Sinner's Creed (Sinner's Creed #1)(56)

“What happened today won’t happen again. We won’t have any problems. If we do, we’ll go to him first. Sinner’s don’t need the heat right now.” Shady agrees and we take a seat on the steps, letting the noise from inside replace our conversation. Until Shady talks.

“So, you gave Rookie a signature. Kid must be doing something right.” I don’t answer him; I just stare out into the lot at the bikes. “You never gave me a signature. What the f*ck’s up with that?” He is only joking, but I can hear the hurt in his voice. I don’t know why, probably because of this whole love revelation that I’ve had, but I feel like I owe him an explanation.

“I didn’t have as much pull then as I do now. I’d only been a Nomad for a couple of years when you came along.” I look at him when I say this. The nod of his head tells me he understands, but the question in his eyes tells me he wants a conversation and he used that line as an opening. I should have known. He got his name because of his ability to do shady shit to get what he wanted. Which is what he is doing to me.

“We’re brothers, Dirk. But it goes beyond the patch. You know I’m here if you ever need anything.” I almost want to laugh at the sincerity in his voice. What I manage is a smile. I turn my bottle up, take a pull from my cigarette, and thump the butt in the gravel. When I look at him, he is looking at the glow of the red cherry from my cigarette. I know what he’s thinking. A war almost broke out over something as simple as a cigarette, and here I was throwing one down. It made my smile widen. I put my hand on his shoulder and give it a squeeze. When he looks at me, I’m smiling and he looks like he wants to punch me.

“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 f*cking 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 f*cking 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 f*ck 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.