Dark Temptation (Dark Saints MC Book 2)(4)

“Asshole,” Skillex growled at me as he lifted his hand to stop the flow of blood from his nose.

He looked good and roughed up. Exactly my orders from Bear, our Prez. Bear could count on me to do exactly as the club needed.

“We see you again anywhere near our county, we’ll break more than your goddamn noses,” I said quietly, taking his gun. We’d dispose of them in the usual place later.

The two of them righted their bikes and we stood back.

“We’ll escort you,” Kade said. They both headed North on Old Split Rail Highway. Kade and I followed until they got to Highway 37 and then we peeled off.

It was a good day’s work.

Kade and I stopped on the overpass for a moment and watched their bikes fade over the horizon.

Port Az was Dark Saint’s territory. There was no place for the Hawks, if they were Hawks. Or any other crew. Running them out was the goal. Mission accomplished.

“I really like what you did there with the nose,” Kade said.

“Yeah? It was an improvement.”

“For sure. You think that’ll be it?” Kade said. Exactly what I had been thinking.

“For now. For a while. But people are gunning for action in Port Az. Hawks, Mexicans, maybe more.”

“I think you’re right on that one, brother.”

I didn’t want to think what that would mean. Most likely I’d be busting up more than noses.

We fired up our bikes again and headed back.

Port Az was getting bigger and harder to control. But part of the reason it was getting bigger was us, The Saints.

The Hawks wanted to come in and bring in worse shit than we ever allowed. It was going to be trouble.

Half the town had no idea why this was a good place to be. The other half knew exactly why and they stayed out of our way because of it.

“Let’s meet up with Zig at Woody’s,” Kade said. That sounded just right.

“We earned it.” Nothing like a shot or two after a hard day’s work.

At Woody’s Lounge, in the old section of Downtown Port Az, you could have a drink, play some pool, and be left alone. The newer places in Port Az had a college element. Or for fuck’s sake, hipsters. We were glad those businesses were thriving – it put money in our pockets – but we sure as shit weren’t going to drink in ‘em.

Woody’s Lounge was old and gnarly. Zig was already in a booth at the back.

He greeted Kade and I with a shoulder bump each.

“How’d it go?” Kade sat down and looked around.

“Went fine. Rearranged some faces and escorted them straight out of town,” I said.

“Where’s the drink you promised?” Kade said to Zig.

“I’ll go. Fill him in,” I said to Kade. My adrenaline was still up from kicking the shit out of those two asshats.

I felt restless. I knew we’d done our jobs, but I also felt something more was in the air.

The booths were private here, they had high backs. It made for a good place to have a meeting you didn’t want other people to see. And Woodrow didn’t dilute the booze, so we made it our off-site meeting place. If we didn’t head to the clubhouse, we came here.

A lot of things were going through my mind, mainly, how many other MCs were we going to have to run off? I was thinking about that and maybe that’s why I didn’t see her when we came in.

But I saw her now, on my way to the bar, because I nearly knocked her to the ground.

We collided. I was quicker than a big man should be, I suppose, and I caught her by the shoulders.

“Whoa, sorry miss. You okay there?” I said. I was more interested in getting drinks for my crew than getting her answer. But I didn’t mean to knock a woman down. I may have done a job on that fucker, Taro, but I’d never hurt a woman. Never would. And I’d practically flattened this one. Shit. What was a woman like this even doing in this dive?

“I’m fine, it’s me. Totally a klutz. I’m the one who’s sorry.” Her voice grabbed my attention and shifted it away from my guys waiting for their shots.

She wore her dark hair in a ponytail. She was taller than most; she had to be, because she came to my chin. Most women stared straight at my chest.

She had on a yellow dress. I noticed the yellow. I liked the yellow. She had heels on. And she didn’t have any makeup on that I could tell. Yet she was prettier than anyone I’d ever seen. Her eyes were the same color as the whiskey in the bottles behind the bar.

I kept my hands on her shoulders and took a good long look to be sure she was balanced and steady on her feet. I had nearly knocked her over.

“I, uh oh.” She’d dropped her bag on the floor. I bent down to get it.

“Here you go.” I handed it to her and she looked away from me.

“Thank you.”

“You probably shouldn’t be in this place. It’s not really for nice girls,” I told her.

“Well, Woodrow and I are friends, and I needed tea. But thank you for the advice. I’m Jenny Guffy.”

“Jenny, I’ll walk you out.” I gave a hard look to Woodrow Trudeau, the owner, and bartender. He knew she shouldn’t be here either. This place was shit and a remnant of Port Azrael’s worst days. Woodrow shrugged at me and went back to his work behind the bar.

I focused back on Jenny. For some reason I couldn’t take my hand off her. I wanted her out of this shit hole and safely to wherever the fuck she was headed. I also didn’t want to stop touching her.