Chapter 3 Saint
SAINT
Bear and I took off before the scout patrols began that night, and we took the long way around the town.
I knew exactly where Rodney was. Where his estate was and all that shit.
But I wanted to do some scouting. Keep my eyes peeled for anything that could seem off.
Or strange. Or out of place. Bear and I rode around in silence, constantly interchanging who was in front and who brought up the rear.
And like we were asked, we were in civilian clothes.
No one was wearing their crew leathers. Plus, I’d taken the time to cover up the massive upside-down red cross on the side of my bike.
Though, it matched the upside-down cross I had tattooed down the length of my spine.
“I don't see shit, Saint,” Bear said.
The Bluetooth microphone came alive in my ear as we took a sharp left.
“We’re still twenty minutes out from Rodney’s. So, keep an eye out,” I said.
“Who’s this Rodney guy anyway?” he asked.
I fell silent at his question, though.
I had some contacts in the area. Ever since I’d fled to the outskirts of the state and tried making a life for myself.
I didn’t know what I wanted as a teenager.
Fresh out of high school after being kicked out of my parents’ place.
I stayed long enough to barely skirt by with my grades.
Then, I sold off my shit, packed my bags, and bought a bus ticket to California.
And the first person I met in the area while I slept in alleyways was Rodney.
Bear didn’t need to know all that shit, though.
I kept my past close to my chest because the past was the past. No use dwelling on it, unless it was relevant.
And the only issue I had with bringing Bear along on this ride like Diesel asked was because my past was now becoming relevant.
If I answered the wrong question the wrong way, I’d be done.
The barrage of questions wouldn't stop until my entire fucking bullshit past was out there for everyone to digest.
I was more like Toxin in that regard.
No one need to know my story like that.
I merged into the right-hand lane and got in front of Bear.
I signaled for him to follow me as we got closer to the massive compound we were headed for.
I waved my fingers in the air, beckoning for him and telling him to keep a tail on me.
Then, I kicked up the pace. I weaved in and out of traffic, dead set that we weren’t going to find anything on our patrol.
And while I still kept somewhat of an eye out, my attention was now solely on getting to Rodney’s place.
Again, without too many questions.
“Holy shit,” Bear murmured.
I pulled up to the wrought iron gate that encased the “compound.” Or, rather, the very large, beachside, upscale neighborhood.
I punched in Rodney’s code I’d memorized by heart.
A code that hadn’t changed since the first day he brought me here after finding me surviving off dollar menus at the nearest fast food place.
I saw the red light come on, indicating that Rodney was using his camera to identify who I was.
And when I looked straight into the camera, the gates opened.
“Where the hell are we?” Bear asked.
“Rodney’s neighborhood,” I said plainly.
“I mean, fucking obviously, Saint. But where exactly are we?”
“I call it ‘the compound.’”
As I eased myself through the gate, I drove slowly through the neighborhood.
I tried not to make too much noise, because there were a lot of people in this place that were jumpy.
On the outside, it looked like an upscale neighborhood.
Full of rich bitches and momma’s boys that were spoiled fucking rotten.
But what people didn’t know was that Rodney owned this place.
Owned this compound. And he stocked these seaside mansions with associates of his.
People he worked with that were higher up the food chain so he could easily access them. And keep tabs on them.
But again, Bear didn’t need to know all that shit. Because for what it was worth, I wasn’t even sure Diesel knew that shit.
“You sure we aren’t gonna get our asses handed to us?” Bear asked.
I pulled into Rodney’s driveway. “Do we look like we’re in a place where we’re going to get gunned down in the street?”
“I mean, you never know with these kinds of places.”
“We’re fine. Now, tuck it in. Rodney doesn’t like those that are weak.”
“How do you know this dude again?”
“We go back,” I said flatly.
As I pulled my helmet off, my newest tattoo burned a bit.
A botched Bible verse I got tattooed in red and black shadowed block letters across my chest. It was a Bible verse that was pounded into me as a child.
Metaphorically, and literally. My parents were absolute religious nuts.
Bible-thumping Baptists from Louisiana that used their source text of peace to make my life a living fucking nightmare.
My tattoo read, “I can do all things through Myself, who strengthens me.”
And I swear to fuck, them kicking me out was the best thing they ever did for me.
As the tattoo burned, my life flashed before my eyes. Catholic school. The nuns that failed me on tests because I challenged their views. Being kicked out and how disappointed my parents were. Them sending me to public school to show me what being a “sinner kid” looked like.
Meeting Amberly…
“You good?” Bear asked.
I cleared my throat.
“Yep. Good to go,” I said.
I tucked my helmet underneath my arm, an action I’d made habit after having my first helmet stolen from me.
We walked up to the front door and I used the massive knocker to bang on the beautiful wooden door.
It was hand-carved, one of Rodney’s prized possessions when it came to his seaside mansion.
Lumbering footsteps sounded behind the door.
The thumping of a cane. I grinned as Rodney came toward us with that familiar cadence to the way he walked.
Then, he opened the door and smiled.
“Long time, no see,” Rodney said.
“I see you’re still limping on that cane. Care to explain?” I asked.
“Ah, it’s easier than physical therapy.”
“And since when have you ever done easy?”
“Since I found myself a woman that wears me out in bed.”
“Rodney!? Who’s at the door?”
A woman’s voice rang out through the foyer and my eyebrows raised.
I held out my hand and shook his, then pulled him into a back-patting hug.
I introduced Bear, who practically dwarfed the lean and trim man in front of me.
And after introductions were finished, he beckoned for the new woman in his life to head upstairs.
“Will you be joining me soon enough, handsome?” she asked.
“If that’s what you wish, beautiful,” Rodney said, grinning.
Bear chuckled as my grin grew into a smile.
We paid our respects by not staring too hard at the long-legged, busty beauty that walked down the hallway.
I quirked an eyebrow at Rodney as her thick ass swayed walking up the steps.
And it wasn’t until we heard his bedroom door close down the second-floor hallway that I closed the front door behind me.
“Well, she’s really something,” I said.
“Oh, I promise she is,” Rodney said, winking.
“I like him already,” Bear said.
“Does he know how we know one another?” Rodney asked.
I shrugged. “He knows enough.”
“Don’t worry. He’s got a lot of questions about his past he’ll be answering later,” Bear said.
Rodney and I fell silent at the accusation, though.
If Bear really thought I was talking about shit like that, he had another thing coming.
I wasn’t talking about anything I didn’t have to.
Not when it came to my parents, and especially not when it came to Amberly.
The last thing I needed was some pussy-hypnotized dudes encouraging me to go find her after all these years.
The last thing I needed was someone coddling me about my past and putting it in my head that “your life’s better now” and “your parents are assholes” and “you should pay them a visit to show them the man you’ve grown into. ”
Because if I visited my parents under any circumstances, I wasn’t too sure I wouldn't kill them.
“Well, the two of you care for a drink?” Rodney asked.
Before we could answer, he turned around and leaned heavily on his cane.
He lumbered down the hallway, and I smacked my hand against Bear’s chest. I shot him a glare, telling him silently to keep his fucking mouth shut.
Then, I followed Rodney. We all walked down the hardwood-laden hallway, underneath the vaulted hallway ceiling before we were dumped into a pristine kitchen.
Stainless steel appliances that hardly looked touched.
Marble countertops that brought up the pale blue color of the crown molding.
I smiled as I took it all in. When I bunked with Rodney after he’d found me that day, he let me stay with him.
For a price, of course. I had to help him with some renovation shit around his house.
Keep an eye on contractors and the like.
I ended up helping more than keeping an eye out on things and learned a lot of valuable lessons when it came to fixing shit.
Installing shit. Making shit from scratch work in the moment.
You know, shit a father should’ve taught his son.
“Wine or whiskey?” Rodney asked.
“Got any beer?” Bear asked.
“Actually, I do,” Rodney said.
My eyebrows rose. “That’s a first.”
“I blame you for the taste of it. Had you not started me drinking it all those years ago, I probably would have never acquired the taste for it,” Rodney said.
“Well, you gave me a lot. Least I could do was leave you with a bit of my culture,” I said, grinning.
“Ah, the culture of a man fallen from grace,” Rodney said.
I felt Bear’s eyes on me as I drew in a deep breath.
It was a comment Rodney didn’t need to make, but I knew what he was doing.
He always told me that if I wanted to find my second family, I needed to open up about my first. Trust them, so they could trust me.
But, on the streets? I’d learned to trust no one.
Never trust someone’s generosity, and never leave while still owing debt to someone.
I leaned against the kitchen island as Rodney popped off the tops of the glass-bottled beers.
He handed them out, then limped around and stood in front of Bear and me.
He took a good look at us. Really raked his eyes over us, trying to get a handle on why we were there before he started asking questions.
And while Rodney was a very successful and prominent “businessman,” I knew he’d never be able to peg this.
“How can this guy help us again?” Bear murmured.
I leaned into him, whispering as Rodney stared at us.
“On the outside, he looks like a button-up citizen. But don’t let it fool you. He’s got his hands in lots of things. He might have information for us.”
“Uh huh. And what does he want in exchange for this information?” Bear asked.
“I don't know. Why don’t you ask him?” I asked.
Rodney grinned at our antics as we straightened up, each of us taking a sip of our beers.
“So, you’ve come for information about something. You know that requires an exchange, right?” Rodney asked.
He looked at me a little too long, and I suddenly started getting uneasy.
“Money? Or goods? Or actions?” Bear asked.
“Depends on what the flavor of the month is,” Rodney asked.
“Money or goods. We can do either,” I said.
“No… actions?” Rodney asked.
“Saint, we didn’t clear it with Diesel to do either,” Bear murmured.
“Ah, Diesel. I haven’t seen him around for a while. How’s he doing?” Rodney asked.
Bear paused. “You know Diesel?”
“Of course, I do. Him and I went to grade school together. From time to time, we ride our bikes with one another. A few less high-speed trips after an accident left me with this fun little limp of mine. But I’d say twice a year we pack up our stuff, take a long weekend, and go north,” Rodney said.
Bear slowly looked down at me as I continued to nurse my beer.
“That how you got in with the crew? Rodney introduced you to Diesel?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes and down the rest of my beer, because I refused to answer questions like that.
My past was my past, and how I wanted to deal with it was my business alone.
No one else’s. I set my glass bottle down before swallowing hard one last time.
I drew in a deep breath, trying to calm myself and center my mind.
I got angry easily. And while I had tactics to cope with it—like getting tattooed and going on bike rides—sometimes it simply wasn’t enough.
Then, once I had myself under control, I turned to face Rodney.
“We need to know everything you might have heard about a mafia group in town. And we need it as quickly as you can get it to us. Because the life of one of our women is at stake,” I said.