Chapter Two #3
“Like I said, my coworker and I were taking out the trash when she pointed out four motorcycles. It was dark but under the dim light I recognized your emblem.” She pointed to his vest. “I told her to forget about you guys—”
“But we’re so unforgettable,” Sinn interjected. “At least I am, right? Admit it. I’m the better-looking twin and you like me.”
She ignored him and continued, like he never said a word. “There were four of you. Three on bikes, one walking around. I assumed he was taking a leak. Anyway, we heard more bikes approaching, and I said we should go inside. That’s when the first gunshot...”
Something clicked into her recollection. A sound and a flash, not from the bikes. From somewhere else.
“Shit,” she muttered.
“What?” Saint demanded harshly. His tone snapped her out of her thoughts.
Suddenly, he stood, his chair rolling back a little, and marched around the desk.
She backed up, trying to preserve herself, since all her instincts were telling her to run.
Just as she grabbed the knob, his hand slapped against the door, caging her in.
“One of my men was shot, so tell me everything you saw. Now.”
It took all her strength not to hyperventilate and remain calm under the weight of his dark presence, but she had to admit her control was slipping.
Memories were bullets tearing through the fragile link to her sanity.
She tried a different mantra. This wasn’t a cage and they weren’t going to rape her.
Then a hand gently curled around her arm and removed her from Saint’s ferocity.
Only then did she realize she had pulled out her knife.
The blade pointed at a very vulnerable spot on Saint’s anatomy.
His eyes widened a fraction, the only indication that she managed to get the drop on him.
“No need to scare the shit out of her, Brother,” Sinn said. He pulled her to his side then gently took the knife from her cold hand. “We’re not going to hurt you, Kira.”
She wasn’t fooled by the good-guy persona he had going on, and gently pulled her bicep out of his grasp. “I need my knife back.”
“Do you even know how to use that thing?” Saint demanded.
“I was close enough to inflict damage, so you should take that as a yes.”
Sinn chuckled. “Never seen you speechless before, Brother. Remember your manners.”
“Fuck off,” Saint said. His lips pressed together so tightly they were whitish. “Kira. Please. Tell me what you saw.”
“The first shot came from behind you and your men. From the gas station.”
The brothers shared a troubled glance. That clearly wasn’t what they expected.
“Are you positive?”
“We had a wide-open view,” she said. “I saw the flash and pulled my coworker down in case there were stray bullets. Your men and the other bikers drew weapons, and there was a gunfight. In the confusion, a man grabbed something and ran. Now that I think about it, that was probably the shooter. As he fled, the duffel was tossed into a stack of piled tires. Later, after you guys left, Christine went and retrieved it. She had plans on keeping the money, but I knew this needed to go back to its owner. Sinn had already come looking for it, and I’m sure you’d keep sending men to hunt for it.
So, I made the decision to bring it back. ”
For the third time, her phone went off.
“Damn it,” she muttered. She turned around and connected the call. “What?”
“Kira!” Christine cried out, her voice heavy with terror. “You took the money! I-I need it! I told my boyfriend about it and he wants it. Please bring it back. Please help me. He’s going to kill me!”
“Is he hurting you?” She heard yelling, and Kira suddenly realized what was going on.
For a moment, memories crashed through her mind, and her vision tunneled into a tumult riot of pain.
No woman should go through what she went through, and she refused to allow the same thing to happen to Christine.
No way. Not on her watch. “Christine, are you in trouble? Just grunt if yes.”
The grunt came through.
“Tell your boyfriend I’ll be there ASAP, and I’ll have exactly what he needs.” She hung up and turned back to Saint. “Are we good?”
“What’s going on?” Sinn asked.
“Personal business. I’ve gotta go.”
“Wait,” Sinn said. “That was your coworker, wasn’t it?”
The last thing she was going to tell them was her private business. “Nothing important. Like I said, personal business. Just tell me we’re good and there won’t be retaliation.”
Saint gave one nod, but that was all she needed.
Turning, she left the office and retraced her steps out of the clubhouse, ignoring all the revelry and debauchery going on.
She had no problem with consenting adults doing whatever they pleased, but she couldn’t watch it.
Sex had been ruined for her long ago. Once she got to her car, she unlocked the trunk and grabbed her baseball bat.
“What are you gonna do with that?”
She glanced up. Saint was outlined by the lit-up house behind him, casting shadows on his face. Even though she couldn’t see his eyes, the stare sent a chill down her spine.
“I’ve got a pest to take care of,” she replied.
She slid behind the wheel of her car and moments later the outlaw bikers were in her rearview mirror. Now, she focused on what she was about to do. Time to rid the world of one more asshole.
****
Saint placed a phone call, watching the beat-up piece of shit car disappear down the road. He had men patrolling and ordered one of them to trail her. Then he headed back inside, ignoring the party.
“I want to keep an eye on her,” Saint said when he returned to his office. He picked up a pack of cigarettes and stuck one in his mouth.
“Why? You think she’s hiding something?”
“Curiosity.” He grabbed the duffel and pulled out the money. “I want to know if this Good Samaritan act was just that. An act.”
“Why would she lie about that?”
“To get to us.”
Sinn sighed. “You have persistent and unjustified feelings of suspicion, mistrust, and persecution. You should probably get some meds.”
Saint ignored him. “I want you to go to her diner tomorrow.”
“That I don’t mind doing,” Sinn said immediately. Saint could hear the smile in his voice. How his brother remained so upbeat after the shit they’d been through was beyond his understanding.
“You do realize, if she’s right, she’s marked a traitor in our midst.”
“The traitor could easily be from the Bone Breakers,” Sinn pointed out.
“You’re right,” Saint conceded that idea. “Shit. That means I have to talk to Lucifer.”
“What do we tell the men?”
“Don’t tell them anything.” He saw the take-out bag from the diner resting on the floor. “She concealed the duffel.”
“Smart girl.”
“Yes,” Saint mumbled around the unlit cigarette between his lips. “She returned the money without taking any of it. What kind of person does that?”
Sinn clapped his brother on his back. “A good one. The kind you didn’t know existed.”
Saint knocked his brother’s hand away. “Fuck off. No one is that good of a person. Not when they have that much money in their hands. She has to want something from us, and I want you to find out what it is.”
“Bet you fifty bucks she doesn’t.”
“I’ll take that bet,” Saint said with a smirk. “Easiest money I’ll ever make.”