The Salvatores Collection: A Steel Saviors MC Romance

by Ethan Egorov

  “Hey…hey none of that Saul. You were a devoted husband to her and trust me when anyone in the neighborhood talk about true love, they always point to you and your wife as a shining example of how a relationship is supposed to work. The fact is Flannigan was saying earlier that the woman should have been nominated for Sainthood.”

  “Hah! Well let’s just say that when she wasn’t nagging me half to death I would agree to Sainthood status. It’s just so empty in here. I’m really glad you boys came by otherwise I probably would have still been looking for that broom to clean up the glass. I just never had to do anything like that. She made both of us a very happy home. I wish I would have been a tad more grateful looking back in retrospect. Honestly Trent… I just don’t know how I’m supposed to go on without her. We’ve spent over half our lives together. I’m still waiting for her to pop through the door and roll her eyes at me for not even trying to make dinner, while she carried grocery bags with everything for dinner in them. She’d then make some kind of snide statement about my shoes being on the couch and make me a drink. I’d grab her around the waist and kiss her on the cheek and the evening would be spent in the silence of each other’s breathing. That my boys… in case anyone tells you anything different… is paradise.”

  Tommy and Trent frowned at Saul and each gave him a long hug before letting Saul know they were only a phone call away. He nodded his head at them and wiped tears that flowed on their own accord from his eyes on the back of his hands. As they closed the door behind them, they heard him once again fumbling around in the kitchen and cursing loudly.

  “Okay Tommy. We know she was as the hospital then went to the hotel where Kristina probably had a drink before bed to calm her nerves after seeing Saul’s wife in that delicate condition. So what do you think happened next?”

  “Fuck if I know, it’s like she just vanished off the face of the fucking Earth. Do you think anyone saw anything at the hotel?”

  “We’ve been down that road and honestly I don’t think anyone there is going to talk to us. Fuck. Tommy…we’re idiots.”

  “What are you babbling about Trent?”

  “We have to go back to Pops and get ready.”

  “Huh?”

  “It’s New Year’s Eve. We have a standing invitation for a fancy party don’t we?”

  “Oh my God…the party.”

  “Yes. Come on Tommy, let’s go get prettied up. Wear your best Tux and of course your best vest underneath it. I have a feeling that when the ball drops that things aren’t going to be very pretty.”

  Kristina woke up with her head throbbing. She shut her eyes tightly in an attempt to block out any light that was in the room and felt her stomach lurch. She had felt this feeling many times before in her life. She knew that she was facing at least a concussion. She didn’t really remember anything once she returned to the hotel, only that she was saddened by seeing such a good family hurt by a terrible tragedy. Kristina rolled over and felt the cool surface below her. It was smooth and cold, she surmised it must have been concrete. At that point though, she really didn’t care what she was laying on, but she was grateful for the cool on her throbbing head. She rolled over on her stomach and pressed her cheek against the cool ground, finally feeling a bit of relief from the pain in her head. She moved a bit more and pulled herself to a sitting position. She took in several deep breaths and was pleased to find that her mouth was unobstructed. Whatever had happened, her attacker or maybe even good Samitarian hadn’t bothered to gag her, which she felt a measure of gratefulness for. After inhaling and exhaling several times, she felt her stomach lurch once more and despite her efforts to keep her rolling stomach in check, she vomited on the ground, hacking several times and expelling all the contents of her stomach. Her fluids had almost a frothy texture to it, and she felt a bit of relief from expelling all of the apparent poison.

  “Ugh…”

  She heard a metallic click in the room and realizing she wasn’t alone, she began to once again speed up her breathing rate. She scooted herself backwards, with her eyes still shut tightly. She opened them a crack and once the throbbing in her temples eased again opened them fully. She was in what appeared to be a wine cellar of some sort and only a low hanging florescent light illuminated the room. What she heard was the flick of a cigarette lighter. The smell of smoke whiffed through the room and she heard a sharp inhale and exhale. She couldn’t see the figure in the shadows, but she knew that someone was smoking and watching her movements. It didn’t take long though, for her company to speak.

  “Well hello there. I’m pleased to see you’re finally awake. I hope you enjoyed your little nap. You seemed like you were stressed so I thought a nice little vacation may do you nicely. I thought I’d give you a little time to get away from the rat race of the daily grind. I am sorry though that you’re not going to make your flight. You’ll have to call them back some other time and apologize for the incomplete job. In my experience a good work-life balance is something important for a healthy individual to have.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about? Where am I?”

  “Ah… your location isn’t important. Just know that you’re safe here…well for the moment at least.”

  “What’s wrong with my head… did you hit me with something?”

  “Ah no nothing like that… after all I just got a manicure. I can’t mess these up, I really shouldn’t be smoking, but what’s a girl to do? A person always has to cling to their vices don’t they? You hit your head when your fell and trust me honey… you must squeeze into whatever it is you wear on the daily because those hips are heavier than what they look.”

  “Did you just call me fat?!”

  “Haha let’s just say that you’re not big boned or whatever you tell the men you try to seduce in your world.”

  “The men I – how do you know me?! Listen, I don’t want this to get messy, but I think it’s time you let me go honey, otherwise things may get well, heated.”

  “Haha oh no sweetie. That’s not how this is going to work. I know you don’t understand what’s going on here, but you will shortly. You don’t recognize my voice do you?”

  “Um…no. Should I? I mean I’ve spoken to quite a few psychopaths over the years… but I’m sorry yours doesn’t ring any bells.”

  “Hmm… what about my face?”

  The woman inched closer to her and in the low light, Kristina squinted. The woman had dark eyes and elegant features. Her makeup was done impeccably and her eyebrows had a sinister arch to them. She had actually memorized the woman’s features through the years when she would stare at Trent’s online pictures. This was the woman who almost took her true love away. Her mouth dropped and her stomach lurched again. “Oh my God. Rachelle. What the fuck?!”

  “Hahah! Ah… I see, you do recognize me after all. You know it’s a shame that Trent’s not here to see us both here chatting and getting along like old chums. I think that would make him happy. Oh well, ce la vie. You’ll have to excuse me now. I have a party to attend… I’m assuming that you won’t mind if I borrow your grandmother’s broach? Haha! You know what else… I think my hair needs a bit of pizazz also. Yes. This will do nicely.” Kristina’s head was still spinning from her concussion and she was in shock. She was too weak to put up a fight as Rachelle reached over and pulled her diamond barrette from her long red hair. She chuckled as she watched the woman’s red tresses fall over her face. “There. If you plan on taking any selfies while you’re waiting on me, you may want to clean up some. I don’t think there’s a filter in the world that will fix the mess you’re in. Ciao, Bella.”

  Trent looked in the mirror and frowned. He absolutely hated dressing up, but knew that it was necessary for them to camouflage themselves at the lavish New Years’ Eve gala. He steadied his hand as he took his razor and traced the lines on his face that were obscured with shaving cream. The razor glided seamlessly against his skin. He like the feeling of the stubble being removed from his cheekbones and the scratchin
g sound the razor made. It echoed in the bathroom and in the silence his thoughts turned to Kristina. Surely they would find her. He couldn’t believe it had come to this. All of the turmoil through the years the rival gang had put them through, and for what? Just so one of their families could be top dog? Well those days were over. They could have peacefully co-existed each with a portion of the pie, but not now. A line had been crossed and whether their father approved of it or not, him and Tommy were going to go get Kristina then settle the score. Trent muses to himself as he splashed cold water on his face. If he were going to die in a wave of gunfire, at least he would look good in his final resting place.

  He decided to take a shower. The past couple of days had taken its toll on him and he could feel the tension in his back. Turning the water to nearly the hottest setting he shut his eyes and let the spray massage his tired back. The steam filled his pores and cleansed them and he splashed water on his face to rinse away any errant shaving cream that he missed earlier. He then decided to lather his body. Of course, through the years he had toned his form by working out and playing baseball, but recently he noticed his abs getting a bit softer than what they used to be. He noticed lines around his eyes and of course he noticed a slight slump in his shoulders. He was definitely getting older and take was taking its toll on his body. He only hoped that he could continue working out and taking care of himself well enough to give himself a few more good years. He picked out the most luxurious body wash he owned, it was a designer fragrance that smelled fresh but also had a light floral note to it. He typically wasn’t prone to making such a big expenditure on his own beauty products, but Rachelle insisted that it was his signature scent. He like the idea of that. Of course, he also liked the idea of Rachelle lavishing attention on him.

  As he soaped up his hair he thought once more about that time period in his life. They were both carefree and seemed well-suited for one another. In fact, when he was with her, he didn’t miss Kristina nearly as bad. Of course, he knew that using Rachelle s a distraction from Kristina was wrong, but at the same time, he was having a great time and she was happy as well, so everything was copasetic. It was until Rachelle just left though. He remembered it well. One evening he had come home from a job and threw his keys on the counter. He was covered with soot and ash from a fire that recently had broken out in one of their other warehouses. All he wanted was a hot shower and a warm meal. He would typically find Rachelle waiting for him in his apartment reading the paper, sitting in his armchair, wearing his sweatpants. She’s had a big grin on her face and when he came to her she’d sit up and wrap her arms around his strong neck. That evening she didn’t. In fact, she didn’t any evening after that. She just disappeared without a word. He didn’t even have a chance to ask her what happened or if anything were wrong or if he did anything wrong. She was just gone. Vanished. Of course he tried to call her and message her, but it was to no avail. She even stopped showing up for her shifts at the restaurant. It was like she never existed in his world. She didn’t leave him with anything but memories. He thought that he could move on from Kristina and Rachelle leaving him with nothing but silence proved otherwise. This is why when his brother or father asked him about his love life, he only shrugged his shoulders. He knew better than to bother.

  He turned off the water and while his body was refreshed he still had a heaviness in his soul which couldn’t be shaken. He wrapped a towel around himself and took time drying off. He ran its softness along his hardened muscles and enjoyed the feeling. It had been a long time since he had pampered himself. Maybe this is what he needed to get out of his funk. He put on his extra strength deodorant and then pulled on his solid white t-shirt as an undershirt before putting on his tight form-fitting boxer briefs. They conformed to his curves and gave him support and breathability. Rachelle had told him before that they actually gave him the ass she didn’t think he could muster on his own. With her giving him that bit of information, he decided to keep them as a staple in his wardrobe.

  He pulled on his solid black tuxedo pants and was pleased to see they still fit even thought it had been several years since he had the occasion to use them. They had been dry-cleaned and hung up. He secretly thanked his father’s housekeeper for keeping them for him in the mansion. He only had a few things stored in his room and those were around a few other things. They had also been pressed before being hung up and stored, which he appreciated. He was all thumbs when it came to the proper care of certain articles of clothing. If it were up to him they would have probably ended up crumbled in a ball at the bottom of the closet never to be seen again. Afterwards he slung his button up over his shoulders and sighed. He always felt so constricted wearing the collared shirts. It was like he couldn’t breathe the moment he put one on. Rachelle had told him numerous times through the years that he cleaned up well though. He only hoped she was right, he needed to play the part of a successful businessman tonight so they could get every scrap of information they could on not only who kidnapped Kristina, but who had killed Saul’s wife and destroyed their property.

  Starting at the bottom his fingers trembled slightly as he buttoned up the first button on the bottom of his shirt. He decided to do a black button down shirt under his black vest and jacket, of course it was Gucci, so it was well-cut and had style, but he found it especially fitting. He was in mourning for Saul’s wife but also found its grimness matched his mood. After all, the man in all black was never the hero of the story. He wouldn’t be the hero at the party, in fact, he was past the phase in his life when being the knight on the white horse was overrated. Deep down he knew that nice guys really did finish last and he had grown tired of waiting for their enemies to make their move. It was time to be viscous and attack instead of becoming a target. After tucking his shirt into the nice pants, he took his time fastening his holster around his body. He knew that the jacket should mask the fact that he was wearing a gun, but at the same time he really didn’t care who knew he was carrying. He was one of the quickest shots anyone had seen so he really didn’t care who knew he had on his piece. The apparatus was tight and he adjusted it so that the pocket of the holster was easily accessible with his dominant hand. He was a decent shot with his left hand too, but in the event of a shootout, he wanted to make certain that he had the best odds. Even if he were dressed for a funeral, he didn’t want it to be his own. Not yet anyway, he hadn’t completed his jobs.

  He slipped his favorite weapon in his holster and he felt oddly comforted with its snugness. It did seem to be in the perfect position for convenience. Shrugging his shoulders he easily fit into the solid black suit jacket. Trent never liked the idea of wearing a tie, because it felt like something was always constricting his breathing, also in his line of work he’d seen many people fall victim to a tie being used in their own grisly demise, but he sighed and flipped up the collar of his shirt. He expertly tied the knot in it. It was also a solid black tie to match the rest of his outfit. After buttoning the bottoms of the sleeves he stood back and looked at himself in the mirror once more. He looked like a different man. He looked like a man who knew how to handle business and he could certainly impress the ladies.

  He walked down the hallway and rounded the corner to find Tommy waiting at the top of the stairs. He had his phone out and was scrolling intensely. He seemed like he was studying something or trying to find out a vital piece of information. “Hi ya, Tommy, are we about ready?” His brother turned around and almost did a double take at his striking figure. “Wow! Look at you, Mr. GQ! You decided to up the ante tonight it looks like.”

  “Hey now you’re no slouch either. It looks like both of us are set to go to the Academy Awards or something. Maybe we’ll even meet the queen or something.”

  “Pfft. This suit is one that I’ve kept around for years. I’ve worn it before, but that was only during a cruise. Of course, that was an amazing week of gambling I’m telling you. I had never, ever pulled so many queens out of a deck before.” As Tommy continue his story
about the history he had with one of his favorite suits, Trent just couldn’t get over just how opposite they both were. Tommy wore black slacks with a white button down and a white jacket. It was cut to fit him nicely and almost gave him the impression of having hips and a great butt. That was something that Trent possessed naturally, but Tommy needed a little help in that department. He chose to wear a simple black bow tie to set the outfit off and it gave him a refined elegance that Trent tried to fake but couldn’t. He wasn’t certain if Tommy had put on his holster and would shoulder his own gun or not, but he would certainly rest easier if his brother would at least compromise on that with him. “Hey… Tommy, you really did do a bang up job with your outfit. I gotta ask you a question though?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Did you put on your vest and holster?”

  “You want to know if I’m packing heat? Wow. I think that question is a bit personal.”

  “Tommy! Come on enough fooling around. Did you remember to get secure?”

  “Rest assured, little brother I have my bulletproof vest tucked safely against my chest and yes, I do have a small nine millimeter with me. There’s also an extra clip in my sock just in case.”

  “…In your sock?”

  “Yeah. Why do you think I say these are my lucky socks?”

  “Oh…geez. You’re kidding me.”

  “Nope. Hey, I’m just saying sometimes luck just needs a little encouragement. Especially if luck is a lady, sometimes you just have to gently take her hand and lead her to the dance floor.”

  “That’s the worst analogy I’ve ever heard.”

  “Come on asshole, let’s get to that party before the clock strikes midnight and you turn into a pumpkin.”

  “That makes you my fairy Godmother.”

  “Did anyone ever tell you, you were annoying?”

  “All the time. Hey what were you looking at on your phone earlier?”

  “Oh nothing. I was just checking out some basketball scores. I have just a few wagers out there. Nothing major, though just a couple hundred bucks here and there.”