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, because 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.