Saved by a Sinner

by A G Henderson

  My brows pinched together. "You never told me about that," I said softly.

  I had so many questions. Who was she? What happened? Did I need to find her and kick her fucking teeth in? But he’d already told me he didn’t want to get into it.

  He shrugged, as if he wasn't revealing things I had never known. "I haven't told a lot of people a lot of things. Until now, Texas was the only one who knew about that part of my life."

  "Really? Not even Rebel?" The traitorous Sinner dealt in more secrets than a politician.

  "Nah, too bloodthirsty."

  "Right, and Tex isn't?"

  "Not to the same degree. He's a killing machine but he doesn't crave the violence of it. I knew he wouldn't demand a pound of their flesh when I wanted it to myself. He's also an expert tracker, which I needed more than anything."

  "You made them pay?"

  "In spades, darlin'.” Tone was never one for the more volatile emotions that came so easily to the rest of us - sometimes I wondered what had drawn him to the club in the first place - but his quiet menace was something to be respected. A gentle giant remained a giant at the end of the day. “You shouldn't even have to ask. Now quit sidetracking me. I'm trying to drop some knowledge on you while you're in a position to listen and hear it without any distractions." He pointed out the window. "There. That'll work perfectly."

  I pulled onto the dirt road he was indicating, although to call it a road was a bit of a stretch. It was more of a trail, overgrown with vegetation on either side and riddled with potholes so deep my teeth clicked together each time we bounced across one. The path was certainly meant to be traversed by a truck instead of a luxury vehicle and I chose not to think about what was happening beneath the car.

  This was why I didn't bother with overly nice things. When winter rolled around and my bike went up for the season, my old, lifted Jeep got me where I was going with no problem and I didn't have to worry about dings or scratches. Those became Rain's problems when I took my girl into the shop.

  We bumped along until we reached a small clearing. In the past, it might have been a campground. There was a gymnasium sized wedge of concrete with cracks scattered throughout where weeds and grass had reclaimed their territory. On each corner were wooden posts where I imagined a roof had once sat, but the corroded sheet metal discarded in the woods some distance off meant it wasn't doing its job. There was only a scant section of it remaining towards the back corner and it was equally as ugly and rusted.

  Wherever we were, it was far enough away from the city I could actually hear the sound of wildlife chirping and singing as we got out of the car. My breaths immediately came easier. I was seriously missing the easily obtained peace and quiet from back home.

  Tone ambled towards the one-time structure and laid down in the shade, putting his back against the cool stone and locking his hands behind his head without a care in the world. I followed behind him with a bit more caution, taking note of the termite ridden logs and branches waiting for the perfect opportunity to leap out in front of someone unsuspecting.

  They would have to twiddle their thumbs a while longer and hope to claim another victim because I wasn't taking any chances. Tripping and falling was dangerous enough without carrying dozens of sharp objects at any given time. Some lessons I learned more painfully than others.

  I stopped beside Tone and his eyes were closed. Didn't stop him from patting the space right beside his large frame in clear indication. He wasn't serious. Right? Did he have any idea how many bugs were probably crawling around this deserted nature preserve?

  "Don't tell me you're seriously worried about a little dirt and some bugs," he drawled, sounding way too amused for my liking.

  I scoffed. "Of course not."

  Of course I am. Is he out of his mind?

  Blood and guts were one thing. At least they were familiar. There was nothing of the sort when it came to insects. They were miniature aliens with too many eyes and a complete disregard for picking a fight with things much larger than them. I knew they served a purpose in the grand scheme of the ecosystem. I simply didn't care.

  "This is my favorite pair of jeans,” I lied boldly, eyeing the rickety wooden beam beside me. “I think I’ll just...lean right here instead.”

  Tone didn’t bother calling me on my shit, which was annoyingly nice of him and I halfway hated how much I appreciated it. I could only imagine the kind of ammunition I was giving him here. Reputations aside, I lived with and worked around a horde of the most rough and tumble men the state had to offer.

  People knew I preferred to stab first and ask questions later, but if they found out about such a weak point they would give me shit about it until the end of time.

  “You’re over there thinkin’ highly of me right now,” he said with a grin. “Let me stop you real quick because I’m gonna hold onto that bit of information in case of a rainy day.”

  My eyes narrowed, although the effect was somewhat lost since he wasn’t looking at me. “I don't believe you.”

  “You should.”

  “I don't.”

  “Hmmm. So you trust me to keep your secrets?”

  Where is he going with this? I shifted on my feet uncomfortably, eyeballing a currently empty spider web.

  One brown eye opened and peered up at me. “I wouldn’t be asking you this if it wasn’t important.”

  “My trust is being stretched a little thin these days if I’m being honest.”

  “But…”

  “But yes, I still trust you. That's not exactly newsworthy. When you woke up after the other day's fiasco and found yourself not bleeding out in some filthy alley you should've figured it out.”

  “Should I be worried that’s going to happen to Tanner?”

  His name alone was enough to make my pulse jump with the sudden spike of fury flooding through my veins. I’m not ashamed to admit I indulged it for a moment. My mind crafted a beautiful scene. One where I took Tanner to one of my special places and strung him upside down from the rafters while I gathered a collection of objects. Some sharp. Others not so much.

  I wrapped the image in a pretty bow and offered it to the rage inside of me, letting it slake its thirst. Then I thought of Carlos. I released a long breath and let the mental torture scene evaporate like smoke, taking the anger with it.

  “No,” I answered, surprising myself. Tone crossed one leg over the other, letting his foot bounce in the air. He was making a valiant effort at pretending he wasn’t completely focused on my every move and expression.

  “No,” I said again, stronger this time.

  I stuck my arm out, far enough to feel the warmth of the sun. I watched the shadowed patterns from the trees play out across my skin while I gathered my thoughts.

  “He fucked up in a big way, bigger than I ever expected he possibly could. He was so damn bright compared to the rest of us.” I pulled my hand back into the shade. “I never expected anything like that to be lurking beneath the surface. Which made it so much worse. Even now, it isn’t easy to stomach. I can’t reconcile the grinning guy who helped me keep it together for years and years with whoever the hell that other asshole was.”

  Tone made a noncommittal hum and his foot stopped bouncing. “I’m not sure it’ll help any, but on the off chance it can, I feel like I should tell you his grin ain’t looking too pretty at the moment.”

  My thoughts came to a screeching halt. “Come again?”

  “I got a call from one of the Viper’s early this morning.”

  “Raze?”

  He shook his head. “Nah, I'm blanking on the name. Raze was there when I arrived, although I think he might be a bit salty over the whole knife to the face deal. He came out from behind the bar long enough to declare himself not guilty and tossed me a set of keys before dipping out. I found Tan in one of the back rooms with a bloody shirt and a bag of frozen peas over his nose.”

  “Did he say what happened? Or who?”

  “He wasn't big on conversation but I
have a pretty good idea anyway. Give ya one guess.”

  “You think it was Carlos.” I frowned.

  “It makes sense.” He shot a cheeky grin my way. “Unless you have an alibi for him.”

  I didn't bother to comment. Both because the slight flush to my cheeks spoke volumes and because what Tone was saying made sense. Carlos had to have been somewhere when I woke up. He hadn't volunteered where and it hadn't occurred to me to ask. Either I trusted him or I didn't. I had no interest in being the woman who sat around biting her nails, wondering what her man was up to.

  Still, he remained the most likely candidate simply because who else had the balls to go for a Sinner? His brother, Manuel, seemed to be the second best choice but there could only be one reason Carlos would go after Tanner, and I knew him well enough to know that reason made it personal.

  A stray memory chose that moment to return and I remembered the way Carlos’s hair had been slightly wild when he came back. For anyone else, it would've been an innocuous detail. For him? It was definitive proof.

  My belly tingled with a now familiar sensation. I suddenly understood the stars in Caitlin's eyes when Creed manhandled assholes in her bar. I didn't need a man to do violence on my behalf but I had a newfound respect for how fucking hot it was anyway.

  Why had I run him off earlier? I barely remembered. I only knew how bad I wanted his hands back on me. Everywhere.

  Sooner rather than later.

  “So that's what it looks like.”

  I blinked and found Tone standing across from me. Wait. Standing? Great. Carlos’s stupid forearms had become so prevalent I was losing time even when he wasn’t around.

  Tone’s grin was bright and obnoxious. “Little Ol’ Sly is fucking happy. Practically beaming with it.” He clapped a hand over his chest and rocked back on his heels. “I was holding out hope but I wasn't sure I would ever see the day.”

  "Don't count your chickens before they hatch," I muttered, doing my best to adopt a peevish tone and failing epically.

  He huffed down his nose, looking at me like I was full of shit. "Seriously? What's the point in pretending when it's already painfully obvious. I've been trying not to point a finger at the elephant in the room, or woods, as the case may be, but come on. You're fucking talking for Christ's sake! And you're doing it without looking as if someone is putting your tongue through a cheese grater. That's huge."

  We both knew he was right. About all of it. So why was I trying to deny the facts? The answer was simple enough.

  I didn't hold much fondness for the world as a whole, especially the people who inhabited it. I had been let down too many times because I hadn't recognized life for the meat grinder that it was.

  I used to think I was thick as thieves with my mom's sister, Vanessa, but it became clear very quickly that she had no idea what to do with me after the fire and ashes. She had expected me to sit in a strangers chair, a man at that, for a few months and, 'get it off my chest.'

  Her words, not mine.

  I never said anything in any of my sessions, and after Dr. Sutton had tried to pat my hand and nearly gotten his wrist broken for the effort, he hadn't said much else either. We developed a routine before long where we sat as far apart as possible and ignored each other.

  I only continued to show up because the alternative was listening to Vanessa whine and complain about how I never wanted to go shopping, or get my nails done, or get massages, or any of the other inane things we used to do together before.

  As if I could possibly care about any of those things when my very soul had been broken into pieces and scattered. Pieces that cut me to the bone each time I picked one up and attempted to put it back where it belonged.

  When my behavior never returned to the safe boundaries she understood, the chasm between us grew wider. How could it not? The Sylvia she knew no longer existed and in her place was a lost girl who felt more at home in the company of a motorcycle gang than at her own high school.

  Once, and only once, Vanessa tried to blame what my idiotic therapist referred to as behavioral issues on the company I kept. The way she said it, with a sneer to her face usually reserved for week old garbage, was rude as hell.

  But holding my tongue wasn't difficult because I hadn't spoken a word to anyone. At least until she started bad-mouthing Creed, straight to my fucking face.

  Then I found my voice for the first time, razor blades in my throat and all.

  We each said things we could never take back but I didn't care. I grabbed a duffel bag, stuffed it full, and walked away without looking back. There were very few things I held dear. I decided then I would protect those things no matter what it cost me.

  I shook myself, physically and mentally, casting off the bitterness those memories would always carry. Tone was waiting with his hands in his pockets, the picture of serenity.

  “You asked me why I was pretending,” I whispered, feeling my heart beat faster, knowing the truth about to roll off my tongue. “I'm pretending because I don't know how else to protect this feeling. I'm happy.”

  I paused, shoulders suddenly so tense it was giving me a headache. I was waiting for thunder to rumble overhead and for a lightning bolt to topple one of these trees straight onto my head. Maybe the ground beneath my feet was going to split apart and swallow me whole. Fate had been content to pour gasoline over my heart at every other opportunity, why stop now?

  “So much is up in the air,” I continued when no calamity bloomed into existence. “Carlos has this whole plan laid out but until he can put it in motion, everything relies on walking a tightrope. There’s also the hand of god waiting right above us.”

  Tone grimaced. “Creed.”

  “He’s given me, us, leeway to handle this ourselves. Except you know as well as I do what’ll happen if this city becomes our graveyard at the hands of the Cartel.”

  “Scorched Earth,” he confirmed. “He’ll let everyone off their leashes and the Sinners will be at war again. This city will become ground zero for a battle it isn’t ready for.”

  I rubbed at the back of my neck. It did nothing to release the knot of tension. “It’s piled up like a deck of cards. If I let myself show the happiness I’m feeling, I have to wonder if that’s the piece that pushes everything over the edge. What if life is waiting for me to play one more card so it can blow up in my face?”

  “And if it is?” He said casually, as if we weren’t talking about the destruction of a refuge I had barely so much as grasped. A life I thought was nothing more than a dream until a pair of honey colored eyes stood ready to lay the world at my feet.

  I was in his face before I registered moving, both hands against his chest pushing him backwards. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I snapped, nostrils flaring as I pushed him again.

  Tone backed away from me, hands raised. “I know this is all new for you, but you’re smarter than this, Sly. You don't win the game by not playing. That can only bite you in the ass later on. We both know there will always be something threatening to tip the balance. No, the only way to win is to embrace it. Plant yourself on the board and then spit in the face of anything that tries to fuck with that.”

  “Carlos and I-”

  “Are nobody's business but your own,” he interrupted. “Don't rob yourself of this chance because you're afraid of losing it. You deserve this, and I think everybody can see it except for you.”

  I didn't respond. I had no idea what to say and a mumbled thank you seemed completely inadequate. Instead, I did something which surprised the both of us. I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him, enfolding him in the shortest hug ever, but the longest one I had ever willingly given another person in longer than I could remember.

  For me, that was an entire monologue condensed into one action to show my appreciation.

  CHAPTER 20 - Carlos

  Erin's worried face was the first thing waiting for me when the elevator doors opened to the company floor.

  Great. Exactly w
hat I fucking need right now.

  My very first instinct was to snap at her for having the nerve to bombard me with whatever the fuck it was before I so much as made it to the lobby. The urge was strong enough to make my lips begin forming a snarl before I noticed Isaac standing behind her shoulder, expression tense.

  For him to be here waiting instead of partaking in his favorite activity, crunching numbers, meant whatever had Erin’s panties in a bunch was serious enough to warrant my attention.

  I schooled my expression and stepped off the elevator right as it dinged and began closing. Mastering the volatile mix of emotions raging inside me wasn’t easy as I worked to make sure my mask was firmly in place, but how could it be?

  My goddess was once again out of my reach.

  For multiple reasons, I had an active gps installed in any vehicle belonging to me or someone I cared about. Whenever I wanted, I could open an app on my phone and see where my assets were in the city. I was positive I had opened it more in the last few hours than I had throughout the year so far.

  The moment Sylvia had walked out of the salon and been joined by the, bearded Sinner from the other day, I had been informed, and managed to remain relatively calm. They were operating in the city which kept her within my domain if I needed to get to her quickly. Ideal? Certainly not. But manageable.

  Then they'd gone beyond the outskirts of Charlotte and kept going. My calm had vanished like it had never been, leaving an unrelenting tension balled up inside my chest. It didn't abate when they pulled off the road in the middle of nowhere. It only grew larger. A storm front off the coast threatening to be unleashed.

  The fucked up part of it was, I knew my worry was misplaced. My pride wasn't such an obstacle it would keep me from admitting she could take care of herself. For God's sake, Sylvia and her brothers in arms had brought the Cartel to heel statewide and put them on a leash when such a thing was otherwise unheard of.