Sinner's Creed (Sinner's Creed #1)(47)

“The only reason I let you do it was because I knew that was the only way you could get closure—move on from the past and start a future. I know you hate him for the things he did to ya. Hell, I hate him for the shit he did to ya. I hate I couldn’t do more to stop him. But you can’t blame the man for the rest of your life. We got one shot, Dirk. One f*cking shot in this life. Make it count. Don’t be like me and die an old man all alone ’cause ya think Black beatin’ on ya f*cked you up too much to be loved. Let that woman love you. And if you smart, you’ll love her back.”

Roach’s eyes are pleading. They are begging me to take his advice. I don’t know if I will. I don’t know if I won’t. In this moment, all I know is that if I choose not to, looking at Roach is like looking in the mirror at the man I’m destined to become.





12


I’M SITTING OUT back, and my conversation with Roach is back to what it’s always been: business. We’re discussing the chapters, the problems with other clubs, and finances, when a patch holder comes barreling out the door. When he doesn’t look the least bit sorry or concerned about busting up our meeting, I know something is wrong.

“Dirk, you got a call.” I’m on my feet, knowing that whoever is calling doesn’t have my cell. Which means that it has to be someone that I know isn’t connected to the club. I’m hoping like hell it’s some bitch wondering if I’m in town, but my gut tells me it’s Saylor. That she needs me and got the number for the bar where she hopes I’m at.

Maybe she wants to know a paint color. Maybe she’s having issues with my card. Maybe the truck broke down. I’m playing every scenario imaginable in my head, but in the few seconds it takes for me to get to the phone, I know it’s nothing like that. If she’s calling here, it’s important. I snatch the phone off the counter and bark into it.

“Yeah?” I say, waiting for it to be any voice other than hers.

“Um, Dirk?” It’s a man. A young one. Maybe even a teenager.

“Who the f*ck is this?” I ask, not confirming who I am.

“Yeah, um, my name is Nate, I work over at Greer’s Grocery, and this lady told me to call and see if I could get you on the phone.” He pauses and I want to kill.

“What lady?” I growl, wishing he would just tell me what the f*ck is going on.

“Sir, I’m not sure. She just fainted and . . .” I drop the phone and run to my bike, passing a nervous Shady on the way. I throw my helmet to the ground, knowing the second it takes for me to put it on is too long.

Fainted? Is she hurt? Is she okay? She had to be conscious to tell them to call me, but how bad was it? I pull the throttle back on my bike, going as fast as possible without killing myself on the curvy road that leads to town. It doesn’t take me long to get there, and my heart sinks when I see an ambulance parked outside the front door.

I push through the crowd of people roughly, my feet taking me to the group huddled in a circle by the frozen food aisle. I push a medic to the side and look down to see Saylor taking deep breaths through her white lips. I drop to my knees beside her and take her hand in mine. Her other hand is on her forehead, holding an ice pack to it.

“What happened?” I ask. When she hears my voice, her neck cranes to see me.

“I fell,” she says noncommittally. I’m calling bullshit, not that I have to. The nervous voice that called me tells all.

“No sir, she passed out. I watched her.” I look up at him and his cheeks turn red with embarrassment. I’m sure he was watching her. I never thought I would be grateful for someone ogling my woman.

“I just got a little dizzy. It’s the weather.” Saylor is grasping at straws to try to hide the obvious reason she is laying here on the floor. And I don’t know why. I suddenly get the feeling she is hiding something from me, but before I can ask what it is, the horny bag boy tells his side of the story.

“She was fine one second, then I saw her swaying. The next, she went down like the Titanic. Bam! Her head hit the handle on the freezer door, and it hit pretty hard when she landed too.” His theatrics piss me off. I don’t like him trying to make a huge spectacle of Saylor.

“Sir, she needs to go to the hospital and get a CAT scan, but she is refusing. I’ve been trying to convince her, but she won’t even let us put her in the ambulance.” The medic’s concerned face worries me and I look down at Saylor, hoping I can talk her into going. Or I can just force her to go. Either is fine with me.

She is shaking her head, and tears are brimming in her eyes. “Dirk, I don’t want to go to the hospital.” The determination in her voice makes me feel like shit for even trying to talk her into it.

“You need to go get checked out,” I try, and my shitty attempt falls on deaf ears.

“I’m asking you, Dirk. I’m begging you. Please, don’t let them take me. I’m fine.” By the look on her face and the desperation in her voice, I know this is a battle I need to let her win. But I have to try.

“Please, baby. Something could be wrong.” I’ve pulled out all stops. I even try to make my eyes do that puppy-dog shit, but it doesn’t faze her. It only pisses her off.

“Dammit, Dirk. I said no. Have I ever lied to you? No, so take me home. I’m not going to the hospital. I’m not out of my head. I know who I am, I know where I am, and no one here is authorized to make decisions on my behalf.” She turns to look at the medic, and I can’t help feeling a little sorry for him.