“I didn’t get my name from a knife, and I don’t like people thinking that I did.” He shakes his head in aggravation, taking his eyes off of me and back to the still-burning cherry. He wants to say something but knows that this is an argument he can’t win. I squeeze his shoulder again and he looks back at me.
“Our brotherhood does go beyond the patch. And I appreciate your offer. Same goes for you.” He smiles and you would think I’ve just made his whole fucking day. Dumb-ass.
I leave him processing my words, but turn back when I get to the door. “Hey, Shady,” I call, and he turns, his goofy-ass smile still in place. “Pick up that cigarette butt.”
I walk inside, leaving an officer for the Sinner’s Creed MC picking up my trash in the parking lot, and having only one thought in my mind—payback is hell.
—
Nationals knows about the situation with Death Mob, and even though my work was done, they wanted me to stay in town a couple more days to make sure Cyrus stayed good on his word. He did.
The next night we pulled into Juke’s Joint, Death Mob was waiting to shake our hands. I just gave them a salute and kept walking. Now that I’m almost back to Mississippi, Nationals wants me back in Texas. Just fucking great. But at least I’ll have one night at home.
Saylor and I have kept in contact the three days I had been gone. She always tells me she loves me and I never respond. I don’t think it’s necessary. She knows it and I shouldn’t have to send it in a message to confirm it. Although, I like when she says it to me.
I didn’t tell her when I was leaving, and now that I’m outside her apartment, I wonder if I should have. When I hear voices inside, my first reaction is to kick down the door. When I hear male laughter, my second reaction is to set the building on fire. But, today, there is another issue at the complex, and two patrol cars linger at the end of the parking lot. So, instead, I decide to text her. I’m so pissed I can barely punch in the letters on my phone.
Who the fuck is here?
I wait several minutes and get no response. I light a cigarette, trying to calm my growing temper. It helps clear my head and I decide to give her a call. From outside the door, I can hear her telling them to be quiet because it’s him. That’s me. That means she is hiding me from them.
I’m flooded with all sorts of emotions; betrayal, hurt, sadness . . . but above all, fury. I close the phone just as she says hello and knock on the door, willing my hand to not knock a hole through the wood. When a man with blond hair wearing a V-neck answers, I lose it.
I grab his shirt, lifting him off his feet and pushing him inside, then closing the door with my foot. I don’t need any witnesses. He looks like he is about to shit his pants, or throw up. I’m not sure which one.
When I break his nose with my fist, he screams like a girl. I crack my neck, flex my fingers, and take a deep breath, letting my plan of torture run through my mind again and again. I’ll break all his bones first, then I’ll cut him in places where he will slowly bleed out. I want him to feel the pain for as long as possible.
As I reach down to pull him from the floor, I’m blinded by a mass of curly blond hair. Arms are around my neck, legs around my waist, and I fall to my knees with the impact. I start to pry her off of me when her mouth connects with mine. She isn’t asking me to stop. She isn’t begging me to spare his life. She is kissing me like I’m the only man in the world.
Everything around me dies and I am consumed only by her. My Saylor. My hands fist in her hair and I kiss her back with ten times the passion she is showing me. Her taste, smell, and body fuse with mine, and everything about the two of us becomes one. From our rapid heartbeats, to our perfectly molded bodies, to our tongues that fight to get more from the other.
I feel like her blood is my blood, her touch is my touch and her mind is my mind, and it is saying I miss you and I love you. Nothing can break us away from this moment of euphoria. Nothing but high-pitched screams, two men crying and banging on the door. Saylor pulls away and she is smiling. If her kiss didn’t have me breathless, her beauty would.
“You broke my friend’s nose,” she says, and looks like she couldn’t give a shit less. “I missed you so much.”
I start to tell her I miss her, but the word police and banging on the front door has me snapping out of the moment. I stand up, pulling her with me, and wonder what in the hell I’m gonna say. My mind is clouded with her, and I can’t think rationally to save my fucking life.
“I got it.” She looks at the man holding a towel to his nose and says, “Go along with the story.” He shoots her the finger and when I take a step toward him, he hides in the chest of another man who looks just as terrified as him. Confusion has me cemented to the floor. “Come in!” Saylor’s voice is excited, and I know it’s not because the cops are here, it’s because I am.
“There a problem here?” the first officer asks, his hands resting on his gun and his eyes on me. Before I can answer, Saylor intervenes.