia. If I can’t have you, then no one els
e can.”
Chapter Fourteen
Something had gone wrong with Iron and Olivia. Saint knew it in his bones. He stared at his phone. Iron had called him, which he only did when he encountered trouble. There was no one at the other end of the line. He heard muffled voices afterward. Olivia’s pleading voice and a man’s.
“Fuck.” Saint walked out of his office, grabbing his jacket and favorite firearm.
“What’s the hurry?” Devil asked, blocking his path.
“Olivia needs me. Her ex is back,” Saint said through gritted teeth instead of telling his brother to fuck off.
“Need back up?”
“I’ll handle this on my own.”
He left the clubhouse and got on his bike. Saint knew that Devil was close behind him. His brother would never leave his back unguarded. Right now, Saint’s number one priority was rescuing Olivia. He rode like a speed demon toward Olivia’s house. Thank God it was quick thinking on Iron’s part to try to contact him. Still, Iron’s lack of a response didn’t sit well with him. Had Olivia’s ex finally paid her a visit? Why didn’t the alarm sound off? Saint didn’t tell Olivia, but he’d made arrangements with the security company. If there was an intruder in her home, he’d be the first to know.
Unless, Saint mused, Brett had been smart enough to turn it off. Olivia mentioned Brett had plenty of cash in the bank, which meant he had access to resources. Brett could’ve paid someone to do the dirty work for him. It wouldn’t be that difficult to break into Olivia’s house.
He gripped the handlebars of his Harley hard, until his knuckles turned white. Just imagining Olivia at the mercy of her abusive ex triggered his wrath. Saint didn’t ride into the front of Olivia’s house. He took the street opposite her home. Saint parked his bike near the fence that bordered her backyard. Saint spotted a black Jaguar parked a few feet from him, one with city plates. He could only assume this ride belonged to Brett. So, the bastard came by this way, did he?
Saint's Fall (Fallen Saints MC Book 3) Page 8
